Cops have always been nice to my white ass. They drove me home safely when I was underage drinking, gave me movie tickets and gift cards when they saw me riding my bike with appropriate safety gear, were a harmless presence in my community, and have always been courteous in our professional interactions now that I’m and adult with a job that regularly puts me in contact with them. Cops are nice to me, a little white lady. Except that time I was at a protest and they shot flashbangs at me, but that was to be expected. They are nice to me when I’m not directly opposing them.

My partner is Latino and he once got tazed while trying to console his drunk (white) ex after a party because the cop saw her crying and assumed he was hurting her. His little nephew got mauled by a police dog (and his mom got injured trying to protect him) only for the local newspaper to write about how his family is a bunch of criminals while they were suing the department. He’s spent nights in jail for things that were “harmless teenage foolishness” when I did them.

Growing up, cops were friends to me and monsters to him. I had to get some theory in my brain to understand that we have differing class interests.