What racial profiling feels like.

• Author: Nurse, Jemelleh
• Position: Voices - Column

DECATUR, GEORIA--Over the summer, I was invited to a pool party at a friend's house in the Atlanta suburbs. My friend lives in a predominantly white neighborhood, but that had never been an issue. I yelled to my mother, "I'm leaving now, I'll call you when I get there." She jokingly yelled back, "OK, stay out of trouble."

As I got to my friend's house, three of my other friends pulled up: two boys and a girl, all black. The boys wore hats with the brims facing backward, swim trunks, and white T-shirts. The girl and I had on swimsuits, skirts, and flip-flops. We got out of our cars and started up the driveway. When we heard footsteps coming up behind us, we turned around to see a white police officer.

We politely asked him if we needed to move our cars became we thought that was the reason he was following us. When he did not reply, we asked again. He said, "No." We continued up the driveway and the officer, now rushing toward us, ordered us to get on the ground, face down. We turned around to make sure he was talking to us and he yelled again, "Get on the ground, face down!" We did as we were told.

The officer asked what we were doing and who lived in the house. We answered all of his questions. Luckily, our friend happened to walk out of her house, with her parents. We thought it was OK to get off the ground, but as soon as we moved, the officer pulled out his gun. I did not know...