How has my unconscious privilege and going to jail altered my life trajectory?
I'm going to share a story from my past that very few people have ever heard.
It's the most dark moment of my life. And it's clear to me that if I wasn't white, I could be dead or my life could have been ruined.
But because I'm white, particularly a white male born in the United States, almost no one has ever heard what I'm about to share and it's had virtual no external impact on my life whatsoever.
It starts as many of the stories from this time of my life begin... I had consumed a tremendous amount of alcohol.
Many of the actual details are lost to me or hazy at best, so I'll only share the facts that I know with certainty and pieces that were later discovered.
In February 2005, I was arrested in New Orleans during Mardi Gras.
I've never considered the impact of my privilege regarding the events in New Orleans up until these past few days. I've long known that I benefit from my privilege each and every single day, but it's mostly felt intangible and unconcious. I know it's there, but I can't actually comprehend what life would be like if I weren't a straight, white male living in the US so I just go about my day.
There's something about these past few days though that felt like too much. "Really? In the middle of a global pandemic with so much pain and suffering, we're still going to be racist murders. We're still going to tell people they don't belong or call the cops knowing what that means. Really?" And I guess that's part of my privilege that I thought that somehow there's an off switch. Like it isn't happening right now because there's other things happening in the world.
Here's a story of my privilege and how the entire trajectory of my life could be so drastically different if it weren't for the color of my skin.
When I said I was arrested during Mardi Gras, it's easy to pass that off as being a drunk college kid charged for drinking in public when everyone is drinking in public. That's the story that I used, and it worked. But that's not what actually happened.
I was arrested for public intoxication, resisting arrest and assaulting an officer(s).
I was so drunk that it's unclear what actually went down, but here's what I pieced together.
I drank myself into a blackout state. Not uncommon for me at that time. I was wandering Bourbon Street at night by myself. It was incredibly crowded in the streets, obviously. Cars were trying to get through, but weren't really moving.
I ended up on the hood of a car (don't know if I was pushed, fell, or jumped on there myself).
Next thing I recall, I was fully restrained, face down and pepper sprayed.
I was put into the back seat of a normal civilian car, which just so happened to belong to the hood that I had landed on. The owner of this vehicle was an off duty cop who was out with another off duty cop enjoying themselves during the festivities like the rest of us. They were on their way home for the night when I happen to land on their car.
At this point, I realized I there was significant blood flowing from my head and nose and I couldn't do anything to stop it because my hands were handcuffed behind me. My level of intoxication transformed into, FUCK, this isn't good and I need to figure out a way to get myself out of this.
During my long ride in the back of their car on my way to the hospital, I was able to piece together more of what happened. As it turns out, the one off duty officer was actually really nice, and we talked at length about how we were both terrible surfers and our brothers were much better than us. I was certain at this point that I could talk my way out of this. That turned out not to be the case.
Here's what I came to understand about what happened.
When I landed on their hood, these two men got out of the car and attempted to restrain me. I was not interested in any part of that. They said they identified themselves as officers and were wearing their badges around their necks, but they were also in plain clothes, in a civilian car and had mountains of beads around their necks. It was also so loud that I either didn't hear them say they were officers or didn't care. I fought back. They kicked my ass. My head appear to be dragged along pavement, glasses broken, nose bleeding, and a lot of pepper spray into the mouth, eyes and nose.
There's a tremendous story in itself about the next 20 hours that I spent in the Orleans Parish Prison, which is ranked as one of the 10 worst prisons in the country. I'll save that for another time as it's not relevant right now, but share that I watched the Fat Tuesday parades on the community TV with the other prisoners who were in there for a long time.
When I appeared before the judge to face my sentencing, I was able to get the resisting arrest and assaulting an officer charges dropped.
After college when I had to have a background check to get my Series 7 license to work at an international bank, I brushed off the incident as being arrested during Mardi Gras for public intoxication. Everyone drinks in public, I said. They agreed.
To be perfectly clear, I hold no resentment towards those officers who whooped on me. I was too intoxicated to have any idea what actually happened. The amount of force that was used could have absolutely been warrented. In my situation. But so many others weren't so lucky to walk away with only their pride being hurt or some head injuries that heal in a few weeks.
As I sit here today, thinking about how people who were born with the same color skin as me get away with murder and ruin the lives of people who don't have the same color skin as me, recalling this story helps me begin to understand a tiny fraction of the privilege I have directly benefited from.
Could I have been killed as a result of landing on that hood? Certainly black people have been murdered for less. Would that judge have dropped those other charges if I weren't white? Who knows. Would my employer have agreed to write off that arrest? Maybe.
But maybe not.
The fact that I'm able to sit here and tell this story about my privilege from my living room couch, healthy and with food on my table during a global pandemic, feels like a blessing that I did little to deserve. I was born to two white parents in the United States during the greatest time to be alive. My hood incident had virtually no negative impact on where I am today, and yet there are countless examples of people's lives being completely devastated for so much less. There is so much of my privilege that I'm oblivious to and am doing my best to become more self-aware each and every day.
I will continue to use my voice and my actions to help those who weren't born into such privilege. And even though I feel like whatever I do will never be enough in this regard, I will continue be a friend, an ally, a brother, a business partner and a supporter wherever I can to stand shoulder to shoulder as we fix a broken system together.