District Chronicles

This is what I do whenever I see flashing lights in my rearview mirror: I put on my hazard lights and pull over as soon as safely possible. Then I put the car in park, roll down both front windows fully, turn off the engine, take the keys out of the ignition and dangle them high in the air out the driver’s side window before placing them on the roof of the car.

Next, I cross my arms at the wrist, spread my fingers and display my empty hands out of the window and wait for the officer to come to the door to give me instructions. When the officer asks for my license and registration, I explain that they are in my pocket and my glove compartment, and I ask if it’s all right to move my hands in order to retrieve them. I don’t make any movement without first getting the officer’s blessing to do so.

The last time I was pulled over, in the summer of 2012, the officer told me it was to make sure I “had insurance.” I was sure that wasn’t a legitimate reason for stopping me. I was furious. I wanted to curse. I wanted to get belligerent. I wanted to hurl accusations at the officer about his motivation for stopping me. I had done absolutely nothing wrong, and I knew it.

But during that stop, the officer had no idea about the fury inside me. I was cooperative and answered him with only “Yes, sir,” and “No, sir.”

I wonder what would have happened had I acted on my emotions. If I had gotten loud or animated. How would that officer have reacted?

Immediately after the stop, I reached out to friends, including a couple of attorneys, one of them a black attorney from Birmingham, Ala. I was still fuming when I called him and detailed what had just happened. Instead of being sympathetic, he calmly responded, “Be glad you made it home.”

He was sincere in telling me that I should be grateful for the ultimate outcome of my police interaction: I wasn’t dead.

A subsequent investigation by the officer’s department determined that the officer was wrong to stop me. The department retrained him and other officers on traffic stops.

I am now pleading with young brothers to abandon the idea of winning, fairness, vindication or satisfaction. The No. 1 goal has to be survival. Survive the situation. Just live. 

My parents and experience taught me that you don’t want that officer on edge, nervous or agitated. Stay calm. Don’t get animated. Don’t get loud. Don’t be a smart-ass.

It doesn’t matter if you’re 100 percent innocent. Don’t give that officer an excuse to act on what he might already preconceive as a threat: a black man. At that moment, your pride or even your rights cannot be the priority. Your life is. [MORE]