The electric crackle of a Taser split the afternoon silence as a white police officer pressed the weapon against the waist of a beautiful Black woman standing beside her luxury SUV on a lonely Alabama highway. Her body jerked against the vehicle, her oversized leopard-print coat shifting as a sharp cry escaped her lips.
Another officer tightened his grip around her shoulder, forcing her backward while the first leaned so close that she could feel his breath against her face. Neither man noticed the three black SUVs appearing around the distant bend, and neither understood that the woman they were humiliating had spent nearly two decades commanding people who would never have tolerated the behavior unfolding on that gravel shoulder.
โStop fighting!โ the first officer shouted, although the woman had both hands raised and was making no attempt to strike him.
โI'm not fighting you!โ she gasped, her voice trembling from the pain. โGet that thing away from me!โ
The officer laughed, his face flushed with anger and excitement. He was a muscular white man in his early thirties, with short brown hair, a square jaw, and the aggressive confidence of someone accustomed to frightening people into obedience. His black police uniform stretched tightly across his shoulders, and the Taser in his right hand continued producing small electrical arcs. He looked toward his older partner, who was holding the woman against the SUV, and smiled as though the entire confrontation were an entertaining lesson.
โSee that?โ he said. โAll that fancy clothing, and she still doesn't know how to follow simple instructions.โ
The woman gritted her teeth. Beneath her enormous black visor sunglasses, her eyes remained fixed on the younger officer's face, studying every movement. Her full-length brown-and-black leopard-print coat had slipped from one shoulder, exposing the collar of an expensive black silk blouse, while her tailored black trousers and pointed designer heels were covered with pale roadside dust. A massive structured black leather handbag with polished gold hardware hung from her left forearm, its straps pulling against her skin as the older officer shoved her toward the vehicle.
โLet go of my shoulder,โ she said, forcing each word through clenched teeth. โYou have no legal reason to restrain me.โ
The older officer, a white man in his early forties with short light-brown hair and a stern expression, tightened his hold.