She's Resisting!
Friday, June 5th 2020, Breonna Taylor would have been celebrating her 27th birthday.
I want to honor her. The words to comfort her family are tough to put together. My heart endures for the women in this fight. I don’t want her to become another name lost in the hashtags. She deserves justice for her life. This very personal short story is to bring awareness. It is also meant to celebrate the lives that should have been.
She’s Resisting
After completing a deployment in the Middle East, a young African American woman returned home and found a job working at a facility that produced items for the military war efforts. This was during the height of Operation Iraqi Freedom (OIF) and as such the work load was significantly heavy. The woman was driving from her job in a small east Texas town around 3am. She was eager to get home after working a long 10 hour shift on her feet and in her haste, she may have slightly surpassed the posted speed limit. Yeah she may have been speeding. She is me. I was speeding.
Instead of using the interstate that night, I decided to take a small back road to avoid the slew of vehicles leaving the facility and possibly get home quicker. I proceeded cautiously down the road listening to some loud music with a window slightly cracked so I wouldn’t get sleepy. To my dismay, I suddenly saw the bright flash of red and blue lights heading down the small country road behind me. My stomach flipped. The physiological response was engaged. Palms shaky, pupils dilated and heart pounding. I slowed to look for a well-lit area to stop. I was already exhausted and a bit nervous, but I began to calm down so I could remember my training. Not my combat training. Oh no, that would not help me now. I remembered my home training:
Hands on the steering wheel. Check.
Driver’s License, insurance and registration tags in hand before he gets to the car. Check.
Have my phone out and visible. Check.
Don’t appear to talk too “aggressively” when I speak.
Personally, I am also aware that my soft voice and subtle tone can be perceived as threatening by some because I always sound calm. So I have to try not to sound like I’m being sarcastic or too relaxed in high intensity situations. This was a time before social media exploded, so I didn’t even think to record with my phone or call anyone at 3am to let them know my situation. Fortunately, some other people were driving on this same backroad and saw my car pulled over in the business parking lot. I couldn’t clearly see whose car had stopped a little ways down to make sure I was ok, but I knew somebody would get word to my family if anything transpired. Such is small town life. The officer approached my car and informed me I was speeding. I did not protest but said I was just heading home from work and gestured towards my badge hanging on the rear view mirror. He took my driver’s license and went back to his vehicle to run my plates. A few minutes later he came back and said I would receive a ticket for speeding. **Whew** I had a sigh of relief. No other police cars had pulled up while I waited, a tale tell sign that things could be about to get bad. I was happy with a ticket. I could go home. He asked me if I could get out to sign the ticket, which I thought was a little strange, but I complied because again, no other police cars had pulled up. I was happy with a ticket! I could go home. I stepped out of the car and walked to the back to sign the ticket that he was strategically positioning with his hand on the trunk of my car. I thought to myself “that was almost decent of him to hold the ticket book open on the trunk and under the light so I could see better”. I look back at that moment and scoff a bit at the naivety of my 23 year old mind. I let my guard down. I forgot my training. He was getting into position. Those that know where this is going understand this is where the plot twists.
When I attempted to hand the officer back his pen he swiftly tried to grab my wrist, pull my hand behind my back and say I’m under arrest all in one sloppy dysfunctional motion. It didn’t go well. Somewhat shocked, I turned back ever so slightly to face him with my mouth hanging in astonishment for a mere second as I softly inquired “are you for real, why am I under arrest?” To which he reacted by ripping his walkie-talkie from the Velcro on his shoulder and yelling out emphatically “She’s resisting! She’s resisting!” With my wrist still in his grasp, I quickly assessed the situation in full thin-slicing[1] mode. I wasn’t resisting, but trying to understand, “What Just Happened?!!” and why was I going to jail. His response, in my opinion, was a bit hyperbolic to say the least. I knew what was happening could quickly go awry if I let the situation get out of control. Recalling my training, I turned my back to him slowly. I scrunched down slightly and stretched my other arm back in order to assist him with placing the cuffs more easily. This wasn’t my first time being arrested and unfortunately it would not be my last, but I could tell it was probably his. He was intimidated by something. Something that had absolutely nothing to do with my actions that night. Perhaps it was the fact that I was a full 2-3 inches taller than him and very athletically built that made him nervous. Maybe it was the stark contrast of his pale pink clammy hands trying to clamp down on my dark chocolatey skin as he tried to snatch my wrist and slipped. Maybe it was because the sheriff that he had obviously already called while running my plates took a bit longer to show up than he had anticipated.
It was at that moment that a second police car and sheriff car hastily swerved in the gravel parking lot. Wheels spinning and guns un-holstered they exited the vehicles to assist their comrade whose distress signal had just blared across their radio. They were there to save the day and help him handle this “resistance”. To make a long story short, I did make it home the next day. Thank God. I found out I had a partially unpaid ticket from a few years back that resulted in a warrant being issued for my arrest. This is something that I actively avoid now because I have the means and knowledge to take care of those types of situations. That is not the case with many people in this country who do not have the financial wherewithal. Here, my dear friends, is the crux of the matter. I could have just as easily been another statistic. Maybe I should not have been going faster than the 50 mph posted speed limit, but honestly that is how a lot of young people drive when they return from combat. Maybe I should not have taken that back road. Maybe I should not have “resisted”. I protest that none of that should matter and it absolutely should not be the impetuous response that could potentially end a person’s life. I, like many people I know, have personally been impacted by improper policing and persistent racial disparity that exist in this country. The recent news incidents are just another manifestation of systemic racism. I have lost a family member and very close personal friend to racial violence. So many people have an opinion about what the underlying issues may be. There are also those that don’t care at all because it doesn’t affect them in any visceral way. Statically speaking, more white (Caucasian) Americans are killed by cops in this country. My question for those people that consistently tout this data is, how many of you opinionated people would be willing to trade your heavily relied on “statistics” for someone else’s experience? Where have you lost your common sense and humanity? My incident with law enforcement and others like it are not captured by any statistic or news story, but it is something that many people have to teach their children about. We all know the anecdotes. “Don’t drive through xyz city at night, keep your phone out and camera ready, the cops in [insert name] area are always looking for any reason to people of color over, etc.” I made it out of the situation with my life that night, but I can’t help but think about the many lives that should have been. The similar instances when a person was not as fortunate as I. #SandraBland 💛💙also comes to mind. She had a very similar story to mine. Young, black and extremely gifted with unlimited potential. Brown skin girl with an independent spirit. Minding her own business trying to get somewhere on a lonely road in a small Texas town when she met her demise. Her truth is buried in the rich dark soil with the tears of our ancestors. Luckily that is not where my story ended.
Since my own experience, I have learned quite a few things about policing, criminal justice and racial inequality. I have also been afforded many opportunities to serve and correct these issues in my community. I support the efforts of organizations that are using a layered and multi-pronged approach to impact significant change. Some examples are the Urban League of Louisville [2], Texas Offenders Re-Entry Initiative [3], The Innocence Project [4] and Colin Kaepernick’s Know Your Rights Campaign [5]. (Links to support in references below) I understand there is still so much more work to do but I am thankful for a chance to live through and also thrive in this time. Tougher legislation, broad sweeping accountability, standardized education, implicit bias and recertification practices all need to be probed, then dramatically overhauled. The reality is, there are law enforcement agencies in some areas of this country that still have racial discrimination engrained so deeply in the souls of the organizations that they need to be out right obliterated from the top down.
So, for my part, I keep pursuing the purpose that I believe God has placed in me for just this time. I will remain vigilant and hopeful for future generations. I will live intentionally and without apology. I will increase my efforts to effect real change in the world. I keep a positive attitude and try to be a light to other people who are in pain. I will encourage the children in my life.
#BreonnaTaylor, we love you sis! Prayers for peace and healing over your family. We won’t let them forget to say your name and the names of the many other women who have faced this injustice. No one can replace you dear Breonna, but I wanted try to honor your life in my own way. I’m fighting the good fight like Paul[6]. For more information on how you can support go to https://msha.ke/30flirtyfilm/#top-picks.
These words are my small contribution in celebration of your life. I hope my resistance makes someone that needs it uncomfortable. I was born to swim upstream.
References
1 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thin-slicing
2 https://lul.org/
3 https://medc-tori.org/
4 https://www.innocenceproject.org/
5 https://kaepernick7.com/pages/know-your-rights-camp
6 https://www.biblica.com/bible/niv/2-timothy/4/
https://msha.ke/30flirtyfilm/#top-picks
Story By: IG: @b_rob_1929 https://www.bee-rob-books.com/blog
#SayHerName #BirthdayForBreonna