All
American Girl vs Injustice
Chapter
1:
First,
I want to be very clear that I do not condone violence toward law enforcement
officers nor do I believe that all police are bad. I have nothing but the utmost respect for
GOOD LEOs. It’s the few rotten apples the ruin it for everyone. I believe the same thing for the races,
genders, sexes, politicians, etc. I
believe that people are inherently good, but there are always going to be those
who make it harder for the rest of us to live in peace. These few are the ones I’m highlighting to
try and bring some justice to this world.
One of
the first real-life experiences I had with racism was in the 80s during high
school. My boyfriend (K) and I were out
with another couple, my best friend (J) and her boyfriend (D). J and I are white and our boyfriends, K and D
are black. *Names will not be used as I do not have permission. We went to a party in our neighboring town,
Anderson, Indiana, and we were in my car, a 1972 Dodge Dart Swinger. (My hometown peeps will remember that
car.) On the way home, K was driving,
because he was not drinking and I was “slightly” tipsy.
Shortly
after crossing the county line into Delaware County, a deputy pulled us
over. J and I were pretty naïve at the
time, but K and D were (justifiably) nervous. The deputy shown his bright light
into the car, blinding us all and asked for license and registration. K produced his license and I produced the
registration. Deputy questioned the name
on the registration because it was in my dad’s name. I gave him my license, showing we have the
same last name and address. In the meantime, I’m questioning why he pulled us
over. I know we weren’t speeding, didn’t
run any stop signs, car is running properly, etc. He refused to answer. I questioned over and over. K kept telling me to be quiet so we can
leave.
Deputy
then said he pulled us over because the car fits the description of one stolen
earlier that night. That’s when the light went on and I realized why we were
actually being pulled over. Remember the
car—1972 Dodge Dart Swinger. To the best
of my knowledge, there were not any other cars “fitting that description” in
all of Delaware County. So, here it was . . . DWBWWG (driving while black with
white girls). Now I’m pissed! I started raising my voice that he was a liar
and that he needed to let us leave immediately.
He refused and in fact, then told K to get out of the car. I wasn’t having it, so I got out of the car
to get in Deputy’s face. Everyone at this point is telling me to get back in
the car. (SIDEBAR: yes, I know I wasn’t helping matters, but my
righteous 17-year old self didn’t think clearly. Did I mention I was “slightly” tipsy?) Deputy did not like that I got out of the car
and kept yelling for me to get back in the car and K to get out. Mind you, K and D were star basketball
players for Muncie Central High School, so they couldn’t be in trouble. K had also turned 18 already, so I didn’t
want anything on his record.
Since
Deputy was putting my registration through the system, I told him he needed to
call my uncle while he was at it, because I was reporting him to his boss. Deputy was a bit snotty to me and said we
could get a phone call at the jail. I
informed him he really didn’t want to do that and he would be better off
calling my uncle immediately. As luck
would have it, Uncle Jim was on duty that night, so when he called in my
registration and said this little girl thinks I’m going to call her uncle, I
clearly heard Uncle Jim on the radio saying, “Give those kids back their
licenses and registration. Send them
home. Leave my niece and my star
basketball players alone, and get your ass in here immediately!” (If you’re from Muncie, you will recognize
Uncle Jim as the long-term county sheriff, who later went on to become mayor.
He wasn’t my blood uncle, but he was my “uncle.”)
We went
on our merry way and all was well, but what if I didn’t have recourse to call
Uncle Jim? I’ve thought about this incident many times. I’ve thought of the stupid stuff that I did
and I’ve thought of what could have happened.
These are the stories of nightmares that our Black Community lives
through EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. These are
things I’ve worried when I was married.
Would my husband make it home that night or would I (maybe) get a call
from jail or worse, the morgue? I still worry about my son, when he isn’t under
my roof, for these very same reasons.
This nonsense should not be happening.
It shouldn’t have happened to my friends and me in the 80s, and it sure
as hell shouldn’t be happening in 2020.
People! We have to do better! Have compassion. Seek peace, but you can’t have peace without
justice. Seek justice. Stand in
solidarity with your fellow man. Jesus
said, “love your neighbor.” He didn’t
put disclaimers or modifiers.
Neighbor—period. We can make this
world a better place for our children and grandchildren, but we have to end the
systemic racism. Please! Vote in every election. Do your research and vote good people into
office to make better laws and to enforce the laws equitably. (More on voting in another post to come.)
#vote #blacklivesmatter #JesusSaves #nojusticenopeace #wecandobetter
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