Fight the Power

 Police Story 1 (Stereotyping Me Makes You Stereotypical)

It was around 11pm when I left my cousin’s house. I got to the corner and saw two police officers sitting in the car staring at me. As I turned the corner, I saw flashing lights in my rear view mirror. In Chicago it’s not unusual to be stopped by the police for no reason.  One thing I appreciated about moving to the South is that the police actually stop you for a reason. No more harassment from big city cops.  When I pulled over to the curb I was concerned about my license plates. The license plates on my car didn’t belong to the car I was driving. Actually I should have been more concerned about what was on the passenger side front seat. The police officer asked me to get out the car; I did what I was told.  The officer walked me to the back of my car and left my driver door open.   I said “Can you close my door?”  he replied, “Do I look like a fucking doorman to you?”  Until this day I don’t know why I was concerned about my car door.  The officer looked at me and said, “Do you have any drugs in the car?” I said “No” “Tell me now because I hate fucking surprises.” I said “No”   I’m really hoping he doesn’t run my license plates. His partner proceeded to search my car. All of sudden his partner said “Oh Shit!”   At that very moment I remembered what was on my front seat, a brown paper bag full of weed packaged and ready for distribution.  They handcuffed me and put me in the back of the car. During my ride all I can think is how much I needed that money. At that time jail didn’t concern me. I knew it would be hard for me to bounce back from this.

We arrived at the police station and they began to write me up while I’m still handcuffed.  During this time other white officers surrounded me and asked what I did.  I ignored them. The arresting officer takes the bag and slowly pours out the weed on his desk. The officers began to laugh and crack jokes on me.  “Hey were you going smoke all this tonight?”  The officers laughed. I never responded.  The arresting officer continues to type his version of a profile of me.  “What gang are you in?” “I’m not in a gang.” The other officers began to laugh again. “Of course you’re in gang.”  The arresting officer looks at me and says “What gang is your neighbor in?” I said “My neighbor is not in a gang.” Another officer in the room stood up and said “Watch this.” He pulls up the arm sleeve of my clothing expecting to see a gang tattoo.  Ha! Jokes on you officer I don’t have any tattoos.  The arresting officer asked “What gang is in your neighborhood?”  I said “Gangster Disciples” and that is exactly what he wrote in my file “gangster disciple distributing drugs.”  They were stereotyping me and making me look bad in front of the judge.  Judges only have the file to read when you step in court.  Wrong is wrong and I’ll take whatever punishment, but don’t lie on me. Don’t make me out to be some kind of drive by night hoodlum.

Police Story 2 (How many feet are in a Yard)

Rob shot the sawed off shot gun down the alley. I said “Damn dude, why didn’t you shoot in the air?” We were just having fun testing the guns I had hidden my house. I had a sawed off ’12 gauge and a rifle. I didn’t have bullets for the rifle, but had a few for the shot gun.  We didn’t spend too much time outside; I was babysitting my niece.  We went back into the house and chilled. Rob went outside to the front porch. He comes back in the house and says “The police are outside!” “For what?” I asked. I went to the back where we shot the gun and seen several officers with their flashlights, but they couldn’t be looking for us. We were just out there five minutes ago. Police don’t respond that fast and if so, why was it so many? I immediately went and hid the guns. Before I knew it the police were in my house asking me where the guns were.  I said “Why are you guys in my house?”  An officer replied “Don’t start talking that warrant shit!” “Well if you guys don’t have a warrant I can sue you right?” No response. It was about five white officers and two black officers, one male and one female. The black female just stood there looking like we disgusted her. Rob and I just stood there while they tore up my mom’s house looking for the guns.  Finally one of the officers who were apparently frustrated turned to my four year old niece and said “Have you seen a gun around here?” He proceeded to point to his weapon. “This is a gun.” My niece said “No.” I said “Sir, don’t talk to my niece.” I looked at the black female officer as if she would take my side and see this entire procedure was illegal and disrespectful. They looked for about 45 minutes and just as they began to give up their search, I hear a voice yell from the back porch, “I got em!” They handcuffed us right in front of my niece.  My neighbor took my niece while the rest of the block watched me and Rob escorted out to the police car. One the officers asked me if I wanted to make deal.  He said if I could tell him where more guns were he can reduce the charges. His partner quickly said “That’s okay we’re not making any deals today.”  As Rob and I sat in the back seat I watched the police officers have a discussion and laugh like it’s all a joke to them. They both got into the car and began to talk under their breath. The officer on the passenger says “Okay fellas, are you ready for some questions?”  Rob and I sat in silence. The officer says “How many feet are in a yard?” Rob replied “Twelve.”; the officer started laughing. I looked at Rob like he was stupid and then I said “It’s three feet in a yard.” The officer reacts, “Whoa! I can’t believe it! I can’t believe you got it right!”  It took me a while to understand that moment, but after years of playing that situation back in my head I know exactly what he was thinking. Every black person he arrests doesn’t know how many feet are in a yard. Apparently he and his partner had a bet on this and today they both lost, because when I asked the officer what was the answer he usually gets, he said “They usually tell me how many feet is in their back yard.” and he laughed again. I guess we’re just some dumb black criminals in his mind, but you’ll be surprised how many officers have this mentality.

I went to jail and was let out because it was no more room in the county jail. I had a court date two days later. As I stood there with the public defender, the officer told the judge his story of the arrest.  The officer lied and said he chased us into the house that night. He had to cover up the fact that they didn’t have a warrant to come into my house. I whispered to my public defender “He’s lying.”  The public defender told me to hold my thoughts. Thinking I would eventually get a chance to speak, I did what I was told. Before I knew it I was being sentenced for my crime. I had no voice, no representation. I was simply a case number. It was all a system set up for a man like me and everyone was playing their part.  Until this day I say the police, public defenders and judges are the real criminals.

The Point ↓

FIGHT THE POWER!