Several years ago I was stopped by a Seattle police officer.
He said I had a tail light out.
I already knew that because my turn signals were telling me via the highly escalated pulse rate that occurs when your tail ight is out.
I just hadn’t had time – it had occurred in the current “driving experience” – to get the bulb replaced.
Then the officer asked me for my proof of insurance card.
I keep that in the glove compartment.
I keep the glove compartment locked.
The key for my car is one of those big plastic contrivances that you push into a hole on the dash and electronic stuff tells the car to do your bidding.
Like adjusting the seat and steering wheel to your chosen positions.
And it also has a little metal key imbedded in it.
That key does several things.
One of them is to unlock the glove compartment.
So I pulled the little key out of the plastic master key, and …
“Oh that’s OK sir; I am sure you have insurance” came from the cop.
He was black.
I was appalled.
But he didn’t shoot me.
I really want all my not privileged white brethren to read this and think about this and realize how subtle is their privilege.,