I was loading up my groceries that I BOUGHT into my car when a patrol car stopped right in front of mine. Initially, I thought it was my husband who saw me and stopped for a quick chat. It wasn't him... It was a young white police officer who started questioning me as if I were some criminal.
Before I knew it, he accused me of stealing and handcuffed me. I tried to explain myself, but he wouldn't listen. So, I cooperated, knowing that my husband (the sheriff) was about to have a field day with this rookie.
As I sat in the back of his patrol car, I looked him straight in the eye. "Did you arrest me because I’m black?" I asked, my voice low but firm. He smirked back at me, shaking his head. "Using the race card, huh?" he replied arrogantly. I leaned back, mentally noting his dismissive tone. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right about all this. The tension in the car was palpable.