Police Interrupted

First written September 21, 2014 by Enchanta Jackson

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​​I put him on speaker phone so he could spit poetry to me while I painted my nails.

His voice was deep and serene.

The words he spit caught my spirit like the sun on a Sunday.

I felt myself smiling and chuckling as my thoughts ran along side his metaphors.

And then I hear,

“Excuse me sir, are you a student?”

My smirk faded

I was too familiar with that tone

A police officer who was really asking,

“What is your black self doing here??”

I listened on the other end as my poetry spitting, cool brother was caught off guard.

Confused.

Standing outside of his university library, he explained he was just on the phone and was a student.

The police told him to hang up and requested his student ID.

Still confused,

my calm, smooth, word flowing brother couldn’t comprehend.

Why didn’t the librarian just tell him he was being too loud?

Why would they call the police

On him

A student

Just standing outside of the library

A student

Talking on the phone

A student

Tatted while black

Spitting beautiful words of poetry?

I sat on the other end of the phone.

Blood was boiling,

fingernail polish dripping.

The brother told me he’d call me back

I waited

Those 5 minutes felt like an hour

I waited

and wondered

Is he ok?

If he resists…

Would he be able to finish studying?

Will his professor understand why he’s not going to make it to class on Monday?

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Will he be seen as a slacker?

I waited

If he complies…

Will his sense of manhood weaken?

Will he feel less human?

Will he know he is beautiful and complete regardless of how he reacts?

Finally

He called me back

He was ok

Didnt want to talk about it.

Rushed off the phone to meet up for his group study.

I, however, am still here

Painting my nails

Wondering just how in the hell my brothers do this shit every day

Rage, Joy, Love, Repeat

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