A Taxicab Confession for a Post-Ferguson America

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I had just finished a conversation with a local reporter comparing the events in Ferguson, Missouri with the disproportionate arrests of black people in Shreveport, Louisiana, for nonviolent offenses, when I noticed the driver had taken an interest in my phone call.
Perhaps embarrassed because it revealed how closely he was paying attention to the conversation, he asked me whether my job involved dealing with discrimination. When I told him “yes,” and that I worked for the American Civil Liberties Union, a very different kind of taxicab confession began on my way to the airport — one that I wish more white Americans could have heard.
The driver, a middle-aged black man, described frequent interactions with police in which he felt he was treated disrespectfully and charged with traffic offenses he did not commit. He would plead his case, but it didn’t matter. He was driving while black. He described the unwanted attention he received when his family was the only black family in a park in a white neighborhood. Despite making sure his family was always well-dressed on these outings, the stares came nonetheless, because there are some things you cannot change. He described the fear that he felt for his son and the need to give him “the talk” about how to behave when dealing with police, the bitter lesson that all black parents — no matter how wealthy they are and where they live — feel compelled to give their sons.
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