I was afraid

Today was Inaguration Day for the second time for Bush. I'm not going to comment except to say that he wasn't elected the first time and, as far as I'm concerned, he wasn't elected this time. He may be living in the White House with all the perks and privileges given to the president, but he is not MY president. But I digress.

Here in Portland, as you may know, people will protest and march about almost anything. That said, Inaguration Day (or Coronation Day) is, of course, a more than perfect opportunity for many of us to march. Organization for the day's marches and protests has been going on for weeks and there were a number of different groups organizing all over the city. Prof NV required all his classes to attend one of the protests rallies and make observations. No participation required, just observation.

I attended a rally (a whole other sad story) and, as I was walking back to campus, fell in with the *big* march that was winding its way from the northside down towards the southside. I happened to meet up with some friends and walked with them til the end. I didn't realize we were at the end until I saw people walking back towards me and lines of police blocking the end of the street. I left my friends to walk up the side street, back towards school, and found my way blocked by a police officer. I tried to go around and up the street but she moved her bike in front of me and wouldn't let me pass.

Me: "Why can't I walk up the street?"
Her: "Because you can't"
Me: "Why not?"
Her: "Because you can't"
Me: "I don't understand. I'm trying to go back to school and I want to walk up the street."
Her: "Well, you can't."
Me: "But there are other people standing and walking up there."
Her:
Me: "Look at those people - they're walking up the street."
Her:
Me: "Is there something wrong with me that I can't walk up the street?"
Her:
Me: "Is there something wrong with me?"
Her:

She had completely zoned me out. I had ceased to exist for her as a person. She would not speak to me, look in my direction, or make eye contact with me. I was no longer visible, even when I was asking questions. I walked back a bit and encountered two other officers on bikes. I tried asking them the same questions but quickly discovered they didn't know, didn't want me asking questions, and got impatient with me for even asking. I walked to another street and went back to school.

But the encounter with the first cop stayed with me. It was the first time in my life that I consciously felt afraid. I was afraid that I could get hurt, but was more afraid of law enforcement itself. I felt that I was no longer human to Cop #1 and that she'd beat on me without any reservation if I challenged her actions. I felt vulnerable and invisible and, yet, highly exposed. She dehumanized me and disconnected entirely from the person who was standing in front of her, asking her a not unreasonable question.

She could have simply said "We'd like the crowd to disperse [over there] so please walk back that way" and I would have complied, no questions asked. But she chose to, instead, to turn on the intimidation and treat me like a nothing. I had to constantly remind myself that she was just doing her job, that she's a person also, that it's the system at fault here, not her as an individual. But she didn't see me as an invidivual, she didn't give me that credit, and it was hard not to be bitter and angry as I walked away.

And that was an insignificant encounter. I realized, in that moment, how conditioned I am to fear law enforcement and, probably, any authority that can back up its rhetoric with force. I don't want to get hurt, I don't want to go to jail, or be beaten. Mostly, I don't want to engage with the judicial system or the law enforcement bureaucracy - ever. I don't want to carry the activist badge of street cred - a story of a run-in with cops or a stay in jail/prison. I want them to leave me alone. I want to be invisible to the machinery, even as I want them to treat me as a person.

And millions of people live with this fear, greatly magnified, every, single day. They live with it because of economic reasons, the color of their skin, their choice about where to sleep, their decisions about the use and sale of drugs, and so on. Innocent people and guilty people - all living with the constant, explicit threat of violence breathing in their ears and watching their every move. If I was so afraid as a result of that nonencounter, what is the fear like when you are a young, black male who's arrest for DWB (Driving While Black)? That's not just a fear of getting a ticket, that's a fear of getting dead.

I never realized just how trained I am to be afraid of what can happen to me from tangling with the police. I have even an even deeper respect and awe for the courage of those who do it with purpose and specific intent. I cry when I watch the films from the civil rights movement that depict the viciousness and brutality of police in the south. I cry when I watch Gandhi's people march on the salt works and get beaten back with stunning force and abandon.

After tonight's experience, my resolve to continue working to address these issues is increased immeasurably. If all those people were willing to overcome something so unconscious and ingrained as the fear of being hurt by the authorities, then I have a responsibility to step up as best I can. I don't know that any of us really wants to be beaten, so the best thing I can see to do is to transform this society - the one that thinks that beating people is acceptable.