How I Ended Up In Solitary After Calling 911 For Help
Back in November, I was arrested in Brooklyn for running a red light on my bike while on my way to work in Manhattan.Normally you're given a ticket and let go, but in this instance, the officers took issue with the fact that I was not carrying ID.  Both officers told me that I "could be arrested for not having ID."  For clarification, I asked if it was a city, state, or national law, and the officers adamantly maintained that it was a state law. I, stupidly, thought to educate them on this misconception, and one officer in particular decided to bring me in because she "knows the laws and doesn't need to be told how to do [her] job."I was brought into the local precinct (Brooklyn's 88th).  When I arrived, both officers denied saying I was required to carry ID when I asked the captain about the law.  Of course the captain confirmed that I was not required to carry ID, but at that point it didn't really matter anyway.  The charge was failure to obey a traffic signal.I was held in solitary confinement for 10 hours.  During that time, the female arresting officer would periodically come by to taunt me, and tell me that I shouldn't have questioned her, and then threw a huge tantrum when I requested not to be touched by her for fingerprinting.  They sent another officer in to do it, but for a moment, I honestly thought was going to beat the shit out of me.The other arresting officer, a guy of Filipino descent, noticed my Filipino flag belt buckle when they were taking my belt (so I couldn't hang myself, apparently).  We talked about the country a bit (I was a volunteer there for 2 years) and to his credit he apologized to me, admitted that he was wrong about the law, but said that there wasn't anything he could do now that I was in there because the other officer wanted to make an example of me.  I was, curiously, allowed to keep my shoelaces.The other officers that would walk by my urine soaked cell and ask why I was there did not believe at first that I had been arrested for running a red light.  When I mentioned who the arresting officer was though, they all gave a knowing sigh.  One told me that she was not at all respected there, that she had a huge temper, and that I should not have crossed her.  One officer went across the street and bought me a slice of pizza, which was nice.Around 8pm, I was personally escorted by two other officers to a courthouse in downtown Brooklyn, where I was retina scanned and placed in a holding cell with around 10 other criminals.  Charges ranged from domestic abuse to armed robbery.  One man was on the floor going through drug withdrawals.  Everyone scoffed at the idea that I was there because of a traffic violation, and likely assumed I was making that up.  I talked to my escorting officers a bit and they also confirmed that my arresting officer was a bit of a joke at the precinct, and that I had been unlucky.While at the courthouse jail cell, the officer that was watching everyone at one point began banging on the cell bars with his hands and yelling at the inmates, calling them niggers and going on about how they're all in there because they never had any fathers growing up.  Some of the inmates laughed, but others were visibly scared.  When that calmed down and another officer came by to drop off someone else, I told him what had happened and his only response was "so?"I was offered the chance to make a phone call, but the only number I even have memorized anymore is my mother's, and despite knowing that my friends were probably scared to death looking for me, I wasn't at the point of calling her.  She still does not know that any of this ever happened.I was then given a chance to speak to my public defender through plated glass.  That took about 20 seconds.  She basically told me this whole thing was ridiculous, that I had likely pissed off an officer (I hadn't told her anything) and that we were going to ask the judge to dismiss the charge and that the judge would do so.At 11pm I went before the judge for about 5 seconds and the charges were dismissed and I was allowed to go home.  Unfortunately, I first had to walk back to the precinct to get my bike, keys, phone, etc.  Luckily it wasn't too cold.I had thought that I was handling things fairly well, but when I arrived at the precinct and was faced with the notion of going back in there, even as a free person, I began vomiting in the garbage can beside the steps leading in.  Dehydration and stress were probably the causes, and for a moment I feared being seen, in case they would arrest me again right there for something or other.My phone was dead, so I couldn't get ahold of anyone until I got home, but I was too tired and afraid to get back on my bike, so I walked back to my apartment.  When I finally did get back on the grid, I had found that my brother, girlfriend, and work colleagues had all been desperately looking for me when I hadn't shown up to work, and had been calling hospitals and police stations.  They eventually did get a confirmation from the 88th precinct that I was there, which of course no one relayed to me.  My work was prepared to send their lawyer down, but my brother talked them out of it, thinking that it would likely make things worse for me inside (he was probably right, but go work).  I felt even worse for putting them through such an experience.All told, I was in custody from around 10am to 11pm and I've learned a few things on the inside.  Knowing your rights doesn't matter.  There are no repercussions to any officer for anything they say or do.  If they want to make your life hell, they can and will.  Carrying ID may not be required by law, but it will save you a lot of hassle and explaining if you ever do have a run in with the law.  You can either exercise your right not to carry ID, but you put yourself in danger of the wrath of an ignorant police force (I still don't carry it).  Also, don't run red lights on your bike.