I’m a black doctor. My neighbors called the cops on me for listening to Biggie.
By Mary Branch
I cannot prove that this was an act based on bias. But in studying and practicing medicine, I have developed skills in pattern recognition. They are well adapted to making a diagnosis of racism.
After that incident, I could not sleep for a few nights, because of how hurt I felt. Having a policeman approach and confront me left me feeling embarrassed, humiliated and powerless. I felt like an unwanted outsider in a community of which I thought I was a member.
Not long ago, two African American gentlemen were arrested in a Starbucks in Philadelphia while simply waiting for a colleague; I understand how fearful and helpless they must have felt. Then there was the woman wrestled to the floor by police at a Waffle House; I can relate to her likely feelings of anger mixed with submission. These scenarios aren’t new, nor are the emotions they stir up in us. As people of color, we’ve learned to present ourselves in an assimilated manner to shield ourselves from overpolicing. The poet Paul Laurence Dunbar described it best: “We wear the mask that grins and lies.”
https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/my-white-neighbors-called-the-cops-on-me-for-listening-to-hip-hop/2018/05/28/54930d04-4fbe-11e8-af46-b1d6dc0d9bfe_story.html?noredirect=on&utm_term=.364456acb582&wpisrc=nl_most&wpmm=1
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