Who You Callin' A Snitch?

“I know some niggas that’s quick to give a police a tip
But my nigga, he never folded” -King Von

Y’all know Carmelo Anthony? He’s an NBA forward currently playing for Portland. He has a special place in my heart because he led my (once) beloved Syracuse Orangemen to a championship in 2003. Shortly thereafter, he appeared briefly in a “Stop Snitchin'” video. It was a grainy home movie with some of his homeboys reminding us all of the perils of being a snitch. The Stop Snitchin’ movement was a whole thing. Endorsed by entertainers as well as drug dealers. There were even T-shirts. You had to be there.

“Snitches get stitches.”

But this anti-snitching sentiment is way more prevalent than that early 2000s moment. It’s ingrained in Black culture. I don’t know how or why. But I’m gonna go ahead and blame colonization and enslavement. So much of how we relate to power structures and legality is derived from our historical experiences of enslavement on colonized land. Our ancestors learned that people in power were not to be trusted. And that things that were illegal or forbidden were sometimes morally right. These, quite frankly, could have been lessons the ancestors learned in Africa and brought with them. Morally corrupt people in power are universal. But Black people’s experiences in chattel slavery definitely cemented the idea that forces that were tasked with protecting the interests of plantation owners were not to be trusted. Slave patrols may have been rebranded as law enforcement but distrust remains. Rightfully so.

“Don’t be a tattletale.”

It’s not just about the police either. In classrooms all over the country, educators implore students to “tell the teacher” when their classmates commit school infractions. Those same educators, however, are annoyed by the students who tell too much. I know. I was that teacher. Like, damn. Just worry about yourself, Johnny.

And, parents, if we’re being honest, we have told our children to “stop being a tattletale” and “go on somewhere and work it out by yourselves.” Be honest. You, at least, thought it. And, there’s nothing inherently wrong with that. Children do need to learn to worry about regulate their own behavior and work out their problems without tattling constant adult intervention. I’m just thinking of the ways blanket rules about not tattling and not snitching can jeopardize safety.

I have these neighbors who I’ve suspected have been up to no good since they moved in last summer. Inconsiderately loud music aside, the backyard looked like a chop shop, there were always people in and out at all times of the night, and lots of hammering, vacuuming, and power tools at 3 a.m. Plus, they would never clean up their dog’s crap when he got loose. Just rude. But, when the property management team, city code enforcement, and the local police asked questions about what I thought was going on, do you think I gave them answers? Absolutely not! I ain’t no snitch.

Anyway, one quiet snowy day last month, my daughter and I happened to look out of the window to see six police cars on our street. An hour later, my neighbors were arrested. A talkative officer mentioned their involvement in a shootout the night before. Seven hours later, after securing a warrant, the police collected weapons and stolen goods from next door. And then the bomb squad arrived. The people next door weren’t just rude. They were potentially dangerous. Did I do the right thing by being quiet? I, honestly, do not know. But there’s nothing like a little bomb scare to make you wish you would have ratted your neighbors out earlier.

Why didn’t I tell anybody about the suspected criminal activity?

First, and foremost, I have been conditioned not to be a tattletale. To look the other way. To not be a hater. To not knock someone else’s hustle when they just trying to make some money to feed their daughter sons. You know Nik loves the kids.

Secondly, I do try to align my actions with my values. And I have beliefs about the institution of policing (abolish it); the business of landlords (housing is a right); and the child welfare system (disproportionately places nonwhite children in foster care). Who am I to promote over-policing and eviction and break up a family?

Thirdly, um…snitches get stitches. Who’s to say my gun-toting, bomb-making neighbors wouldn’t retaliate if my lips were too loose? Like, for real. I’m a single woman and no one in my household can fight. And I’m not strapped…yet.

I want to live in integrity with my values, not make assumptions about people, and keep my family safe. I’m also not naive enough to think that the police will ensure my safety or that the property management company cares about more than the rent they collect. I got trust issues that are generations deep.

At the end of that long day last month an officer said, “Well, you won’t be seeing them for a while.” My neighbors were home within a week. I know arrests don’t equate to guilt. And we’re all innocent until proven guilty. And everyone deserves housing. But damn. After all that drama? They’re waving to me like nothing happened. Like, we didn’t just live through the 10th episode of Law & Order Season Three. I wonder how different things would have been if my neighbors were Black. But I digress.

The neighbors came back a little quieter and a little less rude. There’s a little less activity but the activity still seems shady. And I ain’t forgot that the bomb squad was out here last month. And I’m acutely aware of my daughter’s anxiety about the situation. But I still don’t trust the police. And I still don’t want to be the neighborhood snitch. So, what am I to do?

Categories: : Other