Spring Break
Opposing views: Were San Jose police excessive with their force in the handling of Mardi Gras?
Yes
Carla Mancebo
Issue date: 3/1/07 Section: Opinion
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The overwhelming number of police that enveloped the downtown streets on Fat Tuesday would have made any person feel powerless.
I felt like an animal trapped in a corral of police blockades and imaginary boundaries.
I was herded along by cowboy cops, whipping me with their harsh words so I would parade faster, past groups of sexually deprived men who looked at me as a prime cut of meat while branding me with their obscenities.
The most brutal display of abused authority by the police last Tuesday night was on Santa Clara Street. Irritated officers inundated downtown San Jose's main vein with their delusion of might and pushed harmless people around with their stumpy-hard batons.
I was not intimidated. I was simply a victim of their fears.
Worried for their lives, the police officers' faces were scathed with worry beneath their sullen expressions. Concealing themselves with masks of irritability and resentment for having to watch something they thought was illegal.
Government minions stood legs apart, arms crossed on each main corner of downtown anticipating the worst behavior from everyone. One could have avoided all confrontations with the bicycle-riding authority abusers inside a club or a bar but outside it was a different experience.
The moment the heel of my purple suede boot hit the sidewalk an officer accosted me, asking to see my identification, my age was my validation to freely roam where I chose.
A little farther down the road another policeman, the John Wayne type, tried to march a group of us into a club we didn't even want to go to. I complained and he peered down at me from above, on his high horse and told me to not piss him off.
Despite his menacing mustache I walked past him only to be diverted again by two bored cops hanging out on Forth Street. Even residents could not cross Forth Street to get home.
Many revelers seemed to be walking in a labyrinth of barricades.
The rows of cop cars, parked near the old courthouse across from Saint James Park, waited with running engines while our tax money exhausted away in vain.
I felt like an animal trapped in a corral of police blockades and imaginary boundaries.
I was herded along by cowboy cops, whipping me with their harsh words so I would parade faster, past groups of sexually deprived men who looked at me as a prime cut of meat while branding me with their obscenities.
The most brutal display of abused authority by the police last Tuesday night was on Santa Clara Street. Irritated officers inundated downtown San Jose's main vein with their delusion of might and pushed harmless people around with their stumpy-hard batons.
I was not intimidated. I was simply a victim of their fears.
Worried for their lives, the police officers' faces were scathed with worry beneath their sullen expressions. Concealing themselves with masks of irritability and resentment for having to watch something they thought was illegal.
Government minions stood legs apart, arms crossed on each main corner of downtown anticipating the worst behavior from everyone. One could have avoided all confrontations with the bicycle-riding authority abusers inside a club or a bar but outside it was a different experience.
The moment the heel of my purple suede boot hit the sidewalk an officer accosted me, asking to see my identification, my age was my validation to freely roam where I chose.
A little farther down the road another policeman, the John Wayne type, tried to march a group of us into a club we didn't even want to go to. I complained and he peered down at me from above, on his high horse and told me to not piss him off.
Despite his menacing mustache I walked past him only to be diverted again by two bored cops hanging out on Forth Street. Even residents could not cross Forth Street to get home.
Many revelers seemed to be walking in a labyrinth of barricades.
The rows of cop cars, parked near the old courthouse across from Saint James Park, waited with running engines while our tax money exhausted away in vain.
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