Should Mark Wahlberg be pardoned? That’s exactly the wrong question to ask.

I heard about Wahlberg’s violent past two years ago, but never imagined it would stir so much controversy. Yet the more I learn about that past, our justice system, and even the violence of the city where I work, I become less and less able to ignore it.

In 1988 in Dorchester, Boston, Thanh Lam was walking down the sidewalk with two cases of beer when a 16-year-old kid decided to rob him.

Carrying a five-foot-long wooden stick, the kid approached him, calling him a “Vietnam f****** s***”, and knocked him unconscious.

When police apprehended the kid later that night, after he attacked yet another Vietnamese resident named Hao Trinh, they brought him back to the scene of the robbery, where they found the big stick broken in half. The kid was defiant.

“You don’t have to let him identify me,” the kid said. “I’ll tell you now that’s the motherf***** whose head I split open,” before going on a rant about “slant-eyed gooks.”

This is the same person legions of Americans have come to defend for the past week, this kid who would one day become a rapper, a model, an actor and producer worth an estimated $200 million. His name is Mark Wahlberg.

As you may have already heard, Wahlberg is petitioning Massachusetts Governor Deval Patrick to pardon him of his criminal record because he is expanding his “Wahlburgers” restaurant chain and the state of California may deny him a concessionaire’s license. He worries that business, of all things, may suffer.

As a fan of Wahlberg’s work, I’m at odds with this story. Take his performance in “The Departed.” Tough, barbed and bratty, which is especially interesting when we think about the film’s father-son themes, it’s a terrific turn by Marky Mark.

Yet I can’t help but wonder: Had I been walking the Dorchester streets that night in 1988 instead, would that intoxicated 16-year-old kid have clubbed me simply for my beer, for looking the way I do?

So many people have rushed to the actor’s defense and declared him a changed man, citing his admirable work in charity as evidence of his reform: his support for the Boys & Girls Club, the Good Shepherd Center for the Homeless, and his own organization, The Mark Wahlberg Foundation.

This is a valid argument that unfortunately gets boiled to one vapid question: Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? Of course, I believe people deserve second chances; most people do. This is a tasteless rhetorical sleight of hand designed to distract you from the larger issues — to simplify the story. Instead of asking whether Wahlberg should be pardoned because he turned his life around, we should broaden the issue.

Consider the manner in which the media covers his upbringing: a young, stupid kid growing up in a broken home who had run-ins with the law, who lived in a scrappy neighborhood fell down a treacherous path. This is a whitewashed version of his story. It ignores his crimes in 1988 and it ignores his crimes in 1986, when he and his friends chased after a group of black children while hurling rocks and chanting, “Kill the n*****! Kill the n*****!”

When the media shines a light on Wahlberg’s criminal career, hoodwinked by his success and charm, it transmutes his violent history into nothing more than a series of roadblocks that handicapped his obvious potential.

Rarely do we give minority criminals the same benefit of the doubt. In the court of public opinion, they’re deemed thugs who have chosen a certain “lifestyle.” It speaks volumes that we see them as irredeemable menaces, not young people full of potential.

But, of course, not everyone can achieve that same status; not everyone can escape.

Consider the high recidivism rate of today’s prison system. If you are convicted of a crime and go to prison, there’s a seven out of 10 chance you’ll commit another crime and return to jail. This is a failure of the prison system to successfully re-assimilate convicts into society.

Between 70 and 100 million Americans have a criminal record. That means almost a third of our country’s population may face economic barriers every single day. And although the rate of violent crime is decreasing dramatically, prison populations have increased 430 percent 1979–2009.

Not, let’s consider the process of pardoning: How often are pardons issued? To whom are they given? What kind of crimes does the government pardon? Do they pardon violent crimes? How expensive is the process? Would high expense rates disproportionately prevent the poor from applying?

Americans are great lovers of redemption stories, and Wahlberg’s may be a fine example of one. It’s true that Wahlberg’s victim, Trinh, has forgiven him in a recent article by the Daily Mail and even pledged to send a written statement supporting the actor. Whether Gov. Patrick grants him a pardon is the business of government, and I’m not even sure Wahlberg should be denied one.

But I wonder if we would be so willing to extend that same courtesy — the benefit of the doubt — to others hounded by their past, who have reformed, who could’ve been a Mark Wahlberg. More important still: Should we pardon them?

Those are the questions we should be asking about the justice system, our culture and ourselves.

Sean Czarnecki spent the majority of his childhood in a video rental store and loves everything about movies. He can be emailed at sczar.18@gmail.com. For more movie talk follow him on Twitter @SeanMCzarnecki.