I was stopped for a speeding ticket this morning on the way to work. As soon as I saw those flashing blue lights I thought to myself “Dang, now I’m going to be late.” I woke up late yesterday so I definitely didn’t want to be late today. By the time I pulled to the side of the road and stopped, my heart started to race. I couldn’t help but think about the recent encounters Black people have had with law enforcement, and I was nervous.
I looked in my rear view mirror and saw a White police officer walking toward the driver’s side of my vehicle. I rolled the window down and politely said, “Good morning, officer.” No good morning in return. But ok, maybe he wasn’t having a good morning. As I kept my hands on the steering wheel, he proceeded to tell me why he pulled me over and asked if I knew I was speeding. I said, “Yes, sir I know, but I don’t want to be late for work.” Being optimistic and thinking I could get out of this ticket, I was hoping he would use context clues to gather that I was headed to a hospital and cut me some slack. After all, I was wearing scrubs. My white coat with my name badge was hanging in the back window. My parking decal that read, “Physician Parking Deck,” was hanging from the rear view mirror…and my stethoscope was laying next to my purse on the passenger seat. Ok, yes…I was naive to think I’d get out of a ticket, but thought it may help just a little.
Anyway, the officer asked for my license and registration. I keep my license in my phone case, so I complied, and handed it over. By this point, I am more than nervous. I’m terrified. The reason is, I own a firearm. It is legal, and I have a Georgia Weapons Carry License. I travel with my gun in my glove compartment, which is where I needed to reach to retrieve my insurance card. After thinking about the location of my gun, I put both of my hands up in the air. While still holding my hands up, with wide eyes, and my heart feeling like it would beat out of my chest, I swallow to suppress what felt like a lump in my throat. I then say, “Sir, my insurance card is in my glove box. I do have a gun in the glove box, also. Is it okay for me to reach over and grab my insurance card?” He looked at me and mumbled, “Yea, okay.” I looked at him, lowered my hands from the air, then slowly reached over to open my glove compartment. I retrieved the insurance card and gave it to the officer.
He then walked back to his car to run my information through the system. A few minutes later he returns to my vehicle with my license, insurance card, and a yellow copy of a ticket for me to sign. I can’t remember exactly what he said, I just know I signed the yellow paper, let up my window and took a deep breath.
I am fortunate that nothing horrific happened during that traffic stop. Of course I know and believe that there are some wonderful law enforcement officers out there. However, I could not suppress the shear fear that there was a possibility that something bad may happen to me during that stop. The officer was not the most friendly, but he was not rude or disrespectful to me. He did not verbally harass me or physically harm me. But the fact of the matter is, I SHOULD NOT have to feel afraid to be stopped by the police. I SHOULD NOT get heart palpitations and automatically throw my hands up in the air out of instinct. I SHOULD NOT feel threatened by a uniform.
I simply SHOULD NOT be afraid of the people who take an oath to protect and serve. Nonetheless, it is hard not to be when there are constant reminders all over the country of what COULD happen to me because of the color of my skin.
I was shaken up this morning for quite a while. For some reason, I kept replaying the traffic stop in my head and saying to myself, “What if…” What if the officer was not a respectable serviceman? What would have happened if he would have “felt threatened,” and shot me in the back of the head as I reached into my glove box? What if I woke this morning, but did not make it back home?
Some may be reading this and say, “Geesh, calm down. Nothing bad happened to you.” Again, I know that there should not be blanketed generalizations when seeing a uniform, but a few bad apples can spoil the whole bunch. No matter how much I know that all policemen aren’t violent, it still did not change the way I felt this morning as I drove away. Thinking about the actions of a few crooked cops, who performed gross, and inhuman acts of violence made it extremely difficult for me to feel at ease.
It is very disheartening that a simple traffic stop could evoke so many emotions. I’m just glad all I left with was a speeding ticket in my hand.
-thedoctorjb