17

Like most kids, when I was in high school I didn’t let a little thing like the law stop me from experimenting with alcohol. I was a geeky introvert, and a little buzz gave me the confidence to talk to people and helped me to fit in with my crowd of fellow outcasts. A little vodka made us feel a little more cool, a little less odd. So drinking was our hobby, and being teenagers, it never really occurred to us that drinking in conjunction with driving might be dangerous. We thought we were invincible.

So it came to pass that late one Saturday night I was driving with a friend through a shopping district that had shuttered its doors many hours earlier. It was her car, but for some reason I was at the wheel. Although I was a month or two shy of my 18^th birthday, she was the legal age of 18, and had procured for us a large bottle of cheap wine. The bottle, more than half empty, was under her seat; the other half of the wine was in us.

I coasted through a yellow light before I notice the patrol car stopped at the cross street. He flipped on his lights, and I pulled over.

The cop, probably only a few years older than me, asked what we were doing in that part of town, although I’m sure he knew we were just driving, the sport of teens in small-town America. He commented, “Well, you looked like you were going a little fast through that light.”

Now, let’s be clear: I was in an area of town that I had no business being in. I was underage, I was driving drunk, and I had an open container in the front seat. I should have been scared. But I was 17, and I thought I was invincible.

I argued with him.

“I was only in second gear, so I couldn’t have been going over 25,” I huffed.

He should have busted me, but instead he backed down. “Just be careful, and watch your speed,” he said. He returned to his car, and we drove off.

From time to time, even the most responsible teens and young adults take part in behavior that is risky and even stupid—this is part of growing up, and as parents sometimes all we can do is pray that they survive their bad choices and learn from them.  But while white kids can chalk these things up to youthful indiscretion, teens of color rarely have that luxury.

As I look ahead to Lily and Lewi’s teen years, I fear particularly for Lewi, who is already confident and sassy, things that the white community hates to see in a young black man. At this point in life he is known and loved in his neighborhood, his school, and his church. But unless things change pretty dramatically, and soon, as he matures and ventures out into the world where he is not known, it is clear that he will be profiled, stopped, searched, hassled, and damaged because of the color of his skin.

For many black men, the key to self-preservation is zero resistance. They have cultivated a non-threatening stance, a compliant way of answering questions, and a submissive attitude when confronted by authorities.  It does not matter that they were doing nothing wrong, and it doesn’t matter whether the authority figure has the right to confront them, and it doesn’t matter how hostile and inappropriate the questioning. This is the price their pride must pay, and even with a calm and cooperative attitude, it is often not enough. Most African-American men (and women) do not get the chance to encounter a cop and walk away unscathed.

I wonder if I will have to encourage Lewi to be compliant, to submit to any form of white authority, and to calmly take whatever is hurled at him just so that he will he be able to walk to the store to buy Skittles.  It’s a societally approved form of bullying, and I never would have asked my other children to tolerate it. I don’t want to encourage my youngest to be a victim because of the color of his skin.

Kids who are 17 should be able to act like they are 17: a little reckless, a tiny bit defiant. They should feel invincible. Sadly, we have learned—repeatedly—that teens are not bullet proof. Today I grieve: over the tragic death of Trayvon Martin, for a nation where we allow these horrible events to continue, and for my child, who will face this all too soon. May God protect him, because I’m not sure anyone else will.