Dear America,
First let me start by introducing myself. I am a 29 year old African-American man. My name is not important. You might as well call me Trayvon Martin Oscar Grant Emmett Till III.
I’m writing this letter because my story, like so many other African-American men has left me confused and frustrated with society. I’m as American as Apple Pie, but why in 2013 am I still treated so much like an outcast in my own country? Law enforcement assumes I’m guilty, neighborhood watch makes me feel like I don’t belong here, and you cross the street when my friends and I are headed in your direction. Believe it or not, hoodie on or not, I am a human being with feelings and emotions, who just wants to be treated like everyone else. So many men that look like me are treated as if their life has less value than that of their white counterparts. Just last week, I was pulled over by a police officer who couldn’t tell me why he pulled me over. He just wanted to see my papers. Knowing that I hadn’t committed any crimes or broken the law I just sucked it up and gave the police officer my license and registration. Here is where the conversation gets interesting. The officer then says, “What are you doing here, why you here.” I was immediately taken back by that question. Did I not have the right to travel as I pleased? I never knew I needed the police’s permission to head to the beach on my day off of work. A friend of mine, who was in the passenger seat started to make conversation with the officer. She told him how great of a guy I was and how I wasn’t out to cause any trouble. The officer said he would be the judge of that and walked back to his car to run my paper work. When he returned to my car he looked at my friend and said, “He has no warrants or outstanding child support so I guess he’s ok.” Then he laughed.
CHILD SUPPORT!? Was he serious? I was disgusted, but smiled to keep from snapping back at the officer. Why did he even mention child support? What did that have to do with him pulling me over? I’ve always been told police were supposed to protect and serve; instead I was emasculated in front of my friend, an African American woman, by the very person whose job it is to protect me. If the officer’s job was to make me feel inferior, he succeeded. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time I’ve been accosted by the police. When I was 15, four police officers put their guns to my face, hands on triggers, because they thought I stole someone’s car radio. Or how about the time I was 22 and some South Jersey police decided to raid my car because my rear tail light was out. (Here’s one more just for fun) How can I forget about the time I was stopped and frisked in New York City (Why you may ask…no reason). If you’re a black man in America these stories are all too common. We all know racism exists, that’s not why I’m confused. I’m confused because when I have this conversation with my white counterparts all I get is dumbfounded looks. “Well you must have done something wrong,” they say. “Police aren’t really like that.” Why can’t my friends or co-workers who aren’t black understand how dangerous it is to be me, or look like me for that matter? The only time I’ve had a gun pointed to my face was by the police, not by a junkie or a drug dealer, or by someone who looked like me, but instead by a cop, more than once. The police have never come to my rescue. I fear for my life, every time I am in the presence of police. I fear that I could say anything he or she doesn’t like and it’s my life that is taken.
For all the African American moms reading this, I pray for you. To anyone not black who reads this, I hope this starts the dialogue which helps you understand what it’s like to be Black in America. To my young black men, we will prevail through any obstacles.
Sincerely,
A Black Guy in America
