Astynomiaphobia

I used to hate the police. I was conditioned to be no other way. When I was growing up running from the police was just what you did. There didn't have to be a reason, you see the police, you run. And I saw the police everyday. There is a police station less than two blocks from where I grew up. You would think that having a police station in the neighborhood would change the way the community felt about the police. It didn't. In fact, it reenforced all the fears we were taught. I hated the police!

As I got older, my casual interactions with the police became more direct. I had what some call a lead foot. I couldn't go the speed limit to save my life! I would guess I got 12 tickets before the age of 23. Each time I got pulled over I was never sure what was going to happen. Once I got pulled over and the cop asked for my license. I reach into my back pocket for my wallet and he grabs his gun and screams, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I just sat there frozen in position, my arm still behind my back, hand touching the top of my wallet. I finally found the words to say I was getting my license per his request, but he still didn't take his hand off his gun. That was the last time I carried ANYTHING in my back pocket.

Not all my brush with the law resulted in negative outcomes. I was working nights loading packages on trucks while attending school in the day. I overslept one winter's night and was running late for work. I parked on the street and it was cold that night. I didn't have time to heat the car up, I just jumped in a drove. I wasn't thinking so I cranked the heat all the way up before the car was warm, so my windows fogged up. I could barely see the road in front of me, but I pressed on not wanting to be late for work. I get down the road a bit and glance in my mirror to see the dreaded flashing lights behind me. The cop walks over to my car and asked me where I am going in such a rush. I explained that I was late for work. He takes my license and goes back to his car. I sit there waiting and waiting for him to return with the ticket. It seemed like he was going to sit there all night. After a while he walks back up to my window and hands me my license. He says to me, "Now that your windows are clear, drive to work safely." No ticket, he just sat there long enough for my car to warm up and defrost the windows.

I recently started attending a small church that is just getting started. The pastor is a police officer. This made me extremely uncomfortable at first. But one day as I sat listening to this man a revelation hit me. My hated of police is just like a bigots hatred of black people. I am just like the people that say to me, black people are....but not you, you're different. We are ALL different!

Why has it taken me so long to realize that overly obvious fact! We are all different. How can I say I hate the police? If there is ONE good cop, then I can't say I hate the police. I know from experience that there are bad cops. But I also know, from experience, there are not just good cops, but great cops. My cousin is a GREAT cop! But, he never counted in my blanket hatred because he was family. The guys I went to school with who became police officers didn't count either. It was all the OTHER cops I hated, not them. Wow, how crazy it was for me to hang on to a belief that I didn't even believe.

Now I am trying to take inventory of all the other things/people that I am lumping together in a group. Like lawyers, who doesn't hate lawyers, right? Until you need one, that is, then they are great. I am going to make a conscious effort to approach everyone as a different person. I am going to stop predetermining how I feel about someone based on some label they may be attached. I will finally heed the wise council of Dr. Martin Luther King and judge a person by the content of their character and nothing more. I feel better already!

FIRST!

FIRST!

Here I go, y'all! My first attempt at putting my thoughts into words. I must admit, I'm a little excited right now! I have wanted to do this for years and I can't really say what was holding me back. Yes, I can, but I don't really want to. I don't see the sense in doing this if I can't even start out being honest with myself. I haven't done this until now because of fear and laziness. Oh, I have about a thousand other "reasons", but it all boils down to those two.

Fear is a word that I hate to associate to myself. The crazy part about it is that I spent the majority of my life being afraid. I would mask it the best I could with anger, indifference, or (my favorite) fake self-esteem. Truth is, I didn't really like who I was. I'm sure I'll get more into that in other post, but for right now I want to focus on my First. The fear I have in writing this blog is that I don't think I can write. Hopefully, practice will make perfect (or at least help me improve.)

The laziness part is almost self explanatory. I don't own up to it by saying things like, "I'm too busy with work and family to do anything else!" But I do plenty of other thing (also for another post.) I just don't want to take the time to really put myself out there. I would rather just stare into space, lost in my own head. If I spent half the time writing as I do thinking about writing, I would be on my way to a Pulitzer by now. That's a heck of a stretch, but you get my point.

But as of right now, all that is behind me! I like to start my cover letters with a saying that I hope makes people think of me as philosophic, "Every journey begins with a single step, this is mine." HOW COOL IS THAT?!