#BLM

Out of context: Reply #200

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  • sarahfailin16

    “This is what I wore to work today. On my way to get a burrito before work, I was detained by the police.

    I noticed the police car in the public lot behind Centre Street. As I was walking away from my car, the cruiser followed me. I walked down Centre Street and was about to cross over to the burrito place and the officer got out of the car.

    "Hey my man," he said.

    He unsnapped the holster of his gun.

    I took my hands out of my pockets.

    "Yes?" I said.

    "Where you coming from?"

    "Home."

    Where's home?"

    "Dedham."

    How'd you get here?"

    "I drove."

    He was next to me now. Two other police cars pulled up. I was standing in from of the bank across the street from the burrito place. I was going to get lunch before I taught my 1:30 class. There were cops all around me.

    I said nothing. I looked at the officer who addressed me. He was white, stocky, bearded.

    "You weren't over there, were you?" He pointed down Centre Street toward Hyde Square.

    "No. I came from Dedham."

    "What's your address?"

    I told him.

    "We had someone matching your description just try to break into a woman's house."

    A second police officer stood next to me; white, tall, bearded. Two police cruisers passed and would continue to circle the block for the 35 minutes I was standing across the street from the burrito place.

    "You fit the description," the officer said. "Black male, knit hat, puffy coat. Do you have identification."

    "It's in my wallet. May I reach into my pocket and get my wallet?"

    "Yeah."

    I handed him my license. I told him it did not have my current address. He walked over to a police car. The other cop, taller, wearing sunglasses, told me that I fit the description of someone who broke into a woman's house. Right down to the knit cap.

    Barbara Sullivan made a knit cap for me. She knitted it in pinks and browns and blues and oranges and lime green. No one has a hat like this. It doesn't fit any description that anyone would have. I looked at the second cop. I clasped my hands in front of me to stop them from shaking.

    "For the record," I said to the second cop, "I'm not a criminal. I'm a college professor." I was wearing my faculty ID around my neck, clearly visible with my photo.

    "You fit the description so we just have to check it out." The first cop returned and handed me my license.

    "We have the victim and we need her to take a look at you to see if you are the person."

    It was at this moment that I knew that I was probably going to die. I am not being dramatic when I say this. I was not going to get into a police car. I was not going to present myself to some victim. I was not going let someone tell the cops that I was not guilty when I already told them that I had nothing to do with any robbery. I was not going to let them take me anywhere because if they did, the chance I was going to be accused of something I did not do rose exponentially. I knew this in my heart. I was not going anywhere with these cops and I was not going to let some white woman decide whether or not I was a criminal, especially after I told them that I was not a criminal. This meant that I was going to resist arrest. This meant that I was not going to let the police put their hands on me.

    If you are wondering why people don't go with the police, I hope this explains it for you.

    Something weird happens when you are on the street being detained by the police. People look at you like you are a criminal. The police are detaining you so clearly you must have done something, otherwise they wouldn't have you. No one made eye contact with me. I was hoping that someone I knew would walk down the street or come out of one of the shops or get off the 39 bus or come out of JP Licks and say to these cops, "That's Steve Locke. What the FUCK are you detaining him for?"

    The cops decided that they would bring the victim to come view me on the street. The asked me to wait. I said nothing. I stood still.

    "Thanks for cooperating," the second cop said. "This is probably nothing, but it's our job and you do fit the description. 5' 11", black male. One-hundred-and-sixty pounds, but you're a little more than that. Knit hat."

    A little more than 160. Thanks for that, I thought.

    An older white woman walked behind me and up to the second cop. She turned and looked at me and then back at him. "You guys sure are busy today."

    I noticed a black woman further down the block. She was small and concerned. She was watching what was going on. I focused on her red coat. I slowed my breathing. I looked at her from time to time.

    I thought: Don't leave, sister. Please don't leave.

    The first cop said, "Where do you teach?"

    "Massachusetts College of Art and Design." I tugged at the lanyard that had my ID.

    "How long you been teaching there?"

    "Thirteen years."

    We stood in silence for about 10 more minutes.

    An unmarked police car pulled up. The first cop went over to talk to the driver. The driver kept looking at me as the cop spoke to him. I looked directly at the driver. He got out of the car.

    "I'm Detective Cardoza. I appreciate your cooperation."

    I said nothing.

    "I'm sure these officers told you what is going on?"

    "They did."

    "Where are you coming from?"

    "From my home in Dedham."

    "How did you get here?"

    "I drove."

    "Where is your car?"

    "It's in the lot behind Bukhara." I pointed up Centre Street.

    "Okay," the detective said. "We're going to let you go. Do you have a car key you can show me?"

    "Yes," I said. "I'm going to reach into my pocket and pull out my car key."

    "Okay."

    I showed him the key to my car.

    The cops thanked me for my cooperation. I nodded and turned to go.

    "Sorry for screwing up your lunch break," the second cop said.

    I walked back toward my car, away from the burrito place. I saw the woman in red.

    "Thank you," I said to her. "Thank you for staying."

    "Are you ok?" She said. Her small beautiful face was lined with concern.

    "Not really. I'm really shook up. And I have to get to work."

    "I knew something was wrong. I was watching the whole thing. The way they are treating us now, you have to watch them. "

    "I'm so grateful you were there. I kept thinking to myself, 'Don't leave, sister.' May I give you a hug?"

    "Yes," she said. She held me as I shook. "Are you sure you are ok?"

    "No I'm not. I'm going to have a good cry in my car. I have to go teach."

    "You're at MassArt. My friend is at MassArt."

    "What's your name?" She told me. I realized we were Facebook friends. I told her this.

    "I'll check in with you on Facebook," she said.

    I put my head down and walked to my car.

    My colleague was in our shared office and she was able to calm me down. I had about 45 minutes until my class began and I had to teach. I forgot the lesson I had planned. I forget the schedule. I couldn't think about how to do my job. I thought about the fact my word counted for nothing, they didn't believe that I wasn't a criminal. They had to find out. My word was not enough for them. My ID was not enough for them. My handmade one-of-a-kind knit hat was an object of suspicion. My Ralph Lauren quilted blazer was only a "puffy coat." That white woman could just walk up to a cop and talk about me like I was an object for regard. I wanted to go back and spit in their faces. The cops were probably deeply satisfied with how they handled the interaction, how they didn't escalate the situation, how they were respectful and polite.

    I imagined sitting in the back of a police car while a white woman decides if I am a criminal or not. If I looked guilty being detained by the cops imagine how vile I become sitting in a cruiser? I knew I could not let that happen to me. I knew if that were to happen, I would be dead.

    Nothing I am, nothing I do, nothing I have means anything because I fit the description.

    I had to confess to my students that I was a bit out of it today and I asked them to bear with me. I had to teach.

    After class I was supposed to go to the openings for First Friday. I went home.”

    -Steve Locke
    https://www.stevelocke.com/blog/…

    sarahfailin 16Permalink
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    • could have just post the linkpango
    • +1,000,000monospaced
    • There is plenty of room here in the side notes for deathboy and his racist rants, I means opinions.utopian
    • Sounds like the cops were nothing but courteous/profession... - are they not supposed to check out someone who matches a description?rland
    • Ha. Typical response to ppl you don't know in a position that attracts power hungry thugs... And sometimes decent ppl... Be cool don't projectdeathboy
    • I get pulled over before rolling down window both hands plain site on the wheel. Announce any move for registration and go slow. Not a race thingdeathboy
    • Deathboy cunttank02
    • An acknowledgement of the types of ppl attracts to law enforcement and shit they deal with daily. Again gold wheels on a whip does make those types aggressivedeathboy
    • Even if I'm white. It profiling or experience amongst some cops. Others just dumb as fuck as typical politicians and other public servantsdeathboy
    • Best thing to do is avoid and if can't comply. You don't see much shit out of total compliancedeathboy
    • And the thing about this click bait is I never think wether a white black Hispanic officer might be judging me based on racedeathboy
    • More about how I may be perceived by them. I know myself but if I look a certain way I would love me to clarify. I think gd wheels on fast car says more than skdeathboy
    • Color towards profiling. Maybe the guy is a bit racist and fearful of skin colors. So be it.deathboy
    • Or maybe equally feeling same shit despite race undermines objectives and self importance. Talk about equalitydeathboy
    • what a cuntpango
    • That's a mean thing to say about Steve u don't know pangodeathboy
    • Only images be u can be responding to post without a rationale argument right? Seems common sensedeathboy
    • Think about it pango. Is there any different narrative? Person fears incorrect authority?deathboy
    • Deathboy is grade a meat sausage... all the shit of the floor. I bet when you get pulled over you don't expect to die (if you ever get pulled).necromation
    • some idiot should come up and say.. -can we discuss race without history -neverscared
    • You're ignoring the man's experience. He felt guilty until proven innocent and knew that he could end up dead if things escalated.monoboy
    • Which appears to be the standard experience if you're black and also male. You get treated differently. This needs to stop.monoboy
    • I was approached a NYPD cruiser in the street once, tapped on the officers window. They both jumped, and carefully wound down the window.monoboy
    • *once not wasmonoboy
    • I was lost and only wanted directions. (You ask a Policeman in the UK).monoboy
    • Their reaction and that of others on the 'sidewalk' made me realise that I'd just made a mistake.monoboy
    • The prevalence of guns makes American society highly aggressive, suspicious and unpleasant. The racism must make it pretty unbearable, if you're black.monoboy
    • Or white for that matter.monoboy
    • Well deathboy gained his prick status elsewhere but to be fair, he's spot on in this thread.shaft
    • What a cuntpango
    • No he’s not. He’s missed the whole point and is a deplorable CUNT in response.monospaced
    • What about Spaceboy ?i_was
    • Read the second comment.i_was
    • Far too much detailed precision in recollection of dialogue in tense situations, so obviously scripted, doesn't even qualify as creative non-fictionBustySaintClaire
    • Why? Just why????mapleT
    • So, it’s too well written to be believable? I guess that makes sense if you’re a total fucking idiot and worship trump speak. Quality communication is a threatmonospaced
    • seems busty is a dumbas and can´t recollect detailed experiences.neverscared
    • ass!neverscared
    • Another cuntpango
    • Haha cunts for ignoring his feelings while ignoring mine...lol. education has fully faileddeathboy
    • Seriously I understand what he says more than him. What he is saying is my gold wheels and pimp whip is his skin.deathboy
    • But it's not entirely true. Depends on neighborhoods and crime. If he is in a high area of crime related by black people he should look to get awaydeathboy
    • Or focus on fixing the community instead of bling cops for thinking he fits an actual profiledeathboy
    • Like blackjack reading situations you lean towards certain probability. It's very human. And only systematic if that is the usual outcomes.deathboy
    • Than the real problem isn't with cops at all. Which is the elephant in the room no o e including blacks want to talk aboutdeathboy
    • I don't think cops go up to white ppl and all like hey we same skin color it's cool. Even white people are profiled based on a litany of descriptions and contexdeathboy
    • To officers abilities. I've also been ran through a ton of field tests being pulled over simply because I seemed nervous. Apologized afterwards and was like wedeathboy
    • Also been entrapped to provide details I didn't need to out of fear which increased my tax. Although I also know there are good cops and they have given me somedeathboy
    • Good tips with dealing with da's and the system. Also behaviors and what and how to challenge. Which have been helpfuldeathboy
    • Shit I even have more stories dealing with cops. I do t think it's race at all unless there is reason to profile. More the nature of the beast and who it attracdeathboy
    • Fuckin saints who want to be a cop not out power but to help protect. Wo t catch me dealing with the shit they dodeathboy
    • still a cuntpango
    • well now, Mr Steve Locke should definitely move to Europe. This kind of sick totalitarian shit would never happen here, maybe except Sovietlandrzu-rzu
    • Pango when u have nothing good to say probably better to not say anything. Your response says more than u knowdeathboy
    • cool
      you cunt.      pango
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