Survivors Guilt…

It sucks.

Early this morning, my alarm clock went off. When I realized it was Friday, January 23rd I knew I had a long day ahead of me. Social media and the news has been frantically discussing this impending snowstorm that’s hitting the east coast and Midwest this weekend, and it’s supposed to break records as they’re calling it an extreme Arctic blast. Welp, I guess that means I have to go grocery shopping and fill up my gas tank, cause we’re likely going to be snowed in this weekend. 

When I pulled into the gas station at BJs, I wasn’t surprised to see there was a long line. We’re all doing the same thing, so I get it. I also wasn’t surprised when I actually went into BJ’s and the checkout line was wrapped around the store. My shock, and devastation however, came when I was in the parking lot at Stop & Shop shortly after. 

I pulled into the parking lot, with the intention to park my car so I could enter the supermarket and get the additional things that BJs didn’t have. It was already cold at this time, so I tried to search for something close. As I came upon a close spot I was uncertain if it was indeed a parking spot because it was on the corner, and the lines on the floor that usually indicates a spot seemed to be wiped out. As I got closer to the spot however, I realized there was a faint line leftover indicating it was indeed a spot. As I was already driving at the average speed one would when they are looking for a parking spot in a parking lot, which means I was driving slow, still I checked my rearview mirror to ensure no one was behind me before slowing down further, putting on my indicator, and stopping near the spot — enough for me to reverse and position myself better to pull in. When I put my indicator on, of course indicating that I was going into the spot, and then put my car in reverse, my reverse camera showed me that two cars were pulling up behind me, one vertically behind me and one horizontally (as they likely came out of a spot adjacent to the one that I was going to park into, so I had to let them pass first.) after I let them past first, the car that was vertically behind me pushed up further closer to me — as my reverse lights and indicator are on. 

Now, this is basic parking lot knowledge and etiquette. If you see a car with its indicator on, in the direction of an open parking space, and you see them reversing, common driving sense would tell you that they are parking in that spot. But instead, the car that was vertically behind me decided it wanted to push up super close to me and not move. At this point, I still have my reverse lights on because I need them to move so I can reverse in the spot, and still have on my indicator. What do they do? They decided it was okay to PULL into the spot that I was going to take. When I saw they did that, I put my car in park and sat processing the interaction. 

That was intentional. They knew I was taking the spot, and took it. If they also wanted to go straight, there was so much room to go around me. I pondered saying something, but I decided to keep my mouth shut because a few weeks ago I read an article about how road rage turned into a fatal interaction between two drivers, and I could already tell from how that driver pulled into that spot that there was some aggression behind it. 

Boy, was my instincts correct. Shortly after they parked they got out and banged on my window, and indicated that I wind my window down. To which, I did not. I immediately felt unsafe as I saw this angry man approach my car, legit banging on my window. Thank goodness it didn’t break. I looked at him and simply said “no”. He proceeds to yell, “I’m a cop!!! Move your car now!!! I will call a tow truck right now!!” As he frantically had his phone in his hand, yelling at my window, in plain clothes (aka NOT in uniform) screaming he’s a cop. “I’m a cop.” “Im a cop.” “I’m a cop.” I replied calmly and said “okay”. And sat in my car for a minute processing this man’s many identity markers, as he approaches a calm Black woman who is in her car. White. Male. Cop. Instantly, my body shivers. Apparently, I wasn’t moving fast enough for him as my brain was processing this information. He walks to the front of my car, continues to dial frantically on his phone, and comes back to my window yelling “I’m a cop. Move your fucking car right now!! I’m calling a tow truck right fucking now. You need to listen to me!” 

“I’m a cop”. White. Male. Aggressive. Cop. My brain has fully processed the many emotions going through my body that is tied to this man’s several identity markers, and it all makes sense. I silently drive away. I found a spot furthest away from his car as possible. I attempted to go into the supermarket to get my groceries, but I couldn’t focus on what I was getting. My brain, froze, and I was unable to shop. So I returned to my car, drove to another supermarket and sat in silence. To which, I could finally find the words to express what my body was feeling. 

Aggressive. White. Male. Cop. My body felt the experience of people who look like me who have been non violent yet still had interactions with people of his kind, and those interactions have ended up deadly. To traffic stops, searches, like Breonna Taylor’s case. To walking at night, like Trayvon Martin. Emmett Till. And everything in between. The trauma that we have witnessed and felt online, the trauma that has been passed down generationally, played through my body in that moment. While I knew I was calm, and did absolutely nothing to this man, and did absolutely nothing that deserved that much rage and anger, my body knew that altercations like those sometimes don’t often end well for people that look like me. 

When I got home, I told my friends about what happened. Replies varied between “I’m so glad you’re safe.” “He probably wasn’t even a cop.” “I would’ve cursed him out.” Indeed, who knows whether he was a cop or not. But the last one got me, should I have responded differently? Should I have said more? Done more? Was my response okay? And as I grappled with these questions I realized, my response was okay, because I made it home safely. I was able to make it home. I don’t know how things would’ve ended up differently, if I defended myself by speaking up or telling him to get away from my car, or even if I told him he stole my spot from the jump — my silence made me get home safety. While it hurt, that I was silent, I can only have peace that I made it home to my family safe. 

I wish it ended there but it didn’t. It left me thinking about survivors guilt, and it also left me thinking about how we were just celebrating Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. day 4 days ago. How are we still here? And why, many years later, do these identity markers still show up and feel this way in our Black bodies?

I’m left wondering how long will we have to continue dreaming for a better day, and a more just society where people can exist and not have to feel this way and carry this weight after interactions like these? 

If you made it this far, I want to leave you with empathy. The intention to be kind to one another, and lead with peace. You may very well be the light someone needs that day.