“My friend and I were walking home from watching live music, and two police officers approached us. We weren’t being loud. We weren’t drunk. But they told my friend they needed to search him. They told us they were looking for a 5’10” black male, which happens to be the description of most men in this neighborhood. So that’s an excuse to search every black male who walks down the street. And that’s not right. My friend was a flight attendant. He had a college degree. He was wearing a button down collared shirt. He tried to ask, ‘Why?’ But I told him to be quiet. I told him to do as he was told. Because I didn’t want to escalate. I didn’t want the guns to come out. I didn’t want him to be another hashtag. So they emptied his pockets, they patted him down, and they let him go. And I was so mad afterward. Because I’m very pro-black. I go to protests. I’m in a black sorority. But in that moment I couldn’t speak, because I was too afraid of what might happen.”
