Vanessa Chambers-Stewart | Contributor
Featured image | Courtesy of Pexels
I’d tell you my name but you probably won’t remember. There are various reasons for that, but I’d rather avoid that conversation. I decided to write this to bring awareness to those of us who are still blind to the world we live in. I also wrote this for my friend Reuben. I haven’t heard from him in years but there are reasons for that. I hope that he’s lived a very good life and was able to enjoy his youth.
I.
My parents always told me that Reuben and I got along really well. So they weren’t surprised when Reuben and I were around each other all the time. Even as children if we ever did get into a disagreement, it was always over within a matter of minutes. I never saw it as anything. I just figured we were two young boys who wanted to play video games and eat junk food all day.
I wasn’t naïve, but I think I was in denial. It was the summer time; Reuben and I were excited about going off to middle school. We’d finally be able to walk and not have our parents drop us off in the mornings. Reuben and I walked to the convenience store. I remained outside. As I wiped my forehead on my T-shirt, a tall White man appeared in the distance. He was leaning against a dark blue Buick and had a toothpick in his mouth. I paid him no mind and continued standing under the shade.
I hear the bell ring over the door as Reuben barges out.
“Here, I got you one too.”
I look at Reuben and then the freezy in his hand.
“So now my shirt is gonna be dirty.”
Reuben laughs and replies: “I saw you wipe sweat on your shirt…who cares, just take the freezy!”
“HEY!!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING OVER THERE?”
I could already see that this man was going to be trouble. But poor Reuben, he didn’t understand.
Reuben shouts back: “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?”
The tall White man yells: “DON’T YOU KNOW THEY CAUSE A LOT OF TROUBLE? YOU BETTER RUN ALONG BEFORE YOU FIND YOURSELF IN SHIT!”
Reuben looks at me and shrugs his shoulders. I jump onto my bike and begin leading the way.
The tall White man answers back: “A YOUNG MAN LIKE YOU SHOULDN’T BE HANGING AROUND A BOY LIKE THAT!”
Here is where I saw the issues of our skin. I can say that being a Black person in this world leaves you with little-to-no-options on how to feel about race situations. Being too calm makes you look oblivious and/or in denial, while displays of anger only feed into what they expect. What options are we left with?
II.
Reuben and I were now in high school, and we didn’t miss any action. I did well in sports and was always asked to return, but my heart was in fixing things. Reuben, on the other hand, wasn’t the best in sports, but made teams because of his wealthy parents. It still worked out well for the both of us; I got the benefits of a funded team and Reuben got to experience first-class treatment. Everyone came out a winner, and we enjoyed it.
‘Joy Ride’
It was the summer Reuben and I graduated from high school. His parents bought him a green 1999 Mercedes-Benz-E-Class. I was even happier when he insisted he take me out for a drive. Like I said, Reuben and I were always close. Despite his family being wealthy, Reuben got the emotional attachment from my family. Both of our parents respected each other and we all enjoyed each other’s company.
Reuben and I were driving down Neffe’s avenue when I saw the sirens flashing in the rearview mirror. Reuben pulls over and asks me: “Did I do anything wrong?”
I shake my head.
The police officer exits the cruiser and walks over to Reuben’s door. Reuben rolls down his window and asks: “Hi officer, do you mind telling us why you’ve pulled us over? I was watching my speed limit and my tail lights work.”
The police officer doesn’t say a word but I can feel him looking at me. I continue looking straight ahead. “Let me see your driver’s licence.”
Reuben is oblivious to what is happening right in front of him. As he pulls out his wallet, the officer sticks his head in the window and asks: “Where were you two headed?”
Reuben answers, “Oh we’re just testing out my new car. My parents bought this for me.”
The police officer ignores Reuben and points his pen at me.“What’s your name, boy?”
I remember my parents’ voice in my head. They’ve already warned me about this, and even though it’s wrong, they said that I should always be respectful. Before I can open my mouth, the officer interrupts: “So do you have a car of your own?”
I shake my head and answer: “No sir, I do not have a car of my own.”
The officer removes his head from the window and walks over to my side of the car. Reuben looks confused and pulls out his cellphone. “If I’m the driver, then why are you questioning him, officer?”
The officer ignores him and taps on the glass for me to roll down the window.
“So you’re saying that you don’t own a car of your own…then how do I know that you aren’t going to steal your friend’s car? How do I even know this is your friend? Maybe there’s a gun in the car and you’re holding him hostage until I leave.”
Reuben begins to get annoyed and interjects.
“Officer, what you’re doing isn’t the law, and I will ensure my dad will have your badge.”
I ignore both of them and answer the accusations as calmly as I can.
“There is no gun in the car and he is my friend. He offered me the ride and I decided to take it.”
“You ever been arrested, boy?”
I reply: “No, I haven’t been arrested.”
The police officer answers back: “You must be one of the lucky ones.”
Reuben interrupts again: “Officer I just want to let you know that I’ve warned you, and I will now be calling our lawyer.”
The officer leans into the car again, but this time smiles at Reuben.“Now why are you gonna go and do that? I’m just talking to your friend here…we’re all adults now.”
Reuben ignores the officer. “You leave me no choice.”
The officer makes eye contact with me and doesn’t smile.
“So where do you live?”
“I live not too far from here, officer.”
“Do you have any kids?”
“No, I do not have any children.”
“Are you married?”
“No, I’m not married.”
The officer removes his head from the car and begins stretching. Reuben calls his dad’s office and tells his secretary where we’re located.
I overhear the officer say: “Your people don’t believe in marriage, but you people multiply at a rapid rate. It amazes me.”
The officer takes out his notepad and begins writing down the licence plate. He removes his sunglasses and looks at me.
“I’m going to run the info on the car. Don’t move.”
As the officer walks back to his cruiser, Reuben and I sit in silence. I can’t describe how I feel but I know it’s nothing good. I just continue to play my parents’ voice in my head because I know that if I say the wrong thing, this officer will definitely put me behind bars.
Twenty minutes later, Reuben’s dad arrives with his lawyer. Reuben’s dad approaches our car and the lawyer approaches the cruiser. Blake is a successful public relations representative and spoiled Reuben with gifts. He’s a lot older than Reuben’s mom, but you could tell that he really loved her. He was dressed in a tailored brown suit and had his grey hairs freshly trimmed each week.
“Are you guys okay?”
Reuben speaks for the both of us: “That cop is an asshole. He’s been interrogating us for almost thirty minutes.”
Blake scratches his beard and pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket. He motions Reuben to pass him a pen. “It’s assholes like this that make our country a living hell.”
The lawyer walks back over to us and hands us a card. “This isn’t over. Just wanted to let you guys know that if this ever happens again to contact me—”
The rest of the conversation becomes a blur to me. What does he mean by this isn’t over? What about if this happens again? The question is…will this random stop ever happen with Reuben in his car by himself or with his group of White friends? This was just a chapter in Reuben’s life, but this is and always will be my life. This wasn’t my choice, but I knew that Reuben would never be able to understand. A good lawyer isn’t the issue, it’s my skin.
Reuben’s dad drives behind us. When Reuben pulls into my driveway, I don’t have much to say.
He asks: “Tomorrow?”
I reply:“Bet.”
As I leave the car, I tell myself that this is the last time I’ll see Reuben. He and I don’t see colour, but the world we live in does. His skin is politically correct, while mine is urban and cool. We’re on the same side instead of playing against each other; to them we shouldn’t have anything in common. To them, this picture doesn’t make sense. Reuben will always be identified as a White man first, and I will always be his unanswered boy.
