Stop And Frisk

The door opens, white hands, badges and blue uniforms, I tense up. At an early age, I realized that my body did not belong to me. They “Stopped and Frisked” me, long before the law was in place. This is the day I learn my place. The slave on the auction block, ready to be bought and sold. Are they going to check my teeth? I’m trying to escape this humility, as white people drive by. Being put on display like a public lynching/barbecue. Why don’t they just put me in the police car? They sit me on the curb. They ask what’s in the bag? I tell them, my eraser, pencil, and my Etch
A Sketch. They do bodily harm, when they put their hands on me again. Today was my “Training Day”. I try to put my mind in another place, as I disconnect from my body. Flash forward 45 years, sitting in Starbucks. Door opens, white hands, badges and blue uniforms. I tense up, And in that moment, I realize that, black people don’t resist arrest, they react to 400 years of conditioning and oppression.
This was a true story by Lynel Gardner

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.