First let me say this post is not intended to minimize the struggle of people of color, or make the argument that white privilege is somehow a disadvantage, quite the opposite. Being white myself, my general philosophy on the subject is to keep quiet and support others who have more to bring to the conversation than I do. In this case, however I believe this story is relevant.

I grew up in an upper-middle-class neighborhood. In the sixth grade, I became friends with a kid on my basketball team I’ll call Andy. Andy had a rebellious spirit that drew me to him, being a 12 year old kid myself. Andy listened to heavy metal, played guitar, and seemed to have chip on his shoulder. Andy’s family was a little more well off than mine, so the fact that he had all the best Nintendo games didn’t hurt either. Andy’s father had worked his way to to up to CFO of a large company.

As Andy got older, I began to see that his mean-streak wasn’t just the usual adolescent defiance, but that he in fact had a self-destructive personality. He would party hard, drive like he was invincible, and occasionally got into physical altercations. Partly as a result, I drifted apart from him. In high school, his family moved out of state to New Orleans for his father’s new job, and we went to different colleges. I did go and visit him once over the summer when he was home from college, and it was then that I saw how well off his family had become. His house was similar to a large gated house you might see in the Garden District.

While I was there he relayed a story to me... He was driving with his girl friend and they were either high or drunk (or both) , and there was more in the car (I don’t remember every detail as it was 20 years ago, but he would have been about 20 years old at the time). When he saw the flashing lights in the rear-view mirror, he thought the better choice was see if he could get away rather than pull over and face possible arrest. After a high speed chase through the streets of New Orleans, he realized he wasn’t going to get away and eventually pulled over and gave up. I don’t know the particulars of how he was treated at the scene, but I feel like if he had been forcibly slammed to the ground or over the hood of his car he would have mentioned that detail. Instead, according to his story, the police simply drove him home, and handed him over to his father after explaining what had happened. No arrest, no charges were filed, not even a speeding ticket. That wasn’t the only time he had had run-ins with police either, but he had never been arrested to my knowledge. After that visit, we fell out of touch.

Several years later, a mutual friend sent me a link to a news story about Andy. He had been driving at high speed at night and wrapped his car around a tree killing himself in the process, thankfully he was alone in the car, and no one else was involved. I couldn’t believe it, but at the same time I wasn’t surprised either. I saw this story earlier today about Neil DeGrasse Tyson being stopped by police at least a dozen times, seemingly just for being black, and it made me think about my life growing up and how different my experience has been compared to people of color. It was then that it occurred to me the irony that if Andy’s license had been suspended, maybe things would have turned out differently for him.

I’m sure most police officers think they are doing the right thing when they make a decision to let someone off or throw the book at them, but how can anyone really know what consequence would be best for the individual or society at large? It seems consistency in how the laws are applied is the best we can work towards.