Today, I woke up staring down the barrel of at least 3 guns.
On Tuesday mornings, typically I wake up at 7:45 because I have an early meeting at work. I set my alarm 10 minutes early so I can have the pleasure of hitting snooze without being late. Today, the alarm had gone off the first time. I was more tired than usual, so I had fallen back asleep.
The banging on the door jarred me out of the light slumber. Banging like I've never heard in my life. It almost didn't sound real when I heard "Police!" and heard my roommate's Dominican accent yelling "alright, alright!" It was almost exactly like TV, and they sounded like horses coming down the hall, yelling "clear" as they looked into each room. Of course, they opened the door to my room last.
"Police! Hands where I can see them!"
My mom had always trained me to be on guard as far as police go. She'd say things like, "Always get a receipt and a bag, even if you're getting a pack of gum. You don't want to give them any reason to think you stole anything." So being a black man with a pulse, I had my hands above the covers for at least 10 seconds before the police opened my door. "Get up and face the wall!" Do I use my hands to get the covers off? Are you crazy?! Hell no!
They put me in hand cuffs. That's right. Hand. Cuffs.
What the hell did my roommate get me into? Am I being arrested? Thank god I didn't have a boy over. Are they gonna toss and search my stuff? Do they know who my uncles are?
About a million things went through my head to rationalize what was going on. Once they had the handcuffs on me, they brought me out to the hall outside my room. I had trouble seeing without my contacts, but I caught a glimpse of my roommate in the hall near our door. They took me the opposite way to the living room.
Shit, they're questioning us separately! The police did this the first time I got a speeding ticket with my friend at 16! It's going down!
My mom had always trained me to be on guard as far as police go. She'd say things like, "Always get a receipt and a bag, even if you're getting a pack of gum. You don't want to give them any reason to think you stole anything." So being a black man with a pulse, I had my hands above the covers for at least 10 seconds before the police opened my door. "Get up and face the wall!" Do I use my hands to get the covers off? Are you crazy?! Hell no!
They put me in hand cuffs. That's right. Hand. Cuffs.
What the hell did my roommate get me into? Am I being arrested? Thank god I didn't have a boy over. Are they gonna toss and search my stuff? Do they know who my uncles are?
About a million things went through my head to rationalize what was going on. Once they had the handcuffs on me, they brought me out to the hall outside my room. I had trouble seeing without my contacts, but I caught a glimpse of my roommate in the hall near our door. They took me the opposite way to the living room.
Shit, they're questioning us separately! The police did this the first time I got a speeding ticket with my friend at 16! It's going down!
One of the agents made a comment to me about me getting beauty sleep and laughed. I had forgotten I had my sleep mask on my forehead. Wait, you just had your gun in my face, and you're trying to crack a joke with me?!
"Gentlemen... you are not being arrested; you're being detained... We're looking for [alias that I've never heard]. Do either of you know him?" My roommate hesitated and stuttered a bit (Shit! That's it! Even if he doesn't, they'll think he's lying and we're both going to jail! Peace out, job!)before spitting out a no. Of course, I said no.
"Who do you rent from?" It's whom, dumbass. "How long have you lived here? Have you seen this picture? Do you have warrants in your name?"
Then the ring leader disappeared for a while, and the other agents (there were like 8 of them) stood around and talked to each other. One of them was from Hawaii and had been assigned to NYC after she had applied and been accepted to some kind of special program or something. She didn't have an AK. I wonder if you need a college degree to invade people's homes and ask them questions that are irrelevant to their lives.
"What's your name?"
My roommate responded by telling them where his wallet was (seems like that would have been the first question) and then pronouncing his nearly unspellable full name.
"Your wallet's right here," they said to me, placing it on the arm of the sofa after they checked it. Right about then, I threw up in my mouth a bit. Literally (my stomach did not feel well).
Everything seemed to be wrapping up, but we were still in handcuffs until about 30 seconds before they left. We got a "sorry for the inconvenience" (oh, you mean the emotional distress of being woken up by your trigger finger and the degradation of being powerless in our own home that we experienced, not to mention the sore wrists!) as they were un-cuffing us.
My roommate just couldn't keep is mouth shut: "So is this like a routine visit?"
"We're searching for a fugative..." The ring leader basically went on to say that this was standard procedure and that we wouldn't hear from them again if our records were clear. There was more than a hint of annoyance in his voice. Sorry to bother you.
I felt seriously violated, similar to how I felt when my car got broken into in Queens. Thankfully, all my cards were still in my wallet (not to say that someone couldn't have written down a number), and my room was mostly how I found it.
What if I had had a guy over? What if I slept naked (there's only one reason why I don't anymore... I won't go into that, but my ideal preference is to sleep naked)? What if they had battered down our door because my roommate was in the shower (he usually is at that time but had woken up late because he stayed up to watch 24, ironically stating that he was thinking about applying for the CIA or FBI) and I was too disoriented to answer the door in what they considered to be a timely fashion? I'm so sure there'd be timely compensation for repair after they battered down our door.
But now I understand what a certain rapper meant when he said something like, "When you're in that kind of situation, you're just another nigger." (I also know what NWA meant when they said "Fuck the Police!") It didn't matter that I had a good GPA at a name-brand school or that I had a respectable job (or any job) or great credit (I check at the beginning of every year). It didn't matter who my uncles were or how hard my parents (and I) had worked to make sure I was a productive member of society with good morals and ample opportunities to achieve whatever it is that we call success. I was just another potential criminal and was treated as such.
Would this have happened if I were the son of a US Senator or State Assembly member? Or the son of a CEO? I can only imagine if this had happened on 3rd ave below 96th Street that they would have done some kind of research as to the residents of the unit in question, and if it were someone "important", the situation would have been handled with much more care.
I'm seriously considering editing this and sending it to my senator, congressman, and City Counsel person. It seems to me that these agents were just doing their jobs and that the main problem is with the procedures and protocol of this federal agency (not the agents' conduct). Not that anything tangible will happen or even that the government officials will respond, but at least it will be brought to the attention of people with power that this is the type of thing that's going on under their watch. And it's definitely going on on a regular basis. This type of needless distress for upstanding citizens with no criminal records is absolutely unacceptable.
God, that's depressing. For something more lighthearted, click here to read about my 25th birthday party.
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9 comments:
I think you should send it in. And thank you for sharing this story. How distressing it must've been! I'm just glad you came out of it okay and that it didn't take any of the unfortunate turns that it could've taken thanks to the high-stress and volatile situations law enforcement agents find themselves working under.
So what prompted the reincarnate of this story? I like the line; “...just another nigger." Its true but this is only a fact in tense situations where fear of the unknown is at hand otherwise you are humanized into society. So whether you’re a "greaseball, wetback, spic, mic, nigger or any other colorful euphemism which is used to describe fellow humans because of cultural ignorance, it is an element of fear which prompts a defensive posture. I do think that police work desensitizes those who do it to humanity. We as a society should demand that the men and women who do it only do it for a hard specific time, I think no more than eight or ten years; this is the ugliest job our society has. One were humans confront the ugly underbelly of society on a daily basis.
You're right. I should. I'm not because I doubt anything will come of it. But in principle, I should.
I remembered I had it written up the day it happened. I took it down because my roommate had looked into taking legal action, but he ended up dropping it.
I really wish you would contact the media. It's outrageous that the authorities are allowed to burst into someone's home at 7:00 in the morning, with guns loaded, and make these kinds of accusations. However, if you ever decide to write to your senator, I would advise you not to mention your GPA or your school or your job. It makes it sound like a broke guy without a diploma would deserve this kind of treatment. I think it's wrong, no matter who you are.
That is certainly a perspective one could have.
PS, you're assuming I wasn't broke... or am not currently #thankyouamex
Kareem - you were clearly treated inappropriately by ATF officers looking for suspects while you were innocent and unrelated to the case. I don't want to play that down. But...
The blog entry you wrote above is full of racial overtones, while you don't write anything that suggests the officers treated you any differently because you were black, spoke in a Dominican accent, or have name that's nearly unspellable.
What bothers me is why in your mind's narrative, as a black man your hands needed to be above the covers any more than a white man in the same situation - or as a gay man why it would be any more awkward if you had a boy in your bed than a straight man with a girl. "Just another nigger" is your interpretation of a situation that you can't fairly compare to what would have gone down if you weren't.
Would this have gone down differently if you were on Park Ave? Probably in some ways. I was once visited by police at 3am in a hotel in the center of town that cost $500/night. The hotel manager gave me 20 seconds notice by phone before the police arrived banging at the door - but I guess you didn't have a doorman.
I see your point. And it's a possibility that most NYC police officers treat everyone the same no matter what their perception of them is.
However, I've seen reports on a disturbing number of unarmed black men getting gunned down by the NYPD in the 6 years I've moved here. Maybe it happens to white guys, too, and the news just doesn't cover it.
But from the information I've gathered from the time I've lived here, black and Latin men have the hardest time with the NYPD. And even if it's because there are more black men breaking the law, you'd have a hard time convincing me that that doesn't affect how many NYPD officers enter into a situation dealing with a black or Latin man.
So yes, in a city where racial profiling still happens... where black men I know personally get stopped, detained and even handcuffed because they "fit the description"... where I wouldn't dare to wipe my nose while stopped by police in fear of some rookie (or experienced officer) thinking I'm reaching for a gun (in light of the unarmed shootings)... I'm going to be a bit more fearful, and I'm going to think that race plays a role in how law enforcement deals with me.
Odds are against me because of others' perceptions of black people. It's something my parents taught me, and something I've seen play out in the world around me. I grew up being told that I would be judged more harshly because I was black. The "black tax", if you will. It applies to dealing with the police (from what I remember, arrest and detainment numbers are much higher among blacks and Latins, even when they weren't doing anything wrong). And maybe that sounds like I'm victimizing myself to you, but I really don't have to prove it to you for it to be a real thing that affects me and millions of black men every day. A vast majority of black men would probably say the same. In fact, when I told my brother about this, he was like, "Well, now you know. Welcome to being a black man."
Also, in response to your calling out my interpretation of a situation I can't fairly compare to what would have gone down if I weren't black: I don't think anyone can fairly judge a situation from a perspective that's not their own. I may be tainted by my experience when I use the term "just another nigger", but who IS equipped to see that situation in a "fair" and "unbiased" light? Are you? And more importantly, does this mean I shouldn't comment on it? Something about that just doesn't seem right to me.
As for the gay thing, it was more just being caught in a sexual situation when I wrote it. It just so happens that my sexual situations are with other men. But the last thing I need is to be in the cross-hairs of a homophobic guy's gun.
And the hotel situation that you mentioned sucks! I guess law enforcement makes more mistakes than I thought.
Agreed. I guess I fall on the side of hoping that it's getting better than when your mother was our age. And that police are stupid and arrogant and treat everybody terribly in the name of their own safety - I have enough experience as a white guy with police arrogance for a lifetime.
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