A FORUM FOR COMMUNITY ISSUES : Youth / OPINION : Not everybody who looks Latino and wears loose shirts and pants is a punk.

This past summer, my brother and some of my friends and I were leaving a party in East Los Angeles. It was about midnight on a Saturday night. We were supposed to meet my mother at a Jack-In-The-Box at Brooklyn Avenue and Mott Street. But it was closed, so we waited outside.

A police car that had followed us from the party pulled over and an officer got out and headed toward us. Although we were doing nothing wrong, I was prepared for a confrontation. In Explorers, a teen anti-crime program run by the Los Angeles Police Department, I learned that when approached by an officer, the most important rule was not to talk back and to never run. You should assume that they’re always right and that you’re always wrong. Running away causes officers to become suspicious and upset.

The officer approached us from behind. Without saying anything, he grabbed one of my friends by the hand. He said, “Son, how old are you?” My friend answered that he was 15, and the officer told him that he was under arrest for breaking curfew. When he took out a pair of handcuffs, my friend protested. The officer twisted his arm. At this, my brother and the rest of my friends got scared and took off running.

When I saw that this made the officer angrier, I told him that I was responsible for all of my friends because I was the oldest. With that, he let go of my friend’s arm. He ran away, too, leaving me alone with the officer. The officer asked how old I was. I said 18. I gave him my name and address. I told him about the party and that my mother was coming to pick us up. He asked me where I lived. I said in South-Central.

He responded by saying, “Well, punks like you destroy this part of society.” I told him that I wasn’t a punk, and he put his face, nose to nose, in mine and said, “Well, I’m calling you a punk.” I began to get upset and said, “Just because I’m dressed like this you’re calling me a punk?” and he said yes.

At this point, a group of Latinos who appeared to be in their 30s came out of a party across the street and started yelling, “Let him go!” and “He didn’t do anything!” I thought, “No, please, not another riot.” I tried to walk away, but the officer grabbed my arm and began to call for backup. Less than a minute later, a second police car had arrived with two more officers. The first officer handcuffed me, saying that I was a threat to his life, and we got into the second police car. As we drove down Brooklyn to the station, we passed my mom driving toward the Jack-In-The-Box. I told the officers, and they seemed surprised that I’d been telling the truth.

When the officer who had stopped us talked to my mother, his tone changed. He told her that he would drop charges because I didn’t run or lie and that he was sorry for causing problems but that I should stay off the streets at night. He didn’t mention how he had talked to me. Meanwhile, lights from police helicopters searched out my brother and our friends. They had been hiding in an alley.

I don’t blame police officers for doing their jobs; they come in contact with so many criminals, gang problems and stressful situations that it’s natural for them to be wary. However, they need to be more careful in judging people.

It’s often impossible to tell the difference between an innocent person and a criminal at first sight; while an innocent person may be judged to be dangerous for their clothing, a criminal could look perfectly clean. The most important thing is that police officers should not make assumptions about someone’s guilt or innocence before finding out the truth.

Not everybody who looks Latino and wears loose shirts and pants is a punk. There is still quite a way to go before our rights are fully respected.