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  • Writer's pictureDarcie @ Leighton Lane


Updated: May 30, 2020

I am white.

And I was forcibly knocked to the ground by three grown white men. They were cops.

I am a woman.

And I still remember when the back of my head hit the ground. Hard.

I am a good mom.

And my wrists were handcuffed behind my back.

I live comfortably in a nice community. Not poor, not rich – but comfortable.

And my ankles were handcuffed.

I’m college educated.

And they tightened the handcuffs so much that my left wrist bled. I have tiny wrists. I also still have a scar.

I’m a good wife.

And the handcuffs left scars on my ankles and right wrist. They have disappeared.

Did I mention that I am white, Caucasian? Did I mention that the cops were also white?

And they held me down. But at some point, there was no more pain.

I’m a good person.

And bad things happen to good people. All of the time.

I wasn’t caught stealing anything. I wasn’t strung out on drugs. I hadn’t hurt anyone or ever threatened.

All of this was due to a medical condition that sprung up out of nowhere, completely out of my control. It’s called psychosis and it happened two months postpartum. Granted I understand the gravity of the condition I was in, but no doubt excessive force was used. I’m no body builder and there was just one of me. My escort to the ambulance twenty feet from me was rather harsh.

And traumatizing.

I was never asked if they could talk to me. I was not asked to voluntarily get in the ambulance so I could get the care I needed. I wasn’t even asked my name before I hit the ground.

I came around the corner of my house. One cop grabbed my right arm, the other man my left arm and then the third grabbed my legs. And my head hit the ground. I was handcuffed and subdued. Flipped over with my face in the ground, Injected with meds and lifted into the ambulance.

Then the paramedic held my hand. He talked to me. He asked me what I needed. He brushed the hair from my face. He drowned me in compassion.

I suffered with PTSD for a while. I couldn’t stand to look at the front yard. I wanted to move. The sound of an ambulance siren made me cringe. I never did get the names of the cops or the name of the paramedic. I didn’t want them. I remember the driver was Michael, because the EMT kept asking for an ETA.

My incident wasn’t caught on video. At least I hope not for the policemen’s sake. I mean it would be embarrassing for them to realize they needed three to take down my Herculean self. (It’s a joke. I can laugh about it too.)

I know one of the cops apologized to a family member. It was an uncle of a friend of a family member. Someone I didn’t know. He said he didn’t understand the situation. Had he known, he would have handled it differently.

There’s a lot of situations we wish were handled differently. A lot!

I’ve seen a lot of articles lately. Everyone from recipe bloggers, pastors, celebs, and politicians have weighed in on the horrific crimes caught on videos recently.

There was a loss of lives. And those lives matter. I’m not here to negate that.

Honestly, I didn’t want to write about this. I usually steer clear of politics, news or current events in my writing. I’m sure most people are compassionate and they do write compelling words with good intent, but I feel a lot of people feed the fire for clicks. I know that sounds awful, but it’s true.

I never intended to tell this part of my story. It was something I’d rather forget. And tears puddled on the keyboard as I typed the first part. In order to tell a story well, you have to relive the story. And well that was a tough day to relive.

The recent videos were tough to watch and there were tears too. I’m not here to take away credibility from the atrocities caught on tape. I’m not going to tell you to wait until the whole story has surfaced.

What I saw was inhumane and unnecessary, no matter the offense.

I really didn’t want to write this. Then I started reading all of the articles. The two cents thrown into the fire, because we can no longer sit by idly. So we will write the words “black” “white” and “racist” over and over.

We will feed the fire.

Many articles start with the words, “I am white” or “I am black.”

That’s why I started this post with those words. It’s a great attention grabber. How about “I am a person – with a soul – and a conscience?”

We will tell people to rise up and wake up.

But we offer no solutions, except to share the post. If you don’t speak up, you are part of the problem.

Do you know how many times I share Amber Alerts or posts about child slavery? I only ever see a handful of friends who share those posts.

Maybe it’s just the Facebook algorithms. Maybe I just miss their posts.

Maybe they don’t like to see hard things. It’s their right.

We will question our own racism?

One author said she thinks she is racist because she had locked her doors when a black man walked up to her car with her young daughter inside, in a sketchy area. She questioned whether she would have the same reaction had it been a white man.

I lock my car doors even with a white granny walking by on a sunny day. Even if it’s my Mom. Just kidding. Maybe not, depending on what I just did.

It’s not fear for me, it is called vigilance.

Evil doesn’t discriminate. We live in a world full of hate. God is my protector. And wisdom is one of my shields.

Many articles will grossly project the actions of the perpetrators onto a class of people based on the color of their uniform.

We’ve created a new race called “blue.” We now insist wearing the color blue means you have the tendency to be an inhumane racist and could care less about the lives of another race – even if you are of the other race.

We vilify them.

We stereotype.

I get it. There are bad cops – really bad cops. There are also good cops that believe in the oath to protect and serve. Just like there are good ministers and bad ones. There are good politicians and bad politicians. Good parents and really bad parents…

You get it.

We forget about the good ones though. We forget many of them have children just like we do. And I hate to think how the kids feel when they read words of hate thrown towards their moms or dads.

Many articles will grossly project the actions of the perpetrators onto a class of people based on the color of their skin.

You are responsible for your actions and the actions of your children until they move out, not matter your color. You are not responsible for what your ancestors did before you were born.

We can’t make a positive change (together) if we continually look to the past. You can never heal from trauma unless you learn to move forward.


I am responsible for making a positive generational change and understanding. That’s why I instill good values and beliefs as I raise my sons. And I conduct my actions as the best example for them.

Many insist their fears are greater and different because of the color of their skin, their son’s skin.

I get it. Not only is police brutality an issue, but also the racial profiling – the stereotyping.

Your fears are rational and extremely valid. I am in no way diminishing them.

But let me introduce another class of people. They are called ignorant. The Bible calls them fools and they are mentioned over and over. In current times they are called dumbasses and man are they increasing at a faster rate than any other race in the country.

No one is immune to them.

You know what I fear? I have sons too. I fear drugs. Drugs are a common denominator of many of the senseless crimes you see. Drugs put you in bad places with bad people. Drugs do crazy things to your brain influencing you to do things you would never do sober.

Drugs create desperation.

And well desperation breeds evil.

Drugs don’t care about the color of your skin as long as you have veins, a mouth or a nose. And money.

Drugs kill every day.

You know who else does racial profiling? Human traffickers. A red headed, green eyed virgin will bring in $300 grand. They might not get as much for a smuggled Ecuadorian five year old boy, but he’s easier to procure. His parents sold him.

This isn’t just some third world problem, the United States has the biggest demand for sexual slavery. The traffickers are good though. They are usually not caught on tape. People simply disappear every day. This is why my kids don’t play outside alone.

You know what I fear? Probably a fear that pertains only to me. What if my boys inherit my disease? It’s not just postpartum, it’s inherited from my father. Psychosis looks like you are overdosing on drugs.

What if I wasn’t there to explain what is happening and get them the help needed? They will be stronger than me. Their outcome might not be the same as mine.

We all fear something.

It’s how you handle fear that makes all the difference.

Many People have accused others of Privilege for Not Sharing the Story – The Hard Things

“What are you afraid of?” I’ve read those words countless times in recent days.

Nothing. I share hard things all the time. There’s not enough time in the day to share every hard story. I don’t suggest you Google sexual slavery or police brutality in general. Not to mention the genocides, persecutions and terrorist attacks that happen daily.

I don’t expect others to apologize for bad things out of their control.

I don’t expect everyone to take up the same cause or share the same opinion as me.

I don’t expect everyone to share hard things.

There’s not enough time in the day.

But I also expect, okay wish, others would not make assumptions because of something a person did or did not share.

A friend once told me, “You can’t expect others to be like you.” Boy, did that change my perspective.

Some people have incited violence.

It started this past week. The violent protests and now the arson, looting and complete anarchy overtaking the city of Minneapolis. There’s also videos coming from Los Angeles, New York and Memphis.

There’s even a video of a lady in a mobilized scooter being attacked at the looted Target in Minneapolis. The police precinct has been burned to the ground.

But many of my friends and the authors of the original posts haven’t shared these stories.

Am I to assume their silence means they condone this violent retribution?

I’m just going to assume that they haven’t heard about it yet or maybe they are at a loss for words.

Maybe they are just busy. I get busy.

They also have the privilege to post what they want.

I believe in justice. That’s what the justice system is there to do. I know it’s not always the result we want or in the timeframe we wish, but we have to leave the frayed ends for the King of Justice.

I believe in peaceful protesting like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. led.

I believe in life giving words like the Dr. used. He spoke words that pierced your heart and convicted your soul.

I’m at a loss trying to figure out how stealing a flat screen TV or lighting a store on fire rectifies the loss of a human life. If anything, it cheapens it.

It’s called revenge, not justice.

And it results in the loss of more lives.

Most of the posts are shared from a place of hurt.

And with the hurt, we post and comment hurtful things. Even to people we have loved and who have been a part of our lives for a long time. We sever friendships and family ties from a place of hurt.

We misunderstand someone’s words or his silence.

I understand pain, hurting, and confusion.

It took me a long time to heal from a place of hurt. Even with Jesus by my side. It took me a long time to share my story.

Again, I really didn’t want to write about any of this. I’m banking on my Mom being the only one to read it.

But God put a message in my heart. He told me to find the “David” within me and pick up a rock, really my keyboard. And then the message flooded my mind until the words poured out on the screen.

He simply said,


We are being distracted.

Was racism involved? Pretty much undoubtedly.

Is racism alive today? Of course. Racism in some form or another has existed since the beginning of time in all parts of the world. It's still awful. It's still hate.

We create more racism from a place of hurt.

But what is the root of racism? Evil.

And we are being so distracted by a color of evil, that we forget evil is colorblind. And so is good. Good is colorblind too.


Was aggression involved? A power trip?

Yes, absolutely.

But what is the root of aggression and abuse of power? Evil.


We are being distracted by the greatest Distractor of all time.

He has us hurling rocks.

And words.

It’s easier to get us to destroy each other.

He is the root of Evil.

C.S. Lewis called him “the Bent one.”

He’s really good at bending the truth.

The truth is, it’s a Good verses Evil thing.

It’s the Righteous verses the Unrighteous.

It’s the Oppressed verses the Oppressors.

It’s the Just verses the Unjust.

It’s the Light verses the Dark.

It’s a Love verses Hate thing.

That’s why the great Dr. MLK Jr. said, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”

Love and Hate are the only two races that exist.

Agree or disagree.

I spoke up.

With love.

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