Fit the Description

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The story of how the police harassed me 11 times.

Transcript of Fit the Description

How to get harassed by the police 11 times and live to talk about itOk, who do I look like?Some people say I have my moms cheeks and my dads smile.The police say I look like a rapist.They said I look like a drug dealer. I fit the descriptionA gang member.And last week, a bank robber.I've been harassed by the police 11 times and counting. Never once was I doing anything wrong or suspicious.They put their hands in my underwear searching for drugs.They put me in handcuffs during my lunch break. Parents grabbed their children and ran.Here's something they always do. They ask for ID. Then when I reach for my wallet they yell at me to keep my hands up.My introduction to the police left an impression. Three officers stood in my kitchen and said: "Next time we'll beat you up before we bring you in." I was 15.But age has never mattered. The cops harassed me when I was a teenager, during my college years, in my 20s to my 30s.They harassed me on my way from work, and to work, on my way from a bible discussion, on my way to school.They harassed me when I was in a rich neighborhood and a poor neighborhood. When I was in a big city and a small city.The police harrassed me at midnight in a park. And summer time on a crowded street.Heres another thing they do. After they search and find nothing. They let me go and explain that I fit the description. I always fit the description.When I was young I fit the description. And last week on Thursday at 1:30PM I fit the description. Ive had a bald head, dreads, cornrows, and an afro. No matter how I change my hair, I always fit the description.Ive been dressed for work, dressed for church, and dressed to hang out and I still fit the description.Ive weighed a lot. And weighed less. Ive lived in an apartment and a home. Ive been single and married. Ive been a disciple of Christ and an atheist. No matter what I do. What I believe. Where I go. How much I make. What I give. How I change. How I serve. To the police I always fit the description. Im always a suspect.I never talk back because Ive seen what they do. But when they said I attacked a girl, I wish I told them Ive been celibate since 17, since the day I got saved. The next time Id kiss a girl was my wedding day.When they searched me for drugs I wish Id told them Ive never even smoked a cigarette. And I have a vow that if I ever get drunk Ill give up alcohol altogether.When they called me and my brother gang bangers I wish Id told tell them my brother rescued a teen from a gang by teaching him about Jesus.When they handcuffed me for robbing a bank I wish God told them that I give to Him and charity every week.And when they pointed a gun at me, I wish I told them that I already died to my sins.The police should make me an ally. Instead theyve labeled me an enemy. The police should promote me as an example. Instead they try to make an example out of me.The police should protect me from terrorists. Instead, for 2 decades, across 2 states, theyve terrorized me.11 times Ive come this close to losing my life or liberty.I wonder though - if the police are bold enough to loudly claim I fit the description, how many others have quietly said the opposite?Did I not fit the description to my suspicious professor claimed me paper was a forgery because the writing was too good?Did I not fit the description to the recruiter who wouldnt send me to that fortune 500 company because she said I wouldnt have fun there?The first 10 times the police harrassed me I stayed silent. And when I saw America take notice of men like me getting shot, I stayed quietier.I was afraid of the description others would fit me into if I shared my opinion.Would my managers see me as angy? Would my ministers say i was concerned with worldy matters?But my heroes made America America by risking their own reputations and giving their lives. I dont have hate or fear. Because no officer has a say in my destiny.And now, because of 11, Im telling my story so they no longer have a say in my identity.?