One sunny day in San Francisco I was pulled over by the police on McAllister (between Fillmore & Webster). I had no idea someone had stolen my rear license plate. The calm white veteran officer that pulled me over said someone probably wanted my registration tags.

He then took my info and went back to his car. I was sitting in my car listening to music, a half a block away from my destination.  Suddenly another patrol car screeched to the scene and a much younger white officer jumped out (positioned himself behind his car as a shield), pointed his black Glock 9mm towards my face, yelling “get your hands where I can see them.”

I was dumbfounded, considering how calm the scene was before he arrived. For a split second I turned my head in disbelief. He then yelled it again — and as I looked at the twitching of his gun and the fear in his eyes, the fear I saw in him scared me.

I immediately threw my hands up in absolute fear for my life, and once my hands were up the officer approached my car and snatched the keys out the ignition. I still remember people yelling in disbelief at the officer actions from their apartment windows. Soon after — the initial officer returned to my car with my items and I was on my way.

No debrief, apology, or further interaction.