January 10, 2021
I received an interesting object lesson in white privilege today. I had just gotten the kids McDonald’s breakfast and was driving them on the highway to Dad’s for our weekend switch. A police officer was behind me for a few miles and then I saw the blue lights turn on. “Oh crap,” I thought, but pulled over knowing what I had probably done wrong – I was weaving a bit in my lane as I got the kids and I situated with their breakfasts and while eating my sandwich. I believe this is the first time my kids have been in the car with me when I have been pulled over.
I said, “Let me do the talking,” and immediately reached for my registration and license. As I began to roll down the window and put on my covid mask, I saw that the officer approaching the car was a white woman. She greeted me, was very polite and kind, and said in a friendly tone, “You had been crossing the white line for most of your drive, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Not, “Get out of the car, ma’am,” or, “Have you been drinking?” I said, “I am fine (remember, I have a blue mask covering most of my face); I was just messing around with breakfast stuff. I had my eyes on the road, and I am sorry.” Immediately she began to make excuses for my behavior, saying, “Oh, I get it” and, “Some people actually drive on the white line because they are afraid of the middle yellow line,” etc. Suddenly she said, “Oh my! You are handsome!” to my blonde-haired son in the back seat. I have never received a compliment from a police officer before, and certainly not in the middle of a citation.
I figured she would ask me to step out of the car. Or take a breathalyzer. She did not. I imagined that would be humiliating and what if someone we know saw me walking the proverbial drunk line on the side of the road. None of these things happened. She empathized with me, seemed to totally understand my condition (i.e., motherhood), and only asked for my license. Not whether the car was mine. Didn’t even check my registration. When she returned with my license, she said, “Hi sweetie” to my blonde-haired daughter, also in the back seat. “OK Allison, you are free to go.” “You guys have a great day!”
I said one last, “I’m sorry!” and went on my way.
At which point, I said to the kids, “OK here is a little race relations moment.” I explained to them how when I was pulled over, I assumed that either I had done something wrong (I knew I wasn’t speeding but I was aware of having weaved the car) or that she was going to help me in some way. I told them how white people generally see a police officer and assume the person is there to keep them safe or provide help. I explained how black and brown people, not always but often, have a very different experience in this country, seeing a police officer as a threat to their safety or as a precursor to being blamed for something they didn’t do. I told them that if an officer pulled over Christina, my partner’s very dark-skinned black daughter and her brown husband, that they would probably both feel immediately nervous and on edge. Their hands would go to the wheel or in plain sight, and they might have to justify what they were doing. [I didn’t say, the officer would probably assume she was drunk or high, or maybe had stolen the car, or was up to no good or running from something. And that Christina no doubt would have been given a breathalyzer. And if my blonde children were in the backseat with her, well….all downhill from there.]
We talked about what it is to be white in America, to be born into white privilege. “You don’t have to feel bad about it; you just need to realize you are lucky and not everyone has this same experience.” My 7-yr old son said, “I don’t want to be lucky. I want to be like everybody else.” To which I explained, it’s not that we want to receive worse treatment, or not be treated with kindness, compassion, and respect. The goal is to elevate the conditions of the black and brown person, so that they can receive the same treatment we get. ALL persons should be treated with dignity and respect, and all persons should be assumed innocent until proven guilty of something.
There is no reason a black mother, wobbling the car a bit (while remaining safely away from the yellow line) should be disciplined for helping her kids with breakfast, simply because she is black. It was nice to be given a break and to have another woman realize: this is our life as mothers. We can keep eyes on the road and drive without harming anyone while still getting straw wrappers off, opening juice boxes, unwrapping McDonald’s sandwiches, and making sure everyone has a napkin. [And if you are judging me right now, you clearly don’t have kids and have no idea what you are talking about.]
I talked with the kids about how black and brown people in America are often assumed to be doing something naughty, or running from something, or just generally, looking for trouble. When in most cases, they are just living daily life like we are. Then we talked about how several of our relatives are black or brown. Apparently, my 9 yr old daughter didn’t realize a large portion of my sister’s family is Hispanic and has brown skin. She never noticed. I take this as a hopeful sign for the future generations. We have two African-American women in the family as well. Their experiences, I would bet, are not the same as mine and their visceral responses to being pulled over by the police are not the same as mine (which was quite relaxed, if a little embarrassed).
My children, brilliant as they are, said, “Well what if the officer is brown?” I just happened to be reading about that. There were studies done that indicate that the driver, if black or brown, may feel more comfortable seeing a black or brown officer approaching the car, with a moment of, “Oh thank god it’s someone like me.” But statistically, the black or brown officer still believes that the black or brown driver is guilty of something. Even within the same race, there are prejudices that are so buried, so layered in that we don’t even realize race issues are at play in the simplest of interactions.
As we got out of the car at Dad’s, I said to my children, “The goal is that we are working toward treating ALL people the same, with respect and kindness first.” And my children are ready to carry this fight forward. It is a fight of self-awareness, then recognizing the incredible depths of our personal and collective racial biases; then working to change ourselves; then working to influence change in others.
#blacklivesmatter
