Just for fun, I thought I'd get your take on this:
Does it really make some officers mad when a female cries during a traffic stop?
I was stopped a couple of weeks ago and had had such a long week that I ended up crying even though I really did not mean to. I was not trying to get out of anything; I was just emotionally and physically drained.
If you care to read the account that I posted on my Facebook, I've copied it below, but even if you don't you can still weigh in on my question. Thanks!
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8/23/08
This past week was challenging. My husband was away all week at state basic law enforcement training. I was struggling to get to know my students as they were constantly being transferred in and out of my five freshmen literature and composition classes. We had "Curriculum Night" on Thursday Night, which was from 6:30pm to 8:30 pm, so I didn't get home until 9pm. Also, I have been feeling slightly ill ever since I returned to work; I always have issues with my sinuses. And, finally, I had an evening masters class on Friday.
All of these circumstances came together to form a perfect storm last night. It was a little after 8pm, and I was driving home from North Forsyth High School where my Lesley Cohort meets. I had been there since 4:50pm, and hadn't been home at all since I left that morning at 6:05am. About a mile after I turned left off Brown's Bridge and onto Keith Bridge, I saw blue lights in my rear-view mirror. I wasn't really sure why I was being pulled over. I wondered if there was something wrong with one of my lights or something like that.
After what seemed like a long while, but was probably only a few minutes, the officer walked up to my window and explained that he had seen me cross the line on the right twice. I didn't argue with him. I was exhausted. I simply flashed the school ID badge I was still wearing, and explained that was "just really tired. I'm a teacher, and I'm working on my master's degree at night." At that point my exhaustion and weakened immune system gave way, and my voice began to crack as tears silently dribbled down my face. I hadn't meant to cry. I wanted to explain that I just desperately wanted to get home to my husband who had been at the academy all week, but I couldn't say another word. I just responded to his few questions with half-sobbed Yes and No Sirs.
He said he just wanted to make sure that I hadn't been drinking and that I could make it home safely. He then asked for my driver's license, and briefly went back to his car. I'm assuming he was doing an obligatory insurance check. When he came back he asked me if I was taking anything to stay awake; to which I responded, "No, Sir." Finally, he gave me my license back and reminded me to "take care of yourself."
Although I was a little shaken up by this experience, I was impressed by the officer. He was polite and seemed genuinely concerned about me. I wish I could remember his name, but I was so upset that I can only recall that it began with a "C". I feel a bit bad for crying in front of the deputy, but I honestly couldn't help it. I'm so glad that my husband will be working with wonderful, professional deputies like the one I had this odd chance meeting with last night.
Does it really make some officers mad when a female cries during a traffic stop?
I was stopped a couple of weeks ago and had had such a long week that I ended up crying even though I really did not mean to. I was not trying to get out of anything; I was just emotionally and physically drained.
If you care to read the account that I posted on my Facebook, I've copied it below, but even if you don't you can still weigh in on my question. Thanks!
__________________________________________________ ________________
8/23/08
This past week was challenging. My husband was away all week at state basic law enforcement training. I was struggling to get to know my students as they were constantly being transferred in and out of my five freshmen literature and composition classes. We had "Curriculum Night" on Thursday Night, which was from 6:30pm to 8:30 pm, so I didn't get home until 9pm. Also, I have been feeling slightly ill ever since I returned to work; I always have issues with my sinuses. And, finally, I had an evening masters class on Friday.
All of these circumstances came together to form a perfect storm last night. It was a little after 8pm, and I was driving home from North Forsyth High School where my Lesley Cohort meets. I had been there since 4:50pm, and hadn't been home at all since I left that morning at 6:05am. About a mile after I turned left off Brown's Bridge and onto Keith Bridge, I saw blue lights in my rear-view mirror. I wasn't really sure why I was being pulled over. I wondered if there was something wrong with one of my lights or something like that.
After what seemed like a long while, but was probably only a few minutes, the officer walked up to my window and explained that he had seen me cross the line on the right twice. I didn't argue with him. I was exhausted. I simply flashed the school ID badge I was still wearing, and explained that was "just really tired. I'm a teacher, and I'm working on my master's degree at night." At that point my exhaustion and weakened immune system gave way, and my voice began to crack as tears silently dribbled down my face. I hadn't meant to cry. I wanted to explain that I just desperately wanted to get home to my husband who had been at the academy all week, but I couldn't say another word. I just responded to his few questions with half-sobbed Yes and No Sirs.
He said he just wanted to make sure that I hadn't been drinking and that I could make it home safely. He then asked for my driver's license, and briefly went back to his car. I'm assuming he was doing an obligatory insurance check. When he came back he asked me if I was taking anything to stay awake; to which I responded, "No, Sir." Finally, he gave me my license back and reminded me to "take care of yourself."
Although I was a little shaken up by this experience, I was impressed by the officer. He was polite and seemed genuinely concerned about me. I wish I could remember his name, but I was so upset that I can only recall that it began with a "C". I feel a bit bad for crying in front of the deputy, but I honestly couldn't help it. I'm so glad that my husband will be working with wonderful, professional deputies like the one I had this odd chance meeting with last night.
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