American Blog

Mr. Vass also writes for www.blackentertainmentblog.com. This is the first part of a 3 part post. The other portions can be seen at the link above.

Rodney King, Amidou Diallo, Sean Bell. Each of these names evoke an image to everyone who hears them, and for many of us a feeling as well. For me it evokes fear. It’s just that simple. I’m not unique many Black Americans, especially males, share this fear.

 

Face it, life is not the most fun as an African American male in these days if there ever was a time that it was. Let me explain. I have never been arrested or charged with a crime (I did get a ticket once though). I have never dealt drugs, though I grew up with many that have. I’m from the Bronx, and my family was far from rich. I have seen more than half of my friends and associates die or jailed by the time I left high school. That’s not a glorious thing, nothing to take pride in, just the facts.

 

The first time I had a run-in with the police that I can easily recall was in a train station. The officer (Black) was busting my testicles about my train pass (a day old) and made me pay full fare, which irritated me and I started to argue with him. His response was to reach for his gun and told me to go on my way. I was with 4 friends, 3 of them women, who dragged me away [I was a bit of a hot head back then, but not violent]. I was 17, in high school and taking classes at City College, 5’ 9”-ish and weighed about 110 pounds or less. [Yes I was skinny; some might say I still am] I was equal no threat to a full grown, armed police officer yet he was preparing to bring out his gun on me just because of my words.

 

In college I was walking down a street at about 12 midnight or a bit later. I was going to get some cigarettes at the newspaper stand which was the only store open at the time. As I was crossing a well-lit main street a police car pulled up, 2 officers (white) popped out the car, drew their guns and started to question me. As I was being questioned the radio was blaring about the suspect they were actually looking for. A white male, about 6’ tall with blond hair, who was wearing the same color jacket as my pants, and was in site of another police officer 5 blocks away from me. Say what you might, but I don’t look like a blond white male, and considering I was under a street lamp at the time, with an open jacket and 22 I’m not sure why then felt the need to have drawn guns on me in the first 5 seconds they saw me.

 

In Los Angeles, a few months after the Rodney King riots as I recall, officers pulled over a car I was in. I was in the passenger side seat, the driver was a Korean American friend of mine named Danny. In the back seat were 2 of our other friends from work and they happened to be white guys. We all were about 24-26. It was Friday night, about 10 or 11pm, and we were driving down Hollywood Blvd. Once we were pulled over I had an officer immediately by the door, gun pointing at my face, telling me to put my hands on the ceiling of the car. Danny was treated to a similar reaction, then he had to get his identification, all the while I had my hands on the ceiling of the car. Several times throughout this process the officer on my side kept asking the 2 white guys in the backseat if they were ok. Once the officers were sure the car wasn’t stolen, and that neither Danny nor I had any warrants we were told we could go. When we asked why we were pulled over, we were told we were driving suspiciously. We were on our way out to go to a bar, hadn’t had a drink yet, and had circled the block once looking for a parking spot. I guesstimate we had been on Hollywood Blvd. a total of 5-7 minutes and did not hold up any traffic. [Probable reason, which everyone in the car agreed on, was that they thought we had jacked the car and they didn’t like the look in the way we were seated] …