I was pregnant and on the way home from a Lamaze class. My son's father time was driving us at the time. We were pulled over. I can't remember the reason behind why, maybe a tail out was out. We were pulled over and asked to get out of the car. I believe another police officer showed up. Two officers searched the car. Then, we were given the okay to leave. (Ohio, USA)

I've had multiple encounters with the police. However, I always think about the time ""they"" came before dawn into my family home. My brother woke me up by running into my mom's room, which my little sister and I slept in. He said, ""go back to sleep,"" and I laid down, and he threw the covers over us. However, I heard a noise of someone that was breaking the window next to my side of the bed. And then I made eye contact with the person breaking the window. It was a man that pointed a gun to me and told me to put my hands up. And I slowly did. And then a group of them came into the door of the room. They grabbed my brother off the bed. They told me to get up, and my little sister, who was asleep, was then woken up.
We were walking down the hallway of my family home into the dining room, they have there guns pointed at us. My brother had his hands on top of his head. When we walk into the dining room, it was dark, and there was broken glass on the floor. There were so many people in black. I could see my mom standing on one side of the room with her hands up, and a gun pointed at her.
Suddenly, I heard my brother scream and trip because his barefoot stepped on the glass. However, that was the worst mistake he made. When he tripped, he bumped into one of the officers. Which the officer grabbed him tossed his 14-year body on the dining room table that was made out of glass. Three other men came and jumped on top of my brother. Simultaneously, I saw my mom try to run across the room, yelling to stop! Stop! Stop! He's only a kid! But one of them grabbed her by the back of her hair. They pulled my mom back, fell to the floor, and one officer jumped on top of her. I was yelling. I can't remember what I said, but I wanted them to listen and to stop.
An hour later, it ended, but my brother and mom were taken away. We were taken into custody until my grandmother came to pick us up. This was not the first time the swat team came to ""serve a warrant."" They tried to arrest my brother for attacking an officer, and they didn't find anything on my mom. I was 8 years old. (Compton, CA)

The day after watching an online college law lecture where both a lawyer and a cop said it is in your best interest to never talk to law enforcement without a lawyer present, I got pulled over by a cop (my first time - so odd with the timing). The cop asked me questions and I just stayed silent (but complied when they asked for my drivers license and registration). Eventually, he let me go with a warning. (San Francisco, CA (but at the time on the east coast))

They came to my house to question me about being sexually assaulted. I was young, and very scared and I sat on my bed and told them what happened. After I answered all the questions, they went back to my mom who was sitting on the couch in the living room and I could hear them telling her that they thought I was lying, and that I wanted it. I remember their shoes and the impression they left on the carpet in my room. For a long time after, I had a skewed understanding of consent. I will never be comfortable around police. I never go out of my way to be nice to them. (San Francisco, CA)

I was in my 30's at the time. I'm a white woman. I went on a date with a black man. We went out to dinner and were seated at the back of the restaurant near the kitchen. The restaurant was full but my date felt that we were put in an unappealing seat - because he was black is what he implied and or/ because he was black and I was white (maybe?). The entire evening was uncomfortable. We went back to my apartment. I talked about what happened and I think he felt that he didn't have control of the situation/the date/the evening/me (something that made him feel emasculated). He went into the kitchen, picked up my largest knife (6" or 7" blade), came back into the livingroom, picked my small dog up by the nape of her neck and told me to take off my clothes and go into the bedroom or he would slit her throat. I took my top off but didn't leave the room. He sat on the coffee table facing me and put the knife down. I picked it up, aimed it at him and told him to leave. We fought over the knife and when I realized I couldn't control it, I let go while backing up so I wouldn't get cut. As soon as he had the knife he told me to go into the bedroom again. I did. He disappeared into the kitchen and stayed there several minutes. Then he left. I immediately locked the door and called the police. In the meantime, as I waited for them, shaking, I realized there were drops of blood on the floor from the kitchen to the front door. As I was cleaning the floor with a cloth, the police came. Three or four of them. They were big, standing over me while I was wiping the drops off the floor. They said, I didn't have to do that but I said I did (for my equilibrium. I was still shaking and it gave me something to do). I explained what happened including my analysis of what it all meant (it makes me laugh now. They must have thought I was nuts). They were respectful and asked what I wanted them to do. I realized that Jerry (I think that was his name) left a clipboard with his writings on it and that it was a very important possession to him. I knew he would come back to get it. I said that to the police. They took it, it had his address in it. They asked me if I wanted them to deliver it to him. I said absolutely yes and to make sure he never came near me again. They asked me if I wanted to make a police report and I said no. That was a big mistake. I should have made a report as that might have prevented him from subjecting someone else to a similar situation. I was afraid if I made a report he might come after me but that's a mistake I will never make again. The police took the knife as evidence and they delivered the clipboard. Later that night, or perhaps the next day, Jerry called me, asked if I called the police and was I going to press charges. I said I called them and I wouldn't press charges as long as I never saw him again. I never saw him again. The interaction with the police was positive. They were understanding and nice. Postscript: A couple of months later I went to the police department to get my knife back. The cop behind the cage was surprised I wanted it back. I asked why and was told that no one ever came back for a knife. It was one of my favorite kitchen knives..... The moral of the story is always call the police when you're in trouble. But, I realize I'm a middle class white woman and the police are likely inclined to believe me. So for me, I would always call the police. All said, I've never liked the police but they are an absolutely necessary institution in society. This incident didn't make me afraid of men or of black men or anything like that. It made me think about who I chose to be with and why. Why wasn't my radar up? What happened to my generally good vibometer. There was something off about him. The signs were there but I ignored them. (Chicago, IL)