I had to take a week off because I needed a mental break. The recent focus of the entire nation being on racial injustice is great, but how we got to this point was traumatic.

A young black man was killed by two white men for “suspiciously” running in a neighborhood (#AhmaudArbery), a young black woman was mistakenly killed by officers as she slept in her home (#BreonnaTaylor), and the world watched footage of a black man who was pinned down by an officer’s knee as that officer euphorically saw life leaving the man’s body (#GeorgeFloyd).

These were back-to-back news events involving the murder of African Americans.

And as if murder is not tragic enough, it’s being done quite comfortably at the hands of the people that our own tax dollars pay to serve and protect.

Remember when an officer entered the wrong apartment and shot a young black man as he was eating ice cream in his own residence (#BothamJean)? What about when a black woman was shot by an officer in her own home while she played video games with her nephew (#AtatianaJefferson)?

The list goes on and on. Hashtag after hashtag is created, and we barely get to mourn one person before another life is tragically taken away from us.

Until now.

George Floyd was the straw that broke the camel’s back. What you’re witnessing isn’t a crowd of people rallying around one case. It’s an outcry of people demanding accountability and proper punishment when black lives are taken.

There has been more than enough evidence that proves that when an officer in particular kills a black person, the punishment is either nonexistent or terribly lax.

Each slap on the wrist is a slap in the face to the African American community.

Where did this deterioration of trust between black people and the police begin?

Rather than diving into a history lesson, I’ll tell you firsthand. For me, it started at a very young age. 👧🏾

I grew up in Prince George’s County, Maryland, which is predominately black. There was a white officer who patrolled our apartments almost daily. He’d stroll by in his vehicle and stop to talk to different children. I later found out that he was borderline harassing them.

“What are you kids doing out?”

“You guys look up to no good.”

“How about you guys break up and go home.”

So, every time that officer would come around, I saw people wanting to run away from him than coming to him for help.

One day, the officer made his usually rounds through the neighborhood. He stopped his car on the other end of my street. I wasn’t really paying attention to him until I heard a girl screaming my name.

“Hope! Hope! Ain’t that your brother? Look!”

When I looked up, I heard anger in my brother’s voice. He was walking with a couple of his friends, and I heard him ask to be left alone. The officer didn’t oblige. 👮‍♂️

“You do this every day! Stop! We’re not even doing anything! We’re literally walking.”

My brother’s a calm person, so the tone of his voice already had my 8-year-old self on edge.

And before I could make out what was happening, the officer got in his car, revved the engine and went what seemed as full throttle toward my brother.

My brother banged the hood of the car to stop it. 🙅🏾‍♂️

“What are you doing?! You’re trying to kill me?” 

I have NO clue what happened after that. All I know is that my brother was trying to peacefully leave the scene, and I saw myself running to the end of the street toward the officer as he got out of his vehicle. 🏃🏾‍♀️

“Get off my brother! What are you doing?”

I screamed, pushed and did whatever I could to let this officer know that he was messing with the wrong third-grader’s brother.

The officer brushed me off, got back into his car and drove away.

Later that evening, I went home and asked my brother what happened.

“I didn’t do anything. I never do. Officer Randy’s just racist. Everyone knows it. He goes around looking for the black kids to start trouble.” 

That was my first encounter with a police officer who was out in the community.

Let me be very clear. I know some amazing policemen and policewomen who do their job with the utmost integrity. I’m not against the entire occupation.

There are some bad apples in the bunch, though, and to not call them out is just perpetuating the problem.

I think what people fail to realize is that we are seeing the worst-case scenarios on the news. The killings, the brutality, the outlandish harassment and egregious profiling—that’s what makes the headlines.

But there are so many more micro-events and occurrences that African Americans experience. Each one slowly chips away at the trust for the people in blue.

A casual drive through an upper-class neighborhood leads to an unwarranted pullover. Driving a fancier car turns into a stop because you failed to signal exactly 250 feet before the turn. A stop for speeding escalates into a full-blown interrogation about drug intake. Minding your business while walking in broad daylight is now reason to ask about your whereabouts.

It’s so common that it’s something that is taught to black children by their parents. 👂🏾

“Son, make sure you take your hood off and don’t play your music too loud. I don’t need you getting stopped. I need you to come home alive.”

That’s our reality.

To some people—not all people—black skin is a weapon. They’re intimidated by our very being, looking for a reason to validate their preconceived notions.

There are so many racial biases that emerge from it. 

Why is a black child with a hoodie on more intimidating than any other race? Why is loud hip-hop music alarming, but blasting country music will likely get a “Whoooo!” as people sing along to the lyrics?

It’s the little things we experience in our daily lives that later turn into much greater issues. And if you’ve never experienced it, you really wouldn’t understand.

I’ll save my other stories for this week’s video. I’ll share a few more unfortunate incidents I had with police officers in college, and the pivotal encounter that I had with one officer who allowed me to see that great police officers do exist.

Plus, I’ll dive more into racial biases, injustices, and things people don’t realize that black people have to endure—simply because of the skin they’re in.

Friday’s video may be a long one. Get your snacks ready! 🍫