Pgh Lesbian Correspondents

I really wanted to participate in a No Kings rally today. But I was afraid.

For 22 months, I’ve coped with the traumas of my interactions with police during and following the fraudulent involuntary civil commitment authorized by Allegheny County OBH on Sunday, August 27, 2023.

The police failed me that day and on ensuing days when my rights conflicted with their allegiances. I’ve described it before.

Handcuffs actually create a divide in your body, separating the left from right so they cannot work together – to disorient us, to create imbalance, to prevent us from being our whole human selves in that moment when we are simply things to be secured. The level of trust we place in who gets to decide when and where to forcibly handcuff someone without consent should require great care.

I had a sobering conversation with my two Black teen nephews about the experience, both of whom were clearly appalled. It chills my blood to think of either of them enduring this, especially as they would not be afforded the “perks” I received as a middle aged white woman. I mentioned this and one burst out in disbelief “But it wasn’t even legal, how you can you say they treated you well?” He was quivering with indignation on my behalf. It was a sobering conversation because we all knew that I had done everything right but still ended up handcuffed in the back of a police SUV.

But of course they failed me. What I hadn’t realized is how they’ve always failed me, with my privilege keeping the scales on my eyes. It has been humiliating to realize how much I’ve capitulated to a police state. I am ashamed of that and of my failure to see it until it happened to me. Classic white guilt awakening.

I am working on this.

When I was 302d and then kept homeless for 196 days, I repeatedly sought help from Zone One, the Public Safety Director, and others. Some of the individuals involved treated me fine in that interaction. There were small kindnesses. But they were always in the shadow of the guns on their hips, and the fact that over half the time, they refused to help me. And I was powerless.

Powerless. The law was on my side, but I was still powerless.

I shouldn’t be grateful when a police officer is courteous, professional, and helpful. I shouldn’t feel relieved that I was heard. I shouldn’t be unsurprised when I get the bare minimum. When I have to carefully plan my request for help. I shouldn’t be unphased when the detectives don’t call back or send me some random text instead of calling me.

I shouldn’t wonder if the officer beats their spouse or covers for a partner who beats their spouse.  Or speaks up about excessive use of force.

Or might read this and retaliate if they detain me. I wish that was a paranoid thought.

My situation has been like the spouse of an ADA or ACDC leader seeking help. The power is not with us. The corruption of politics seeps between branches of government, rendering help pointless. I would never willingly call 911 again. I mean I would if someone were hurt, but I’d expect nothing except they put out the flames and take down the names. It doesn’t matter what is actually happening in my interpersonal situation – the cops have perceptions and that’s what matters.

When I experienced a situation of being doxxed and threatened in the fall, the police barely took my report and I only filed it with great reluctance at the insistence of my lawyer. You know who showed up? Folx from the anti-fascist community who appreciated that being doxxed by Stormfront is serious. A death threat is serious. So they offered to help me craft a safety plan, simply stayed in touch with me to offer reassurance, asked what I needed, occasionally drove by my home and provided exactly what I needed. They know I take risks by speaking up and out so they stand with me. They showed up for me.

The police? After I filed the report, I got one text message that I suspected was spam.

I have no idea what this new perspective means for me. I do have a clear idea that the trauma of being handcuffed, chained inside a cruiser, lied to by the officers, etc has left an indelible mark. I won’t put myself in a situation with police for fear that I’d have a trauma reaction and end up in custody for being mentally ill.

I shouldn’t have to fear a traffic stop could lead to that.

I have amends to make for my ignorance, but first I have to heal myself. I don’t want to just numb myself. Exposure therapy isn’t a good option. I don’t want to have a positive relationship with people who did so much damage to me – I get that from my family. I just don’t want to flinch and relinquish control if I’m forced to interact.

I also skipped the Pgh Dyke March because I had no buddy to help me navigate the inevitable police presence.

I do want to be brave and stand up, to put myself between vulnerable people and unlawful enforcement.

But every time I see a cruiser or a uniformed officer or hear a siren, my entire body freezes. Yes, I flash back to that particular day, but I also think of the many ensuing contacts with Zone One. The rudeness, the contempt, even the attempt to force me back into another police car. The cop who shone a spotlight on me one evening when I was getting set up for a yard sale.

None of that was benign. It is very much still unprocessed in my mind and body, but it’s also proof that they are already doing it to us – to white middle class everyday Americans. Not criminals, not predators – although we make up most of those folx, too. We thought we were safe, but that’s simply not true. Hiring vigilante bounty hunters to catch undocumented human beings with a price on their head is an extension of law enforcement that shoots children, suffocates people in custody, profiles drivers, protects their own no matter their behavior, and so forth.

I was detained under a warrant without due process. I was lied to about the detention. handcuffed, and left to rot in a broken mental health system. I was liberated because of my friends and my therapist. I’ve spent the ensuing 22 months struggling with a legal system that simply does not value justice or fairness.

Understand – the violation of due process by (County) government and the violation of my rights by the police are happening to ‘us’ – to middle class white folx. It is not the same as the violations experienced by people of color especially immigrants without documentation. But it is not as different as we might falsely believe. Or hope.

If you think you are safe from the violence and violations playing out in the streets right now, you are a fool. I was a fool because I thought I was relatively safe from unnlawful enforcement of most laws. I didn’t listen and I deeply regret that. To be fair, I couldn’t have prevented anything that went down that day, no matter my attitude or outlook. But maybe if I had been less caught off guard, it wouldn’t have done as much damage. No, that’s not right. This was done to me.

The defensive crouch of those in charge only serves to prove my point. Go read the federal docket public documents to see what your local government thinks about due process. What they say to the public doesn’t necessarily line up with what they say in court.

I don’t imagine I’ll be showing up publicly anytime soon. I hope you do.

Don’t show up because it could happen to you, show up because it is happening to all of us.