I was channel surfing between the Masters and DVR programs when it came across my screen. Protesters were gathered outside the Brooklyn Center Police Department after an officer shot and killed 20-year-old Daunte Wright during a traffic stop. Further research revealed Wright was pulled over because of an expired tag. It was later found he had an outstanding warrant for his arrest, and he resisted. He was wanted on a misdemeanor charge and now he’s dead. An officer is claiming she thought she deployed her Taser and shot him by accident.
Regardless of her reasoning, another Black man, a son and a father, is dead and gone, killed by those charged to protect and serve. This is a gut-wrenching reality. Will charges follow? Is a conviction coming? It feels like a movie marathon where everyone knows the ending. As my 15-year-old approaches driving age, I don’t have the words to articulate my concern. It’s overwhelmingly exhausting. What if he laughs out of nervousness during a traffic stop? What if he reaches for his inhaler because he can’t breathe? As a Black man and father to Black children, a police encounter can easily turn deadly. It’s sad and sickening!
Some folks always argue, “You don’t have anything to worry about if you’re not breaking the law” or “Just do what they say; why not comply?”
But even that can end in death. I’ve been driving for more than 20 years. By all accounts, I’m a law-abiding citizen. But as a Black man, that frankly doesn’t matter. When I see the police, despite knowing I’m doing nothing wrong, I go into survival mode. I always check my speed, and I don’t let them get behind me. I’ll take the first detour to allow them to pass.
I’ve survived all of my traffic stops. It’s a good day when the penalty is a $300 ticket. My closest call happened at home in a prestigious neighborhood.
Cops beat on my door late one winter night. I had been asleep for hours and my first thought was to grab a gun as I went to the front door. I was so out of it, I just rushed to the door because I wanted the noise to stop. I didn’t know who was pounding on my door. I now wonder what would have happened if I went to the door with a firearm hidden behind the door.
Turns out, the police thought I was assaulting my wife because they got a domestic disturbance call from a number linked to my house. That number was a neighbor’s cell phone — a neighbor who called the police on my mother years earlier because she parked on my grass. I had every right to be upset and instinctively protect my home. But considering what happened to Breonna Taylor, I could see myself getting shot and killed had I returned the same aggression the officers offered me that night and I had a gun in my hand — even inside my own home.
I’m alive to tell my story, but I very easily could not have been. And it is a fear Black parents carry with us daily, especially when it comes to our young Black children.
It’s my responsibility to keep my teenagers safe. How do I accomplish that when “the talk” is pointless?
The news cycle and trending topics make the talk necessary, but what do you say? They can show their gun license and get shot and killed. They can go for a jog and end up dead. They can lay under the knee of a uniformed officer and then have their background blamed for their death. They can put their hands out of the windows to show compliance and get pepper sprayed.
As long as Blacks live in their skin, there isn’t a place on Earth where Black lives matter and they are safe. Unarmed Black people are dying in police custody. Kyle Rittenhouse was armed, and police gave him water.
White parents, we need you to take heed to what’s happening and become outraged.
Don’t tweet about your latte options while Black people are dying. Don’t private message your Black friends offering support if you aren’t publicly going to bat for us. Don’t condemn riots before you condemn the root cause of the riots.
Realize that your voice is powerful. Realize that silence is complicity. And most importantly, don’t look to Black people to solve this problem. Step up and speak out. Admit Black lives don’t matter right now and become part of the solution that makes them matter.
