JUDY WOODRUFF: Sometimes
overlooked in this week's debate
over whether athletes should

take a knee during the playing
of the national anthem before
games is the original focus

of Colin Kaepernick's protest,
the deaths of unarmed black
men in confrontations with

law enforcement.

Riley Temple is a
lawyer and author.

And, tonight, he shares his
Humble Opinion on how those
confrontations with police are

a direct legacy of slavery
and the racism that fueled it.

RILEY TEMPLE, Author: Whenever
I go to the Smithsonian's
African American History Museum,

I make my pilgrimage to
Joseph Trammell's tin wallet.

It's a handmade, thin case
that holds his freedom papers.

Joseph Trammell, a black
man, was born a slave
in Virginia in 1831.

When he was 21, he was freed,
and surely believed that he had
some measure of liberty so long

as he had his tin
wallet with him.

When he was stopped,
he invariably had to
effect a servile posture
to the whites, who

demanded to know who, why,
how come, and what for.

The very sight of him, no slave
tag, no white supervision in
sight, was terrifying, an errant

and aimlessly roaming Negro
going about his ordinary days.

His family undoubtedly reminded
him, be nonthreatening,
say yes, ma'am, no,
sir, effect servility,

cower even.

Just don't get killed.

I was having an ordinary day
not long ago, when, in my
upscale and overwhelmingly white

Washington, D.C., neighborhood
where I have lived for the
past 25 years, my dog Wilson

and I walked past an
apartment building just across
the street from my own.

As Wilson paused, a blustery
white man appeared and bellowed
at me to not let my dog stop

there.

Then he demanded to know if
I lived in his neighborhood.

I asked why it was a
pertinent question.

He became furious, threatened
to call the police.

Three cops in two
cruisers appeared within
a couple of minutes,
flashing lights and all.

They told me they were answering
a trespassing complaint.

I pulled out my I.D.

I didn't have to, but I knew
I had to show my papers to
de-escalate the situation.

I wasn't a trespasser in
this rich white neighborhood.

I lived there.

I got out of my brush with the
police unscathed, but not before
telling a belligerent cop to

go to hell.

And, in so doing, I broke a
rule, the rule by which the
Joseph Trammells of slavery days

lived, and by which all
black people today are
told to obey, in order
to survive confrontations

with law enforcement: Be nice.

Be servile.

Say, no, sir, yes, ma'am.

By all means, do nothing that
smacks of dignity or claim of
right, else you will be killed.

My story was minor.

But so too is failing to signal
a lane change or selling illegal
cigarettes, and those acts

turned deadly for Sandra
Bland and Eric Garner.

By questioning my right to be,
I was suddenly slammed onto
that continuum of history, a

black man, perceived to be
an interloper, a trespasser,
an imminent threat, just like

freed slave Joseph
Trammell in 1852 Virginia.