What do you think?
Rate this book
The Contested Murder of Latasha Harlins: Justice, Gender, and the Origins of the LA Riots
Helicopters thwopped low over the city, filming blocks of burning cars and buildings, mobs breaking into storefronts, and the vicious beating of truck driver Reginald Denny. For a week in April 1992, Los Angeles transformed into a cityscape of rage, purportedly due to the exoneration of four policemen who had beaten Rodney King. It should be no surprise that such intense anger erupted from something deeper than a single incident. In The Contested Murder of Latasha Harlins, Brenda Stevenson tells the dramatic story of an earlier trial, a turning point on the road to the 1992 riot. On March 16, 1991, fifteen-year-old Latasha Harlins, an African American who lived locally, entered the Empire Liquor Market at 9172 South Figueroa Street in South Central Los Angeles. Behind the counter was a Korean woman named Soon Ja Du. Latasha walked to the refrigerator cases in the back, took a bottle of orange juice, put it in her backpack, and approached the cash register with two dollar bills in her hand-the price of the juice. Moments later she was face-down on the floor with a bullet hole in the back of her head, shot dead by Du. Joyce Karlin, a Jewish Superior Court judge appointed by Republican Governor Pete Wilson, presided over the resulting manslaughter trial. A jury convicted Du, but Karlin sentenced her only to probation, community service, and a $500 fine. The author meticulously reconstructs these events and their aftermath, showing how they set the stage for the explosion in 1992. An accomplished historian at UCLA, Stevenson explores the lives of each of these three women -- Harlins, Du, and Karlin -- and their very different worlds in rich detail. Through the three women, she not only reveals the human reality and social repercussions of this triangular collision, she also provides a deep history of immigration, ethnicity, and gender in modern America. Massively researched, deftly written, The Contested Murder of Latasha Harlins will reshape our understanding of race, ethnicity, gender, and -- above all -- justice in modern America.
444 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2013
38 people are currently reading
652 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 16 of 16 reviews
March 24, 2018
Brenda E. Stevenson’s The Contested Murder of Latasha Harlins: Justice, Gender, and the Origins of the L.A. Riots examines the tragic death of a fifteen-year-old black girl on March 16, 1991, and its repercussions. Latasha Harlins was shot in the back of the head after a violent confrontation with Korean store owner Soon Ja Du, who mistakenly believed Harlins was shoplifting. Harlins’s death and the perceived miscarriage of justice that followed, in which Judge Joyce Karlin sentenced Du with no jail time even after she was found guilty of voluntary manslaughter, became one of the embers which ignited the 1992 Los Angeles riots, one of the deadliest and costliest in American history. While Rodney King’s videotaped beating, and the subsequent acquittal of the offending officers, is often remembered as being the prime catalyst to the violence, Stevenson contends that while King’s beating was partly to blame, Latasha Harlins was as significant, if not more so, than King, especially considering that the majority of targets of the violence and vandalism were Korean-owned stores. Many at the time pointed to Karlin’s lenient sentencing as exacerbating the overflow of already boiling racial tensions. Stevenson is not the first to look at Harlins’s murder in the context of the L.A. riots, however, she does so in turns historical, biographical, and sociological, especially in terms of the lives and decisions of the three principal female characters: Latasha, Du, and Karlin. In this way Stevenson advances existing scholarship, drawing upon a wide range of sources to follow the threads of these three women’s lives and how they tangled in the Gordian knot of racial tension and explosive social unrest. For Stevenson, “an analysis of the People v. Du… has great significance because it sheds unique light on the complicated places of women, historically and currently, in American society. It serves remarkably well as a case study that exposes the complexity of the female in the United States as part of distinct groups, but also in relationship to one another.” The author’s intention is to “speak to the individualized experiences of the three primary females… while placing their lives and experiences in the broader, historically driven discourse on race, gender, and other socially salient characteristics.” Lastly, Stevenson suggests that if justice had truly been served in the case, the riots might have been avoided.
Stevenson begins her study with an examination of Latasha, of her family history and the circumstances which led her to Los Angeles, while giving context within the broader experience of black southern migrants and the challenges and discrimination Latasha’s family would have had to endure. She attempts to give a feeling as to what it might have been like to be Latasha through the vicarious experiences of other black teens of the same era. At times, Stevenson’s objectivity is pushed aside, adding an air of activism to her account of “‘Tasha’s” tragedy, with lines such as, “The last day of what was left of Latasha’s innocence, of her tattered childhood,” or stating that information was received as “her grandmother tearfully recalled.” Such sympathetic language is not to be found in the next chapter, in which Stevenson examines the life and ethnic history of Soon Ja Du, stressing the challenges that Du faced as a Korean woman living a life status that was below what she had in her homeland. She also delves into how Koreans generally viewed blacks negatively (including a discussion of the black-faced Bubble Sisters) and how Koreans have been viewed by others in the U.S. in turns both negative and positive. Du’s views of black people, it is reasoned, led her to believe the worst about Latasha’s intentions, believing she was stealing an orange juice when the teen had the money in her hand to pay for it. Stevenson next presents the immediate aftermath of Latasha’s murder, and particularly of black activists such as Danny Bakewell (who the author describes fawningly), and their tensions with the Korean business community, as both sides attempted to seek justice while trying to not too greatly inflame racial tensions.
Stevenson then looks at the trial of Soon Ja Du, of the arguments of the defense and prosecution, and of the testimonies of those brought before the court. In particular, Stevenson emphasizes the inconsistencies and seemingly intentional deceptions made on the part of the Du family. The section ends with Du’s guilty verdict. The author then pauses to look at the life and ethnic history of Judge Joyce Karlin, whose infamous sentencing was to spark outrage among the black populace. Stevenson presents Karlin’s privileged life alongside accounts of Jewish females through American history. While Jews and blacks were at times closely allied in American history, Stevenson shows that in the latter half of the twentieth century, as Jews became more acceptingly “white,” they found more in common with so-called “model immigrants” such as the Korean business owners, and the wealthy Karlins was no exception. The author even supposes that the “similarities between Jews and Koreans, as immigrants and as immigrant entrepreneurs, undoubtedly was not lost on Judge Karlin when she came to encounter Soon Ja Du in her courtroom.”
When Stevenson returns to the case, focusing upon Karlin’s permissive sentencing of Du, she dissects the Judge’s words and sees racial bias within her decisions, ones which assumed an aggressive criminality in Latasha and an upstanding vulnerability in the middle-aged, Korean shopkeeper. Though “Judge Karlin never spoke directly of Soon Ja Du’s race or ethnicity, culture, class, age, or gender as considerations in her sentencing… a close reading of her comments at the time of the sentencing, along with an interview the judge gave after the case was terminated, suggests that she was influenced by these factors in determining Du’s basic character and potential criminality.” To Karlin, despite the evidence that Latasha was law-abiding, defending herself, and walking away when shot in the back of the head, the teenager, by virtue of her “youthful age and physicality… was more criminal than victim.” Ultimately, with repeated protests and impassioned appearances, “the Harlins family won the image war on the street, but Soon Ja Du’s defense team won it in the courtroom.” The final chapter places the case within the context of the Rodney King beating and the L.A. riots, and presents the violence and its causes as consistent with previous race riots throughout American history, beginning with the Civil War. Stevenson emphasizes, especially, how much the feeling of injustice for Latasha Harlins played a role in people’s minds during those frightening, harrowing days.
To create The Contested Murder of Latasha Harlins, Stevenson draws upon a vast array of sources, notably Itabari Njeri’s Last Plantation: Color, Conflict, and Identity: Reflections of a New World Black. Most significantly, however, Stevenson turns again and again to online sources. Her own list is extensive, and includes “electronic archives, media sites, and online search engines. Many newspapers, magazines, obituaries, criminal records, court cases… census records, population statistics, historic photographs, hate crime statistics,” and more. That she uses online sources for photographs may account for the poor image quality of some, including a grainy photo of Latasha taken from Facebook - a quick Google search turns up better quality images. Likewise, Stevenson includes a macabre lynching photo entitled “The Barefoot Corpse of Laura Nelson,” however, the image is again so grainy that the body’s titular bare feet are indistinct. One wonders if better quality images would not have been as readily available for the author’s use. Some online sources are also admittedly curious, such as when she cites song lyrics from websites like AskLyrics.com (which appears to no longer exist according to my own Google search) or other sources, sites which are hardly authorities or even dependable. In this case, it would perhaps be better to cite the album directly for lyrics rather than a suspect website. Online sources are no doubt becoming a more crucial resource for historical research, however, it’s still clearly a tricky jungle through which to navigate.
Stevenson’s book is often compelling in its approach and subject matter and convincing in its analysis, however, it is not without its frustrations. In addition to some of the turns of language mentioned above, there are a number of errors to be found within the text, enough to make the reader feel as much like a fact-checker as a recipient of scholarship. I offer a few examples as illustration. Firstly, the book states that Judge Joyce Karlin was born in Los Angeles, yet a Los Angeles Times article from 1991, written after the controversial sentencing, says that she was born in Caracas, Venezuela. More vexing is when Stevenson incorrectly claims a 1879 Wasp political cartoon, “Uncle Sam’s Troublesome Bedfellows,” depicts “the Chinese, Native Americans, Russian immigrants (who primarily were Jewish), and blacks,” not only leaving out the Irish Catholic in the bed, but seemingly mistaking a Mormon (Brigham Young with a polygamy treatise in hand) with a Russian immigrant. Perhaps a more innocent mistake is when she incorrectly states that “President George W. Bush spoke out boldly” when it was actually his father, President George H. W. Bush. These errors and more are not enough to ruin the central argument or the overall effectiveness of the book’s structure, but they do at times diminish the reading pleasure.
Stevenson begins her study with an examination of Latasha, of her family history and the circumstances which led her to Los Angeles, while giving context within the broader experience of black southern migrants and the challenges and discrimination Latasha’s family would have had to endure. She attempts to give a feeling as to what it might have been like to be Latasha through the vicarious experiences of other black teens of the same era. At times, Stevenson’s objectivity is pushed aside, adding an air of activism to her account of “‘Tasha’s” tragedy, with lines such as, “The last day of what was left of Latasha’s innocence, of her tattered childhood,” or stating that information was received as “her grandmother tearfully recalled.” Such sympathetic language is not to be found in the next chapter, in which Stevenson examines the life and ethnic history of Soon Ja Du, stressing the challenges that Du faced as a Korean woman living a life status that was below what she had in her homeland. She also delves into how Koreans generally viewed blacks negatively (including a discussion of the black-faced Bubble Sisters) and how Koreans have been viewed by others in the U.S. in turns both negative and positive. Du’s views of black people, it is reasoned, led her to believe the worst about Latasha’s intentions, believing she was stealing an orange juice when the teen had the money in her hand to pay for it. Stevenson next presents the immediate aftermath of Latasha’s murder, and particularly of black activists such as Danny Bakewell (who the author describes fawningly), and their tensions with the Korean business community, as both sides attempted to seek justice while trying to not too greatly inflame racial tensions.
Stevenson then looks at the trial of Soon Ja Du, of the arguments of the defense and prosecution, and of the testimonies of those brought before the court. In particular, Stevenson emphasizes the inconsistencies and seemingly intentional deceptions made on the part of the Du family. The section ends with Du’s guilty verdict. The author then pauses to look at the life and ethnic history of Judge Joyce Karlin, whose infamous sentencing was to spark outrage among the black populace. Stevenson presents Karlin’s privileged life alongside accounts of Jewish females through American history. While Jews and blacks were at times closely allied in American history, Stevenson shows that in the latter half of the twentieth century, as Jews became more acceptingly “white,” they found more in common with so-called “model immigrants” such as the Korean business owners, and the wealthy Karlins was no exception. The author even supposes that the “similarities between Jews and Koreans, as immigrants and as immigrant entrepreneurs, undoubtedly was not lost on Judge Karlin when she came to encounter Soon Ja Du in her courtroom.”
When Stevenson returns to the case, focusing upon Karlin’s permissive sentencing of Du, she dissects the Judge’s words and sees racial bias within her decisions, ones which assumed an aggressive criminality in Latasha and an upstanding vulnerability in the middle-aged, Korean shopkeeper. Though “Judge Karlin never spoke directly of Soon Ja Du’s race or ethnicity, culture, class, age, or gender as considerations in her sentencing… a close reading of her comments at the time of the sentencing, along with an interview the judge gave after the case was terminated, suggests that she was influenced by these factors in determining Du’s basic character and potential criminality.” To Karlin, despite the evidence that Latasha was law-abiding, defending herself, and walking away when shot in the back of the head, the teenager, by virtue of her “youthful age and physicality… was more criminal than victim.” Ultimately, with repeated protests and impassioned appearances, “the Harlins family won the image war on the street, but Soon Ja Du’s defense team won it in the courtroom.” The final chapter places the case within the context of the Rodney King beating and the L.A. riots, and presents the violence and its causes as consistent with previous race riots throughout American history, beginning with the Civil War. Stevenson emphasizes, especially, how much the feeling of injustice for Latasha Harlins played a role in people’s minds during those frightening, harrowing days.
To create The Contested Murder of Latasha Harlins, Stevenson draws upon a vast array of sources, notably Itabari Njeri’s Last Plantation: Color, Conflict, and Identity: Reflections of a New World Black. Most significantly, however, Stevenson turns again and again to online sources. Her own list is extensive, and includes “electronic archives, media sites, and online search engines. Many newspapers, magazines, obituaries, criminal records, court cases… census records, population statistics, historic photographs, hate crime statistics,” and more. That she uses online sources for photographs may account for the poor image quality of some, including a grainy photo of Latasha taken from Facebook - a quick Google search turns up better quality images. Likewise, Stevenson includes a macabre lynching photo entitled “The Barefoot Corpse of Laura Nelson,” however, the image is again so grainy that the body’s titular bare feet are indistinct. One wonders if better quality images would not have been as readily available for the author’s use. Some online sources are also admittedly curious, such as when she cites song lyrics from websites like AskLyrics.com (which appears to no longer exist according to my own Google search) or other sources, sites which are hardly authorities or even dependable. In this case, it would perhaps be better to cite the album directly for lyrics rather than a suspect website. Online sources are no doubt becoming a more crucial resource for historical research, however, it’s still clearly a tricky jungle through which to navigate.
Stevenson’s book is often compelling in its approach and subject matter and convincing in its analysis, however, it is not without its frustrations. In addition to some of the turns of language mentioned above, there are a number of errors to be found within the text, enough to make the reader feel as much like a fact-checker as a recipient of scholarship. I offer a few examples as illustration. Firstly, the book states that Judge Joyce Karlin was born in Los Angeles, yet a Los Angeles Times article from 1991, written after the controversial sentencing, says that she was born in Caracas, Venezuela. More vexing is when Stevenson incorrectly claims a 1879 Wasp political cartoon, “Uncle Sam’s Troublesome Bedfellows,” depicts “the Chinese, Native Americans, Russian immigrants (who primarily were Jewish), and blacks,” not only leaving out the Irish Catholic in the bed, but seemingly mistaking a Mormon (Brigham Young with a polygamy treatise in hand) with a Russian immigrant. Perhaps a more innocent mistake is when she incorrectly states that “President George W. Bush spoke out boldly” when it was actually his father, President George H. W. Bush. These errors and more are not enough to ruin the central argument or the overall effectiveness of the book’s structure, but they do at times diminish the reading pleasure.
August 23, 2013
Author Stevenson had no way of knowing how tragically timely her book would be -- she spent 10 years researching the lives of the three women whose lives fatally intersected in Compton 20 years ago: Latasha Harlins, a 15-year-old African American girl who stopped in her corner store for orange juice, Soon Ja Du, the Korean immigrant proprietor who thought she was shoplifted and shot and killed her, and Judge Joyce Karlin who -- presiding over her first criminal trial -- let the killer go free. The book just came out, just weeks after this tragic story was repeated in Florida. Stevenson does an amazing job of tracing not only the life histories of the three principals, but of their communities, and the paths that took them from Jim Crow Alabama, war-torn Seoul, and Tsarist Russia, to South Central LA.
April 8, 2025
4.5 stars. this was hard to follow at times due to its extensive historical contents of black migration and korean immigration but overall incredibly informative and heartbreaking.
i remember learning about latasha after trayvon martin’s murder. i remember being in middle school looking up all i could on latasha, rodney king, and the LA uprising of 1992, hoping the country learned its lesson. and then the 2016 uprising following sandra bland and philando castile’s murders happened. and then the 2020 uprising following george floyd and breona taylor’s murders. i’m now waiting for when the pot will boil over this time.
this was an incredibly infuriating read. i knew latasha was murdered for an alleged shoplifting but i never knew it was over a $1.79 bottle of juice. a 15 year old black girl was seen as a gang member for how she dressed, villainized for punching soon ja du in self defense, shot in the back of her head as she was walking away without the bottle of juice. latasha would be mother’s age if soon ja du hadn’t ripped her life away over A BOTTLE OF JUICE. and for her to receive no jail time, a $500 fine, and cover her funeral expenses? it’s a slap in the face. it shows that a black life is worth so little that the “justice system” doesn’t deem punishment other than monetary necessary.
stevenson’s angle with this book was to analyze the racial, class, and economic differences between latasha, soon ja du, and presiding judge karlin. latasha’s family history is riddled with gun violence, her mother having died by a gun along with two uncles. soon ja du, a korean immigrant, felt it was her matronly duty to protect her husband’s business and defend it in any way possible from vandalism. joyce karlin, a russian jew, had to prove herself worthy of her new found position as superior court judge. these racial and class differences are what determined soon ja du’s lack of sentencing. it’s worth noting judge karlin felt that no punishment would “bring her back”. does that mean no justice was needed? if latasha had lived, she would have been charged with assault for defending herself against du.
it’s also worth noting latasha and her family received minimal support from local politicians and the korean community. soon ja du was seen as a scapegoat due to rodney king’s assailants being acquitted of their charges. yet, when a 9 year old korean girl was shot by a black man in a robbery, there was support from politicians, the korean AND black communities to call for an end to this violence. why is one life of a child valued over the other because of her race?
latasha harlins received no justice and her family got no peace. her name comes up every time a black child is murdered in cold blood. what makes her murder stand out is she wasn’t killed by the state or the police force. she should have faced justice but was subsequently failed by the courts. the prosecutor failed to humanize her, the defense framed her as a violent thug, and the judge determined her life wasn’t worth more than a $500 fine. my heart bleeds for her and her family.
i remember learning about latasha after trayvon martin’s murder. i remember being in middle school looking up all i could on latasha, rodney king, and the LA uprising of 1992, hoping the country learned its lesson. and then the 2016 uprising following sandra bland and philando castile’s murders happened. and then the 2020 uprising following george floyd and breona taylor’s murders. i’m now waiting for when the pot will boil over this time.
this was an incredibly infuriating read. i knew latasha was murdered for an alleged shoplifting but i never knew it was over a $1.79 bottle of juice. a 15 year old black girl was seen as a gang member for how she dressed, villainized for punching soon ja du in self defense, shot in the back of her head as she was walking away without the bottle of juice. latasha would be mother’s age if soon ja du hadn’t ripped her life away over A BOTTLE OF JUICE. and for her to receive no jail time, a $500 fine, and cover her funeral expenses? it’s a slap in the face. it shows that a black life is worth so little that the “justice system” doesn’t deem punishment other than monetary necessary.
stevenson’s angle with this book was to analyze the racial, class, and economic differences between latasha, soon ja du, and presiding judge karlin. latasha’s family history is riddled with gun violence, her mother having died by a gun along with two uncles. soon ja du, a korean immigrant, felt it was her matronly duty to protect her husband’s business and defend it in any way possible from vandalism. joyce karlin, a russian jew, had to prove herself worthy of her new found position as superior court judge. these racial and class differences are what determined soon ja du’s lack of sentencing. it’s worth noting judge karlin felt that no punishment would “bring her back”. does that mean no justice was needed? if latasha had lived, she would have been charged with assault for defending herself against du.
it’s also worth noting latasha and her family received minimal support from local politicians and the korean community. soon ja du was seen as a scapegoat due to rodney king’s assailants being acquitted of their charges. yet, when a 9 year old korean girl was shot by a black man in a robbery, there was support from politicians, the korean AND black communities to call for an end to this violence. why is one life of a child valued over the other because of her race?
latasha harlins received no justice and her family got no peace. her name comes up every time a black child is murdered in cold blood. what makes her murder stand out is she wasn’t killed by the state or the police force. she should have faced justice but was subsequently failed by the courts. the prosecutor failed to humanize her, the defense framed her as a violent thug, and the judge determined her life wasn’t worth more than a $500 fine. my heart bleeds for her and her family.
November 4, 2019
Sad case, awful verdict
Overall, a very good assessment of the life and death of Latasha Harkins.
All three main women in this case were allowed to be seen as they were: very flawed human beings, that judged and were judged by the society at large.
The main thing that I got from this case is that everyone lost, but the young Miss Harlins lost the most important thing, which was her life.
Overall, a very good assessment of the life and death of Latasha Harkins.
All three main women in this case were allowed to be seen as they were: very flawed human beings, that judged and were judged by the society at large.
The main thing that I got from this case is that everyone lost, but the young Miss Harlins lost the most important thing, which was her life.
March 21, 2024
Definitely more of an academic read, but still accessible. Recommend it for anyone that’s a 90s baby and actually doesn’t know much about what happened.
June 24, 2024
AN EXCELLENT ACCOUNT OF THIS TRAGIC INCIDENT AND ITS AFTERMATH
Brenda Elaine Stevenson is Professor of History and African American Studies at UCLA. She wrote in the Preface to this 2013 book, “The shooting was devastating… It underscored… the vulnerability of the most defenseless in the nation’s socially constructed hierarchy---women and children of the racially, culturally, economically, and politically marginalized… [This book] recaptures the details of Soon Ja Du’s shooting of Latasha Harlins, her trial, Judge Karlin’s sentencing logic, and the responses of various factions of the public to it. [The case] has both historic and contemporary significance. It was, after all, one of two legal cases whose outcomes led to the Los Angeles riots/uprising of 1992, the most deadly and costly race riot in United States history.” (Pg. xvi-xvii)
She explains, “[This book] maintains that much about the outcome of the case can be understood when one examines closely the personal biographies and group histories of Latasha Harlins, Soon Ja Du, and Joyce Karlin. Their individual stories, and those of their ancestors, are windows into their personal socializations and perspectives that must have affected the ways in which they regarded and responded to one another. These histories illuminate the legal, social, economic, and cultural trajectories that eventually led Harlins, Du, and Karlin to encounter one another and laid the foundations for the terms of those encounters and their outcomes.” (Pg. xxii-xxiii) She adds, “[This book speaks] is to speak to the individualized experiences of the three primary females … while placing their lives and experiences in a broader, historically driven discourse on race, gender, and other socially salient characteristics. It is only then that the question of justice… can begin to be answered and understood in relationship to the Los Angeles riots of 1992.” (Pg. xxvii)
She recounts, “on that day… Store owner Soon Ja Du testified that her son Joseph had told her about people who wore clothes like Latasha’s; they were, according to him, gang members and dangerous.” (Pg. 3-4) A friend of Latasha Harlin’s recalled, “She wore the same kind of clothes every day---blue dickies, a white T-shirt and a black hoodie, always the black hoodie, and black LA Gear… Gang bangers wore clothes like that, but she wasn’t in a gang. She just hung out with us.” (Pg. 6) Stevenson says, “Just a few days before (her death), a group of girls had beaten Latasha because she had refused to join their gang. She was outnumbered but stood her ground. Latasha had learned how to take care of herself the hard way. She was not going to let Soon Ja Du get away with pushing her around.” (Pg. 57)
Stevenson notes, “Latasha passed from elementary to middle school three years after her mother died… With her mother deceased, and the only man she identified as a father gone, Latasha was forced into a world of adult concerns… Latasha was an adolescent challenged by a tragic family life in a new school environment that caused her to sometimes act out and to do poorly academically her first semester.” (Pg. 48-49) She continues, “One source of particular angst between Latasha and aunt Denise was the relationship that the teen purportedly was having with two adult men: Jerry foster, a counselor at the local recreational center; and a neighborhood man, known only as Ron. Aunt Denise knew only too well the shattering consequences of early sexual involvement between adult men and vulnerable teenage girls out to prove that they were ‘grown.’” (Pg. 51)
She points out, “Things never went smoothly for [the Dus] as shopkeepers in South Central. Shoplifting was a significant daily problem, as were other crimes, and there were three robberies within the first two years of operation. Mr. Du bought guns for protection… The neighborhood that the Dus worked in and that the Harlins family lived in was, by any standard, a very dangerous place.” (Pg. 69) She continues, “Perhaps most problematically, the Dus did not get along with the local customers. They did not have a high opinion of their clientele, particularly the local blacks. The dislike and disregard was mutual. The Dus eventually tried hiring some neighborhood help, undoubtedly hoping that this would help ease the tension between themselves and their customers…” (Pg. 69-70)
She comments, “On the streets of South Central in particular… conflict between blacks and Asians has mostly meant conflict between blacks and Koreans. Many shopkeepers, including the Dus, have spoken of the harsh treatment they received from black customers… anyone can understand Korean shopkeepers’ fear that blacks were targeting them as a group. The ‘BLACK OWNED’ signs that saved many businesses during the 1992 riots, while scores of Korean-owned shops burned to the ground… Many Korean shopkeepers have felt that this kind of treatment is, indeed, the result of racial hostility that blacks feel for them.” (Pg. 76-77)
Of the trial, she observes, “The Du family hit the proverbial jackpot when they chose their second attorney to represent Soon Ja. Charles Earl Lloyd was one of the most respected and successful lawyers in Los Angeles. It also did no hurt… to have a black attorney defend a Korean woman accused of killing a black teen. If blacks on the jury could relate to their black attorney, maybe Soon Ja had a chance of beating the first-degree murder charge she faced.” (Pg. 133-134)
She notes, “Soon Ja Du repeatedly stated that she believed that Latasha was dressed like a gang member when she came into her store that Saturday morning… [Du said], ‘I asked my son “how do gang members in America look like?” because he told me he was getting continually threatened. So I asked him to describe what they looked like because I have to be careful when they come in… And when [Latasha] hit me with that iron like fist, what I heard from my son and her description how she was dressed was similar, that’s what I thought.” (Pg. 155-156)
After the verdict, “When surveying the outcome of [the case], however, most people would have cause to believe that the US racial hierarchy, and its relationship to the workings of the criminal justice system, were more predictable over time than not. The outcry from blacks was loud and clear: a Korean woman killed a black girl, and a Jewish female judge let her get away with it.” (Pg. 227)
Of the judge’s verdict, “Judge Karlin brushed aside with one broad sweep that sector of public pressure that insisted she sentence Du [to] jail time. Instead, she assured the public that Soon Ja Du ‘will be punished for the rest of her life’ because she will have to live with the memory of the crime… ‘Mrs. Du will not be able to make up for the loss of Latasha Harlins.’ The judge then asserted that society did not ‘need’ Mrs. Du to be ‘incarcerated in order to be protected,’ because Soon Ja Du was not a ‘danger to society,’ she was not a ‘criminal.’ … Finally, Karlin surmised, Du’s ‘participation’ in the crime that led to her conviction only occurred because of ‘circumstances of great provocation, coercion and distress’ and because of the ‘hairpin’ triggered gun.” (Pg. 267) She continues, “Indeed, Judge Karlin stood by her sentence of Du. Karlin never publicly repealed her decision in spite of the outcry, violence, and devastation directly linked to it. To the contrary, she has repeatedly defended it.” (Pg. 275)
She summarizes, “When all was said and done, Koreatown looted and burned, the politicians had won or lost their election, the press had written or recited their stories, and most of the protestors had put away their signs and stopped marching, the Harlins family had not gotten the justice they sought. Soon Ja Du did not spend another moment in jail, and Joyce Karlin retained her seat as a Superior Court judge. Latasha’s sister and brother received a joint civil suit aware of $300,000---that was it.” (Pg. 310) But she also notes, “Although Karlin remained a Superior Court judge after sentencing Soon Ja Du, she spent the rest of her tenure on the bench in Juvenile Dependency Court---a clear indication that his star in the legal profession had been dimmed.” (Pg. 312)
This book will be “must reading” for anyone wanting to know more about this incident, and its background.
Brenda Elaine Stevenson is Professor of History and African American Studies at UCLA. She wrote in the Preface to this 2013 book, “The shooting was devastating… It underscored… the vulnerability of the most defenseless in the nation’s socially constructed hierarchy---women and children of the racially, culturally, economically, and politically marginalized… [This book] recaptures the details of Soon Ja Du’s shooting of Latasha Harlins, her trial, Judge Karlin’s sentencing logic, and the responses of various factions of the public to it. [The case] has both historic and contemporary significance. It was, after all, one of two legal cases whose outcomes led to the Los Angeles riots/uprising of 1992, the most deadly and costly race riot in United States history.” (Pg. xvi-xvii)
She explains, “[This book] maintains that much about the outcome of the case can be understood when one examines closely the personal biographies and group histories of Latasha Harlins, Soon Ja Du, and Joyce Karlin. Their individual stories, and those of their ancestors, are windows into their personal socializations and perspectives that must have affected the ways in which they regarded and responded to one another. These histories illuminate the legal, social, economic, and cultural trajectories that eventually led Harlins, Du, and Karlin to encounter one another and laid the foundations for the terms of those encounters and their outcomes.” (Pg. xxii-xxiii) She adds, “[This book speaks] is to speak to the individualized experiences of the three primary females … while placing their lives and experiences in a broader, historically driven discourse on race, gender, and other socially salient characteristics. It is only then that the question of justice… can begin to be answered and understood in relationship to the Los Angeles riots of 1992.” (Pg. xxvii)
She recounts, “on that day… Store owner Soon Ja Du testified that her son Joseph had told her about people who wore clothes like Latasha’s; they were, according to him, gang members and dangerous.” (Pg. 3-4) A friend of Latasha Harlin’s recalled, “She wore the same kind of clothes every day---blue dickies, a white T-shirt and a black hoodie, always the black hoodie, and black LA Gear… Gang bangers wore clothes like that, but she wasn’t in a gang. She just hung out with us.” (Pg. 6) Stevenson says, “Just a few days before (her death), a group of girls had beaten Latasha because she had refused to join their gang. She was outnumbered but stood her ground. Latasha had learned how to take care of herself the hard way. She was not going to let Soon Ja Du get away with pushing her around.” (Pg. 57)
Stevenson notes, “Latasha passed from elementary to middle school three years after her mother died… With her mother deceased, and the only man she identified as a father gone, Latasha was forced into a world of adult concerns… Latasha was an adolescent challenged by a tragic family life in a new school environment that caused her to sometimes act out and to do poorly academically her first semester.” (Pg. 48-49) She continues, “One source of particular angst between Latasha and aunt Denise was the relationship that the teen purportedly was having with two adult men: Jerry foster, a counselor at the local recreational center; and a neighborhood man, known only as Ron. Aunt Denise knew only too well the shattering consequences of early sexual involvement between adult men and vulnerable teenage girls out to prove that they were ‘grown.’” (Pg. 51)
She points out, “Things never went smoothly for [the Dus] as shopkeepers in South Central. Shoplifting was a significant daily problem, as were other crimes, and there were three robberies within the first two years of operation. Mr. Du bought guns for protection… The neighborhood that the Dus worked in and that the Harlins family lived in was, by any standard, a very dangerous place.” (Pg. 69) She continues, “Perhaps most problematically, the Dus did not get along with the local customers. They did not have a high opinion of their clientele, particularly the local blacks. The dislike and disregard was mutual. The Dus eventually tried hiring some neighborhood help, undoubtedly hoping that this would help ease the tension between themselves and their customers…” (Pg. 69-70)
She comments, “On the streets of South Central in particular… conflict between blacks and Asians has mostly meant conflict between blacks and Koreans. Many shopkeepers, including the Dus, have spoken of the harsh treatment they received from black customers… anyone can understand Korean shopkeepers’ fear that blacks were targeting them as a group. The ‘BLACK OWNED’ signs that saved many businesses during the 1992 riots, while scores of Korean-owned shops burned to the ground… Many Korean shopkeepers have felt that this kind of treatment is, indeed, the result of racial hostility that blacks feel for them.” (Pg. 76-77)
Of the trial, she observes, “The Du family hit the proverbial jackpot when they chose their second attorney to represent Soon Ja. Charles Earl Lloyd was one of the most respected and successful lawyers in Los Angeles. It also did no hurt… to have a black attorney defend a Korean woman accused of killing a black teen. If blacks on the jury could relate to their black attorney, maybe Soon Ja had a chance of beating the first-degree murder charge she faced.” (Pg. 133-134)
She notes, “Soon Ja Du repeatedly stated that she believed that Latasha was dressed like a gang member when she came into her store that Saturday morning… [Du said], ‘I asked my son “how do gang members in America look like?” because he told me he was getting continually threatened. So I asked him to describe what they looked like because I have to be careful when they come in… And when [Latasha] hit me with that iron like fist, what I heard from my son and her description how she was dressed was similar, that’s what I thought.” (Pg. 155-156)
After the verdict, “When surveying the outcome of [the case], however, most people would have cause to believe that the US racial hierarchy, and its relationship to the workings of the criminal justice system, were more predictable over time than not. The outcry from blacks was loud and clear: a Korean woman killed a black girl, and a Jewish female judge let her get away with it.” (Pg. 227)
Of the judge’s verdict, “Judge Karlin brushed aside with one broad sweep that sector of public pressure that insisted she sentence Du [to] jail time. Instead, she assured the public that Soon Ja Du ‘will be punished for the rest of her life’ because she will have to live with the memory of the crime… ‘Mrs. Du will not be able to make up for the loss of Latasha Harlins.’ The judge then asserted that society did not ‘need’ Mrs. Du to be ‘incarcerated in order to be protected,’ because Soon Ja Du was not a ‘danger to society,’ she was not a ‘criminal.’ … Finally, Karlin surmised, Du’s ‘participation’ in the crime that led to her conviction only occurred because of ‘circumstances of great provocation, coercion and distress’ and because of the ‘hairpin’ triggered gun.” (Pg. 267) She continues, “Indeed, Judge Karlin stood by her sentence of Du. Karlin never publicly repealed her decision in spite of the outcry, violence, and devastation directly linked to it. To the contrary, she has repeatedly defended it.” (Pg. 275)
She summarizes, “When all was said and done, Koreatown looted and burned, the politicians had won or lost their election, the press had written or recited their stories, and most of the protestors had put away their signs and stopped marching, the Harlins family had not gotten the justice they sought. Soon Ja Du did not spend another moment in jail, and Joyce Karlin retained her seat as a Superior Court judge. Latasha’s sister and brother received a joint civil suit aware of $300,000---that was it.” (Pg. 310) But she also notes, “Although Karlin remained a Superior Court judge after sentencing Soon Ja Du, she spent the rest of her tenure on the bench in Juvenile Dependency Court---a clear indication that his star in the legal profession had been dimmed.” (Pg. 312)
This book will be “must reading” for anyone wanting to know more about this incident, and its background.
March 1, 2017
Expect lots of facts and figures from this book written by a historian who embraces a sociological approach to her dissection of a failure of justice.
February 11, 2020
Earlier this year, I read Steph Cha’s Your House Will Pay and sought further insight into the Latasha Harlins murder, trial, and aftermath. Thus, I was pleasantly surprised to locate a historical study on the case in my local public library. UCLA professor of history Brenda Stevenson has written a book titled The Contested Murder of Latasha Harlins that examines the 1991 murder of Latasha Harlins and the intersections of race, gender, and class. Stevenson has an interesting lens of analysis as she intends to examine the racial and class backgrounds of the three major individuals—Latasha Harlins, the young black teen shot dead in the back of the head as she attempted to purchase bottle of orange juice; Soon Ja Du, the middle-class Korean store owner who shot Harlins; and Judge Joyce Karlins, an upper middle-class white woman who presided over the case and sentenced Du to only probation, community service, and a fine, despite a jury finding Du guilty of second-degree voluntary manslaughter. The angle into the study is unique; however, I’m not entirely certain that the providing the historical background of black, Korean, and Jewish groups in Los Angeles is the most effective, though the chapter shedding light on black migration to Los Angeles was thoroughly researched and effectively done.
The strength of the book lies in the coverage of the case itself, the sentencing phase, and the community response to the verdict and sentencing. The sentencing of Du was handed down in November 1991 and following the Rodney King verdict in late April 1992, Los Angeles erupted in a week-long conflagration. The Harlins’ murder is commonly perceived to be another catalyst in the Los Angeles uprisings. Stevenson’s book sheds important light on this untimely moment in Los Angeles history. This book is recommended for those interested in Los Angeles history, Black-Korean race relations, and black history.
The strength of the book lies in the coverage of the case itself, the sentencing phase, and the community response to the verdict and sentencing. The sentencing of Du was handed down in November 1991 and following the Rodney King verdict in late April 1992, Los Angeles erupted in a week-long conflagration. The Harlins’ murder is commonly perceived to be another catalyst in the Los Angeles uprisings. Stevenson’s book sheds important light on this untimely moment in Los Angeles history. This book is recommended for those interested in Los Angeles history, Black-Korean race relations, and black history.
May 7, 2021
Protecting the Harlins Family Name/Reputation from Brenda Stevenson,
This message is sent directly from Latasha Harlins Family. Brenda Stevenson, we are very disappointed with you for writing this deceitful book “The Contested Murder of Latasha Harlins” that is NOT TRUE about the Harlins Family. Ms. Stevenson, you have inaccurate and misleading information in this book that is disturbing and painful to even read ---How dare you. The Harlins Family will not allow you to tarnish our character or our reputation to make money off the Harlins Family’s name – unacceptable. This is defamation of character of the “Harlins Family”. You never had the decency to even speak or receive permission from the Harlins family which is very disturbing to us for you to even write a book about our family story. Ms. Stevenson, you have NO respect for the Harlins family. We are REQUIRING for you to permanently remove this book from selling immediately. We are REQUIRING for you to STOP publicizing/speaking about the Harlins Family and STOP using LATASHA HARLINS name for profit. Ms. Stevenson, please take action immediately or a lawsuit will be filed. Finally, the truth about Latasha Harlins will be revealed the right way – from the Harlins Family that knows her best and have many projects on the way that will share Latasha Harlins true story.
Respectfully,
The Harlins Family!
This message is sent directly from Latasha Harlins Family. Brenda Stevenson, we are very disappointed with you for writing this deceitful book “The Contested Murder of Latasha Harlins” that is NOT TRUE about the Harlins Family. Ms. Stevenson, you have inaccurate and misleading information in this book that is disturbing and painful to even read ---How dare you. The Harlins Family will not allow you to tarnish our character or our reputation to make money off the Harlins Family’s name – unacceptable. This is defamation of character of the “Harlins Family”. You never had the decency to even speak or receive permission from the Harlins family which is very disturbing to us for you to even write a book about our family story. Ms. Stevenson, you have NO respect for the Harlins family. We are REQUIRING for you to permanently remove this book from selling immediately. We are REQUIRING for you to STOP publicizing/speaking about the Harlins Family and STOP using LATASHA HARLINS name for profit. Ms. Stevenson, please take action immediately or a lawsuit will be filed. Finally, the truth about Latasha Harlins will be revealed the right way – from the Harlins Family that knows her best and have many projects on the way that will share Latasha Harlins true story.
Respectfully,
The Harlins Family!
July 13, 2022
I think in many ways the approach works well, with detailed looks at the family histories and social contexts of Latasha Harlins, her shooter, and the judge who barely slapped the shooter on the wrist. The downside of it is that you spend a lot of time with two people who -- while in some ways can be objects of sympathy -- the racism of their actions and decisions cannot be ignored. By them, sure... that's the beauty of institutional racism; you can always say that was not the reason, but then it is so clear.
It is a frustrating and painful book, but it is important.
There are five pages or so about Rodney King that were in their own way more revelatory. At the time, I had not heard anything about Latasha Harlins. While it was well known in Los Angeles, apparently that news did not make it up to Oregon. So, hearing more about Harlins later, I expected to learn more and did.
We did hear about Rodney King up here, and so I thought I had familiarity, and yet there was still so much that was unknown or assumed or misreported.
It's important to know.
It is a frustrating and painful book, but it is important.
There are five pages or so about Rodney King that were in their own way more revelatory. At the time, I had not heard anything about Latasha Harlins. While it was well known in Los Angeles, apparently that news did not make it up to Oregon. So, hearing more about Harlins later, I expected to learn more and did.
We did hear about Rodney King up here, and so I thought I had familiarity, and yet there was still so much that was unknown or assumed or misreported.
It's important to know.
November 14, 2023
One of the more in-depth true crime books I’ve read, this book examines the killing of Latasha Harlan’s with a widened scope. Latasha, a young Black teenager, was killed by a Korean shop owner. The author dives in to the racial tensions between those two groups. We also get a history lesson on the LA riots following the acquittal of most of the officers that participated in the brutal beating of Rodney King and how Latasha’s death was a huge catalyst for what happened. Although Latasha’s killer was found guilty, judge Joyce Karlin did not impose any prison time, which infuriated Latasha’s family and community. LA constituents attempted to have Karlin recalled twice after the sentencing, which I found fascinating and reminiscent of the Brock Turner sentencing.
February 26, 2018
not an easy read but do recommend.
also worth a watch: Let It Fall: Los Angeles 1982-1992 (2017 documentary)
good luck
also worth a watch: Let It Fall: Los Angeles 1982-1992 (2017 documentary)
good luck
July 17, 2019
What I really liked about this book is that is truly showed all sides. That being said, this book read more like a thesis paper. I did learn some things, so I gave it a solid 3.
December 16, 2021
Late to the game, but appreciate the in-depth analysis of the Latasha Harlins murder and the interesting perspective of the historian. Not an easy read, but important.
December 8, 2019
Coming into this, I didn’t know about the story of Latasha Harlins, and its connection to the LA Riots of 1992. I’m glad I do now, although this book wasn’t the best introduction. The book tells the story through the 3 women involved - the victim (a 15 year-old African-American girl from the neighborhood), the perpetrator (a Korean-American store owner) and the judge (a Jewish-American member of the upper-class). There are chapters on each of their backgrounds, going back to talk about the histories of their ethnic groups in the US. These chapters feel like long lists of facts and lack much narrative. The chapters on the actual incident, and the ensuing trial and consequent riots, are better, although they too often digress into ancillary threads. This is a possible Common Book, but is far too academic for that purpose, and for the general public I’m sure there are more accessible accounts of this incident and it’s fallout. I’m not a scholar in this field, so maybe this is the norm for books like this, but as an outsider it all felt very hodgepodge, where so much was brought in as to lose the message. It’s certainly still relevant, and there are things to be learned here, just the presentation wasn’t particularly compelling.
June 5, 2014
I couldn't get through this book. It was depressing at best and read more like a study/thesis paper. The main part of the story - what happened to Latasha Harlins was VERY interesting but once you have to go down in the weeds into her family history all the way back to slave days it got to be too much.
Displaying 1 - 16 of 16 reviews