Cops and Brothas

Oscar Grant

I was going to write about the murder of Oscar Grant in Oakland a few nights ago but, I didn't. I kept seeing great blog posts about it and saying that I didn't need to but, I couldn't hold this in any longer. I think of Oscar Grant, shot to death while handcuffed... I think of Sean Bell, an unarmed man who was shot to death the night before his wedding... I think of Fred Hampton, shot to death while in his bed sleeping... I thought of Michael Griffith, Rodney King, and so many others. In each case, the offending officer thought that HE was in danger.

Sean Bell

I also think about how, as a young man, I was constantly stopped by the cops for either being some place I wasn't supposed to be (according to them... I always felt as though I belonged anywhere I happened to be) or for violating the curfew. They would always catch me, just as I was crossing 60th and Girard Avenue and attempting to run through Carolls Park to my neighborhood on the other side. The cops had a little trick they used to pull back then... they would take you to a "foreign" neighborhood, drop you off, and then you had to fight that neighborhod's gang and run back to your own neighborhood. I risked having to fight some gang, possibly robbed, and then face my mother's wrath for being late. I tell you, some nights, I was just better off staying in the house!

My mother always told me and my brother to never talk back to the cops, stand perfectly still, and never make any move that could be considered "threatening". I guess she knew. She drilled that in my head especially, because I had attitude "going to bed" and I was more than likely to get smart with the cops. I, to my credit, never gave the cops any lip... After they frisked me and determined that I was no threat, they usually let me go about my business. I violated the curfew so much, that the cops in the 19th District got to know me on a first name basis. Sometimes, they even gave me a ride home. Still, I often wonder when I would hear about the Sean Bells and the Oscar Grants, if that could have been me. One night, it surely could have been...

I was 29 years old and engaged to be married. My future wife and I went to dinner out in a Philadelphia suburb. These two cops roused me and through me up against the wall. If they had been Philly cops, it would have gone down different but, these suburban yokels were cowboys and it was one of those nights when I just wasn't with this "dog and pony show". One cop, a big beefy baby-faced guy who looked a few years younger than me, acted as if he'd just caught John Dillinger... frisking me and roughing me up. He could tell by the look on my face that I didn't like it and he seemed to enjoy it even more.

His Partner was a little older, tried to be a little more humane, and said "Sorry sir, it's just that you resemble a burglary suspect". "Oh, He was black, huh?" I said back rather tersly. "Hey, lose the attitude, okay?" said his baby-faced partner. I looked at him with fire in my eyes and my right hand was trembling but, I didn't say or do anything else. They gave me back my wallet, my keys, and they let me continue my dinner. I was so enraged that all I could do was hold back tears. What could I have done but gotten myself arrested at best, killed at worse?

It was embarrassing because it happened when I was out with my fiance. Luckily, she was inside the restaurant and didn't actually witness it. I know that cops have a tough job and I by no means hate cops. I just hate killers who hide behind a badge... I hate killers who hide behind a military uniform... and I hate the cowards who justify their actions and won't do anything about the problems (i.e. politicians) I feel blessed that I didn't become an Oscar Grant or a Sean Bell. Lord knows, the way I traveled the streets at night, I easily could have been.