In December 2017, as I was completing my graduate studies and approaching the final weeks of my pregnancy, I made a legal right turn on red. Almost immediately, I noticed flashing blue lights behind me. Assuming I had inadvertently committed a traffic violation, I pulled over.
The officer approached my vehicle, asking for my license and registration, then proceeded to interrogate me about my presence in the area. I explained I was on my way to my internship, but he continued to question my motives, focusing on why I was there, given my license was from a nearby city. My instinct was to respond sarcastically, remarking that cars are designed to travel from one location to another. However, I didn’t feel safe enough to joke; I was alone on the side of the road, my large, pregnant belly prominently visible beneath my dress.
To my shock, he accused me of being in the area to purchase drugs. When I pointed out my obvious pregnancy, he dismissively replied, “Pregnant people smoke crack all the time.” My blood boiled at that statement. I have never used drugs, nor do I drink. How could someone sworn to protect the community justify harassing a visibly pregnant woman?
He ignored my protests, viewing them as mere excuses. In his mind, I was a stereotype—a Black woman in a predominantly white neighborhood, presumed to be seeking illegal substances instead of pursuing my education. I had done nothing wrong, and he eventually let me go, but I can’t help but wonder if his decision would have changed had his dash cam not been recording.
As I drove to my internship, he followed closely behind, parking and waiting for me to enter the building. The absurdity of the situation struck me; I found myself searching for any reason that could explain his behavior that didn’t involve race. I didn’t want it to be about race.
We often hope that our experiences are not racially motivated. If it were my speech or driving that caused his suspicion, I could change those. But race is an immutable aspect of who I am. A colleague, a kind and deeply caring woman, rushed to confront the officer, her face flushed with anger. She told me it was because I was Black. I brushed it off, assuring her I was fine, but inside, I felt anything but fine. Once again, I was reminded that I didn’t quite belong in the country of my birth.
This isn’t a new experience for me. Some days, I muster the energy to speak up, while other times it feels safer to remain silent. It shouldn’t be this way—no one’s safety should hinge on their ability to appease others.
If you’re looking for more insights, check out our other blog post that dives deeper into these issues here. For those interested in fertility options, Make a Mom offers excellent resources, as does Healthline for pregnancy information.
Here are some related queries that may interest you:
- What is racial profiling?
- How to handle police encounters?
- Understanding implicit bias in law enforcement
- How to stay safe during a traffic stop?
- Resources for pregnant women facing discrimination
In summary, my experience of being racially profiled while pregnant highlights systemic issues within law enforcement and societal perceptions. Despite my qualifications and intentions, I was subjected to harmful stereotypes, leaving me with feelings of alienation and hurt in a place I should feel safe.
Keyphrase: Racial profiling during pregnancy
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