Kai Bond

My Story = Every Black American Man’s Story I vividly remember my first encounter with racism. I was in elementary school. My mother pulled up to our house and there was a swastika painted on our front door. She quickly told me that we were getting pizza for dinner (we never went out for dinner, she cooked almost every night of my life) and sped away. That was the first of many incidents that included being intentionally excluded from my public schools advanced learning programs (which my father fought vehemently) and being heckled endlessly as I played soccer with long dreadlocks in southwestern Connecticut. I would hear the hecklers, as they called me Bob Marley, who happens to be my favorite artist, so it was actually, and very oddly, an incredibly racist compliment that I just never understood. However, it wasn’t until I turned 16 that I had my first police encounter. I was driving home from Milford to Stratford and was pulled over at gunpoint. Most people do not know the fear...