I was seventeen years old when my perspective on law enforcement changed forever.

I was at the Saint Charles Carnival in Parma, Ohio with my girlfriend. We were not there even five minutes when a fight broke out. We walked over a little closer to get a better look and it turned out to be my girlfriend's little sister fighting with another little girl.

Two officers came running over and dragged both the girls away and we followed. I walked up to one of the officers and let him know who we were and asked what was happening.

Apparently, he didn't like that too much. He immediately started yelling and told me to “back up.” I tried to speak but before I had the chance to get any words out of my mouth he screamed again, this time even louder, to “back the f*ck up.”

At that point, I was more confused than anything and suddenly the officer reached for his hip, putting his hand on his gun. I threw my arms up in the air and slowly took a step back, at which point I was then tackled from behind by another officer.

A couple more officers walked over and started questioning me about what had happened and I really did not know what to tell them. We stood there waiting for everything to get sorted out. After a few minutes, we were walked over to a big group of officers and my girlfriend's little sister. They released her to us and told us to take her home.

Before we left I walked up to the officer that had reached for his gun and told him I wanted his badge number. He laughed in my face. Another officer who wasn't there at the time walked up to me and told me I could have his badge number and asked me to explain why I wanted it. As I explained, the group of officers started purposely talking just loud enough so I could hear them taunting me and laughing.

At one point one of the officers interrupted me to tell me how “lucky” I was to not be thrown in jail. I looked him in the eye and asked him what I did that would constitute me going to jail. I guess he wasn't too sure because he just repeated himself, except this time he said “your ass is lucky I don't throw you in f*cking jail right now.” So we left.

I felt like I was surrounded by a group of frat brothers, not the officers of the law that I had been taught my whole life were there to serve and protect me.

This happened to me when I was seventeen. I was unarmed, I was not aggressive, I did nothing to provoke this. This was not a bad area, it was at a church carnival in a middle-class suburb. I was a 5’10 and 135-pound kid. I posed no threat to this gang of grown men but apparently they must have felt like I was. Why else would the officer feel the need to reach for his gun?

From that day forward I have never been able to look at police the same.

The only reason I bring this up is because of all the police shootings that have been occurring across the country lately. One incident in particular really struck a chord with me because it happened just minutes away from where I’m currently attending school in San Diego.

Alfred Olango is dead at 38 years old. Olango’s sister called for police assistance when she grew worried about her brother because he was acting erratically. Two officers arrived on the scene an hour after the call and according to the officer's account, Olango got into a “shooting stance” and pointed his vape pen at them. One officer opened fire, fatally striking Olango, the other fired a stun gun.

It just does not add up to me. Why would Olango get in a “shooting stance” and point a vape pen at the officers? And even if he did, could the officers really not tell the difference between a gun and a vape pen in broad daylight? I have so many questions and so few answers.

I’m not trying to sit here and paint a picture that all cops are bad because they're not. Most are good people but frankly some aren’t. How are we supposed to be able to tell the difference between the ones that aren't and the ones that are?

Time and time again we see examples of police brutality. Especially when it comes to African Americans. It has gotten to the point where many prominent figures have felt the need to speak out and take action. Which is exactly what Colin Kaepernick did when he decided to take a knee during the national anthem because he refuses to “show pride in a flag for a country that oppresses black people and people of color.”

When LeBron James was asked about the subject he said he feared for his sons' lives just because of their skin color. President Barack Obama even stated after Travon Martins death that if he had a son he would probably have looked a lot like Travon.

We have a problem. I don’t think there’s just one logical answer that can solve this problem, but maybe if we all work together we can come up with a solution. I think that we should require more police training and have stricter qualifications to becoming an officer in the first place. I also believe every officer should wear a body cam. I’m not sure if that will solve the problem but I do know we need a change.

After all these years, I can’t help but think back to what that officer said to me that night at the carnival. Maybe he was right. Maybe I was “lucky,” but not because I didn't get tossed in jail, but because I survived. Maybe if my skin wasn't white, I would have been viewed as a “bad dude” just like Terence Crutcher was viewed as a “bad dude” by the officers in the helicopter that knew nothing about him, except that his skin was black. Maybe if I wasn't white I wouldn't have been so “lucky.” Maybe if I wasn't white I wouldn't be sitting here writing this today. Maybe that's white privilege.