conflict.

i don't mind admitting that i don't live in the nicest area of town. all that stuff you hear on the news about indianapolis having one of its highest homicide rates in years, that's true. that rash of homicides late in the summer, pretty much every murder that's occured since july, most of that happened within a few blocks of my house. i can't walk alone down washington street without someone trying to buy me for sex. so, yeah, it's not the best part of indy. but i can say that with a sort of pride about the neighborhood - it's a pretty good place to be. demographically fascinating, and i rarely feel unsafe. i choose to be here.

i also don't mind admitting that my limbs are often thick with white guilt. a lot of my ambitions are informed by my sense of injustice; i know very well that my life has been relatively easy at least in part because i was born middle class and white in the united states.

tonight, i got pulled over, driving on 10th street. it was utterly surreal. i knew i hadn't done anything wrong. full stop at the stop sign, the speedometer carefully set at 30. normally getting pulled over would have me in full panic mode, but i honestly could not think of a single thing for which i could be in trouble.

the flashlight in my eyes, he asked how i was doing and asked for my driver's license. once i handed it over, he said, "did you know you have a license plate light out?"

"no, sir," i told him, my hands glued to 10 and 2.

"did you even know you had license plate lights?"

i laughed involuntarily. "not necessarily."

he trained the light on my driver's license. "you still live at this address?"

"no."

"what's your current address?"

i told him. he chewed on his lip. "that's just a few blocks from here, huh?"

i nodded.

then he said, "honestly, ma'am, this is just one of those things. try to get your light fixed as soon as you can. you know this dirtbag neighborhood. we'll pull anyone over for pretty much anything we can, just to check them out, make sure things are safe. that's the way it is around here."

i nodded again, dumbly this time, unsure how to react to this.

"you're legit," he told me. "drive safe, have a good night."

as i drove off, i considered all the ways in which i was offended. basically, i'd been pulled over for driving on 10th street. and basically, i'd been let go for being a cute, friendly white girl.

my relief was balanced by my outrage. i'm legit? i'm freaking legit? can you tell that from my driver's license? or was it my nice coat, the laptop on the front seat, my not being black, or hispanic, in a neighborhood known for violence?

i felt like i'd been unwillingly involved in a conspiracy. obviously, i was not going to say, "please go ahead and give me a ticket in the name of justice, officer." but there was a sense of assumed complacency that has driven me consistently crazier in the three hours since.

this is part of the problem, you know. i pass flashing sedans nearly every day in this neighborhood. the person cuffed on the curb is invariably male and invariably black. circumstance drives neccessity. neccessity drives crime. complacency, it drives circumstance. i'm (not)proud to say i've become an implicit part of the cycle.

i know he was just doing his job. i know that the area is under heavy patrol, and i know that every routine traffic stop has to be nerve wracking. that walk up to the car, not knowing what face you'll see once the window is rolled down. i'm sure my pink cheeks and kid bangs were a relief in the beam from that maglite. i appreciate that they're doing everything they can to keep the neighborhood safe.

still, if i were moving to ky tomorrow, tonight i would welcome the anticipation of a scenery change.