What is Real?

I was pulled over by the police this afternoon. Well, not exactly pulled over because I was walking along the sidewalk at the time. More specifically, I was walking home from Kroger on Wasson with two plastic bags holding kale, swiss chard, berries, and a baguette; I’d stopped at the store at the end of a lovely hour-long walk up and down and around my Hyde Park/Oakley neighborhood listening with rapt attention to my current book club book on Audible, the gorgeous And the Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini. It had been such a special and happy weekend – my best friend from high school had visited and we’d enjoyed hours & hours catching up, two fabulous downtown dinners, a couple of nice walks, and I’d hosted a very successful party featuring her and the clothing line for which she’s recently become a consultant. I had taken her to the airport earlier in the day and was enjoying my walk before I planned to make myself a quiet dinner at home and get to bed early. That was MY reality. 

However, according to the policeman who suddenly swerved his car in front of me to block oncoming traffic, I fit the description of someone who’d been reported for panhandling in Hyde Park Square:  I was female, 50-ish, 5’ 2” (I’m actually 5’ 6”, thank you very much!), and “wearing dark clothing” – just like approximately two-thirds of the population on any given day. There ensued about 15 minutes of interrogation, the arrival of two more officers in their own cars for a total of three cars and three policemen, and my utter confusion and disbelief, which of course meant that I started to cry.  “Had I been panhandling?” “Did I have a receipt for those groceries?” I answered Yes but then was barked at to not reach into my pocket for it because “I can’t see inside your pocket!” “What’s your Social Security Number? Your birthdate? Your address?” After the second officer went back into his car and confirmed that I was who I was, or at least lived where I said I did – because I didn’t have my wallet with me, just my keys and a little cash for my groceries, and of course my phone and earphones to listen to my story – they told me I was free to go.  Throughout the process, there were also a lot of statements by the officer asking me to confirm (presumably for the record – were we being recorded?) that he had not used profanity with me, that he had not drawn his firearm, that he had not made me get down on the ground, and didn’t I see that they are just doing their job, responding appropriately to a call? That since I “matched the description” and was in the general vicinity of Hyde Park Square, that it was all reasonable and sensible and even right? I just stood there shaking and crying and trying not to put my hands in my pockets or move in some other unacceptable way.

There was really no apology; I was just eventually told that I was free to go. As I walked the rest of the way home with my head down, my mind and heart were flooded with thoughts and feelings.  I felt catapulted into a parallel reality – one that as a privileged white woman I previously had just heard and read and even ranted about. What would it be like to be a young African-American man who is automatically viewed with suspicion and fear, and often treated totally unfairly and much much worse? What would it be like to be his mother or sister? I hated that our world is the way that it is. But I couldn’t really relate. After today I feel I’ve been granted a glimpse into that reality, and I knew I wanted to talk about it with people who care about me, and to write about it. 

Of course all of us are always walking around in our own realities, bumping into others’ realities, and existing in the time and space of our cultural reality, and our abilities to connect our own dots and to truly connect with others drive our happiness and success. For some reason today’s experience also brought to mind The Velveteen Rabbit, by Margery Williams. In this beautiful book, the Rabbit asks his friend the Skin Horse, “What is Real?” And the Skin Horse basically says it is about love. Love makes you real, and sometimes it hurts.  He says “It doesn’t happen all at once. You become. It takes a long time.” It is worth it!