Being a (more or less) middle-class white person my interactions with the police have been minimal, and mainly positive. I live four doors down from a police station; I see officers jaywalking across the street to the convenience store, and sometimes they’ll say hi or interact with Madeline and Gus if they’re outside while I walk past with the station. Once we called 911 because an old guy was antagonizing our neighbours’ Shih Tzus (long story). The officers who showed up were polite and helpful, and got the Shih Tzu disturber home without incident.
But you know, I don’t live in a goddamn bubble.
Tomorrow Occupy Toronto is starting. And as much as I would like to be there, I will not.
Because I don’t want to be kettled, pepper-sprayed, unjustly arrested, or held for fifteen hours without food or water. Not just for myself, though obviously I don’t want that for myself – who would? – but because I’m pregnant. Those nice boys in blue who pat Madeline’s head might be beating people with truncheons tomorrow, and I just can’t run the risk that I’m one of them.
So congratulations, Toronto Police Force! You have successfully deterred me from protesting. That’s what you wanted, right?