Dear Officer,
It has taken me quite some time to articulate my thoughts about our brief interaction back in April 2009. For years, I felt a sense of embarrassment and kept quiet, initially believing I was somehow at fault. However, I’ve come to understand that the true issue lay beyond my actions, and likely aligns with an uncomfortable reality we both recognize.
Let us revisit that night. I was in my early thirties, a Southern Asian woman with a clean driving record, and distinctly brown skin — something you may recall amidst your many encounters that evening. I had just left a lingerie fashion show with a friend and felt elated. Unfortunately, the rain had left the roads slick, making visibility difficult as I approached my usual exit. I spotted road flares ahead, and, thinking they indicated caution or a blocked street, I proceeded carefully.
As I neared the exit, it became clear it was closed. I attempted to merge, but the glare of the wet pavement and the rush of other cars made it too late; I found myself behind a squad car. I remember you looking furious as you approached. You asked me, “What are you doing here?”
There seems to be a discrepancy in the police report about my response. I said, “I didn’t realize the exit was closed,” yet your report claims I replied, “I don’t know.” It’s disheartening to think that you might have misrepresented our exchange. You ran my license and, upon finding no infractions, you informed me that I would receive a ticket in the mail and instructed me to move past the two vehicles in front of me.
While I was relieved that your demeanor softened, I intended to contest the ticket, wanting to clarify how I ended up in your scene. I believed that everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt, as we all make mistakes, right? I called the county office repeatedly, waiting for the ticket to arrive. When it did, I was shocked to discover it contained a criminal court summons with three misdemeanor charges: Careless Driving, Failing to Yield to an Emergency Vehicle, and Passing through Two Emergency Vehicles.
Let me remind you of a few crucial details: I approached the scene cautiously, yielded as best as I could, and you instructed me to pass through. This felt like entrapment. I had a clean record, was sober, and acted with no intent to disrupt. Our interaction lasted no more than five minutes.
Why did you choose to charge me? That question continues to haunt me, and the implications of the answer are deeply unsettling.
Your actions forced me to spend my summer in court alongside an attorney. Upon arriving, I noticed a troubling pattern: many defendants shared my background. I witnessed individuals facing jail time over minor offenses, including a pregnant woman dealing with severe repercussions for not having an insurance card. It was alarming.
Fortunately, I could afford legal representation, and all criminal charges against me were dismissed. However, I was compelled to plead guilty to a lesser offense. Many do not have the same privilege of knowledge or resources. Too often, your victims, conditioned to feel powerless, accept deals out of fear.
I have to give you some credit: that summer, you unwittingly prompted me to confront my identity and the challenges faced by those in marginalized communities. Your actions awakened a resolve within me that I never knew existed. By the end of that summer, I was appointed as a Civil Rights Commissioner, a position I took on to combat discrimination against those from protected classes. Instead of breaking me, you propelled me to advocate for others facing similar injustices.
I wish you had afforded me the same humanity that night, recognizing my worth as a brown individual. Nevertheless, I forgive you. This experience has fueled my growth into a strong advocate for others, and I hope that if our paths cross again, I will be able to demonstrate how true justice can be served.
With resolve,
Your Unlikely Advocate