Age 19, police officer confronts me telling me I fit the description of a burglar in the neighborhood. I was walking back to my college dorm room after a late night of work off campus.
Age 21, while in a small campus store, the manager comes after me accusing me of stealing a peppermint patty candy bar. I was the only black student in the store with many other students.
Age 28, news room assistant editor stands up and yells at me telling me to “behave.” I was the only black person in the news department and I had just returned from doing work that was not part of my assignment.
Age 31, one of my employees accuses me of threatening her with a box cutter. I was coaching and training her.
Age 32, one of my employees, at a different job, but same company, accuses me of mismanagement. I was asking him to do his job and complete given tasks.
Age 37, traffic officer lies in court telling the judge she didn’t tell me about how most people don’t see the sign. I was parked in an unmarked parking space.
Age 38, human resources manager comes to me and another coworker, crying, saying I called her a racist. I had told her that her disparaging comments of an black employee’s hair was borderline racist.
Age 46, my boss makes all kinds of accusations about residents of southeast D.C. and calls 2016 election protestors criminals. I called him out on his comments.
Age 48, a woman tells police officers I threatened her life. I was jogging through my neighborhood when she accosted and blocked me from jogging.
All these accusations and attacks happened to me throughout the course of my life, and all these accusations and attacks came from white men and woman. If only Trayvon Martin, Ahmaud Arbery, etc. was as fortunate as me.
