By Dennis Henderson, M.Ed., ACLU of Pennsylvania Client
Growing up in a public housing complex, my friends and I were conditioned to run when we saw a patrol car coming our way.
Between the ages of 6 and 10, we weren’t breaking any laws while walking home from school or playing in our neighborhood, but we knew we’re supposed to run when we saw a police car.
Every now and then, one would sneak up on us. Shock, anxiety, and fear would grip us. During those times, we just stood still not knowing how to respond while the patrolling officers drove past us slowly staring us down with a look of suspicion.
Between the ages of 11 and13, I figured that I shouldn’t have to run from the police if I didn’t do anything wrong. I stopped running. Looking back, I stopped at a good age, because that’s when the police started chasing. Many of my friends were caught and placed in the juvenile to prison pipeline system for reasons that would be considered “typical adolescent male behavior,” if they were from white middle class families.
Because of the detainment of many of my peers and witnessing the arrest of many of the adults in my neighborhood, as a teenager I still retained the emotions of anxiety and fear when encountered by a police officer.
It was also during this time that I encountered great mentors that taught me black history. I was educated about numerous African Americans who contributed their work, ideas, talents and lives to enrich the quality of life for all Americans.
While in college and as a young adult, I learned that in 1619, Africans were brought to the shores of North America in bondage, recognized as only 3/5th of a person under the ensuing U.S. Constitution, and subsequently, the Supreme Court unanimously ruled blacks had no rights in the Dred Scott decision.
Today, as an adult, I now mentor youth. As a middle school history teacher, I share with them what I’ve learned and teach them that the very same Constitution that restricted our rights eventually outlawed slavery and granted full citizenship and equal rights! So I thought.
On June 26, 2013, while standing next to my truck exchanging contact information with another individual, a police car sped across the intersection towards us. We assumed he was responding to a call, however, as he got closer, the patrol car continued to veer closer to where we were standing. As he passed, both of us pressed ourselves against my truck to avoid being struck by the police car.
His actions were unprovoked and shocking. The officer then made an abrupt u-turn and came back to enquire if I had a problem with what he did. I had no reason to run.
Now educated about my constitutional rights, I was no longer afraid. I choose to exercise my rights by requesting his name and badge number. This request prompted him to get out his car and demand our IDs. Concerned for my safety because of his erratic behavior and questionable intentions, I informed him that I was documenting the remainder of our conversation on my smart phone. He told me I had no rights to record him.
At that moment I realized that he didn’t agree with me having the audacity to believe I had rights [Dred Scott Decision].
He used his car to endanger me and treated me with no dignity or respect during our encounter [3/5th of a person].
I was handcuffed, slammed to the ground, arrested and locked in a cell [since 1619].
According to a recent article published in the “Crime &Delinquency” journal, a study indicated nearly 50 per cent of black males are arrested before the age of 23. I have no doubt that at least half of those arrests were unwarranted such as mine.
A harsh reminder as to why we used to run when we saw a patrol car coming our way.
Dennis Henderson is a middle school teacher at Manchester Academic Charter School in Pittsburgh. Read more about Mr. Henderson’s case
This post is part of a series in honor of Black History Month.