I drive the I-95 frequently. So often, in fact, that I know where state troopers will be camped out. The main highway leads me to another interstate straight to my house. As a relatively new resident of my area, I’m still learning alternative routes or roads that will get me home quicker during rush hour.
This particular day, I’d left New York in a rush and didn’t get a chance to eat. Halfway home, I decided to stop by the neighborhood 7-11.
I had the sense to know how this traffic stop would likely be conducted and I didn’t want to give the officer any reason to say I reached for something inside my car.
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As I pulled back out onto the main street, I made a quick right. There was a traffic light but no “No turn on red” sign. I made the turn and proceeded slowly down the side street towards a stop sign. Not even 10 seconds later, I saw the flash of red lights in my rearview; lights that, today, send a chill down my spine.
Immediately, I took the keys out of the ignition, switched my cell phone to a record setting, and placed both on top of my car. I had the sense to know how this traffic stop would likely be conducted and I didn’t want to give the officer any reason to say I reached for something inside my car.
The officer took my information and when everything checked out, he asked how long I’d lived in the neighborhood and why my car wasn’t registered in VA. This line of questioning was irrelevant to why he stopped me; which he stated was for running a red light and not wearing my seat belt. The former was flat out untrue.
As he wrote the ticket, he finally asked why my phone and car keys were on top of my car. Without any type of indignation, I told him “I don’t want to get shot today, sir.” I meant that sincerely from my heart.
He laughed at me, shook his head, and said “That’s unnecessary don’t you think?”
To this officer, I was overreacting. And maybe I was. However, living in my skin, I’ve learned that there is never a “right” way when it comes to interactions with police officers.
Living in America as a black man right now means living in a constant state of fear that one encounter with a cop could be your last moment alive.
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As a black man, overzealous, jumpy cops aren’t new to me. I’ve been slammed on the hoods of squad cars. I’ve been wrongfully and illegally detained. I’ve had a gun pointed at me. My experience is one that’s prevalent having lived through the height of New York’s discriminatory stop and frisk practice. I took the treatment because I didn’t know anything else. However, I never feared for my life until recently.
Living in America as a black man right now means living in a constant state of fear that one encounter with a cop could be your last moment alive.
Many love the conflate the argument of black on black crime with the senseless shooting deaths of men, women, and children by cops. Here’s the thing: when I’m in my neighborhood, I’m not waking up every morning thinking a black man might shoot me. In fact, I feel safest at home. What I do fear every day is crossing paths with a cop who doesn’t have the capacity to see me as a human being. I fear that me having black skin won’t supercede a cop’s inherent bias that I’m less than and therefore not worthy of universal rights.
Sure, I want justice for men who didn’t deserve to die. But what I think can finally affect change is men in uniform who take the fears of people of color seriously.
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Philando Castile was a citizen exercising his second amendment right. Not only did he have a gun legally, he clearly stated that to the officer who shot him. He did what any black man would do out of pure instinct. That cop didn’t care. He indiscriminately shot a man in cold blood with a child in the backseat. That’s not an officer who should be wearing the badge nor is he someone with any common decency and respect.
And really that’s what I want from cops. Sure, I want justice for men who didn’t deserve to die. But what I think can finally affect change is men in uniform who take the fears of people of color seriously.
I want cops that stop to think “This man is someone’s brother, son, husband, father who’s simply trying to get home, same as I am”.
This country needs cops who know it’s not their job to make snap decisions that escalate a routine traffic stop or a simple arrest to a murder investigation. We need cops who remember that working in law enforcement is about service, not flexing your status as self-proclaimed superheroes.
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Photo: Getty Images
I’m not black and accordingly I can’t say what it’s like living in your shoes but when you said “I’m not waking up every morning thinking a black man might shoot me. In fact, I feel safest at home.” I struggle. I struggle because of the countless kids I’ve worked with that some of them have gone so far as to say that they don’t expect to live past the age of 21. Not because of the police but rather the neighborhood(s) they live in Chicago. Given the “fact” that most cops are decent, and the number of whites killed… Read more »