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After Kansas civil asset forfeiture reform, let’s funnel that money into communities it came from

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After Kansas civil asset forfeiture reform, let’s funnel that money into communities it came from

May 02, 2024 | 4:33 am ET
By Mark McCormick
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After Kansas civil asset forfeiture reform, let’s funnel that money into communities it came from
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Rep. Ford Carr, D-Wichita, said caution was warranted around civil asset forfeiture reform: “They can still shake you down,” he said of the police. “It’s just a little more difficult now. There’s a lot more work to be done.” (Sherman Smith/Kansas Reflector)

David Gilkey once asked a pair of police officers a profound question: “What do you do with all the money you seize in drug busts?”

One officer said, “we put in back into law enforcement training.” The other officer nodded.

Gilkey, a Wichita youth advocate, then asked, “Why don’t you put that money back into the community?”

The officer who answered said, “That’s not a bad idea.” The other officer stayed quiet.

Those questions could prove timely. The Kansas Legislature unanimously passed a measure recently that fundamentally alters a common police practice known as civil asset forfeiture, which allows police to seize cars, cash, homes and more on mere suspicion.

The Kansas House and Senate voted 120-0 and 35-0 to pass Senate Bill 458, which exempts drug offenses related to possession or personal use from civil asset forfeiture. It also limits federal law enforcement taking part in local law enforcement forfeiture cases.

The resounding vote reflects at least a tacit belief among people in both parties that law enforcement has abused this power.

The Kansas Fraternal Order of Police did not respond to an email seeking comment about the new measure and whether Kansas law enforcement agencies have abused this practice.

The bill, which Gov. Laura Kelly just signed into law, requires judges to consider whether seizures were excessive, puts the burden of proof on prosecutors to show the seizure was proportional, and allows some property owners to recoup legal costs after successful challenges.

In 2017, the late Rep. Gail Finney pointed out how these seizures often took place without due process and without a trial or conviction. Even afterward, citizens sometimes have spent more than the property was worth trying to retrieve it.

Finney, D-Wichita, said police departments seize millions of dollars in property annually.

“Kansans should be innocent until proven guilty,” she said.

Finney’s handpicked successor, Rep. Ford Carr, agreed with Gilkey’s suggestion. Carr said he’s working on legislation that would send a percentage of cannabis revenue into the communities around dispensaries, if Kansas were to approve medical marijuana.

“That money could fund more treatment centers, create more in-patient beds, help communities,” Carr said.

Carr also cautioned against overexuberance regarding the forfeiture reform.

“They can still shake you down,” he said of the police. “It’s just a little more difficult now. There’s a lot more work to be done.”

According to Kansas Reflector, the Kansas Judicial Council reported that state law enforcement agencies seized $23.1 million in property from July 2019 to November 2023. Of that, $5.7 million was transferred to the federal government under a revenue-sharing agreement.

Only a fourth of the remaining $17.4 million made its way back to the owners. That property retrieval process took an average of 249 days.

This is why Gilkey’s questions are so profound. Many Black communities and brown communities look as though they’ve been strip mined — because they have. Imagine what millions in reinvestment could do for those neighborhoods?

“We could open a trade school, build community centers, create jobs to get and keep kids off the street,” Gilkey said. “Some of this money has to go back into the community where it can make a real difference.”

Gilkey scoffed at the idea of proceeds funding police training.

“They’ve already got money in the budget for training,” Gilkey said. “That’s part of the budget every year. All they’re doing is buying more weapons, and who knows what else?”

This money also could be used to bring some funding parity to public defender offices. Where district attorney offices gulp, public defender offices sip from the budget trough.

Law enforcement predictably pushed back on these reforms, conjuring images of Mexican cartels and Chinese syndicates. Law enforcement’s insistence that a provision for jury trials be stricken from the bill was telling. The watchers didn’t want to be watched.

Gilkey said this question has long lingered in his mind.

Before he and his wife, Lynn, became nationally renowned mentors invited to the White House for their work with youths, they were on the wrong end of some of those law enforcement raids. He wondered even then where all the money and drugs went.

Police once arrested him after hand-to-hand purchases of crack cocaine. With each purchase, he said, undercover officers threw in a free bag of high-grade marijuana.

“What do they do with all this money when they do drug raids?” he recalled asking himself. “What do they do with all of the drugs?”

What better victims than neighborhoods of second-class Americans no one would believe, or worse, people whom authorities wouldn’t fear disrespecting or disappointing?

Before he turned his life around, Gilkey worried about rival dealers, and gangs of armed youths.

In the dangerous environment he moved in, policing for profit created just another group of people he had to watch out for.

Mark McCormick is the former executive director of The Kansas African American Museum, a member of the Kansas African American Affairs Commission and former deputy executive director at the ACLU of Kansas. Through its opinion section, Kansas Reflector works to amplify the voices of people who are affected by public policies or excluded from public debate. Find information, including how to submit your own commentary, here.

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