I read about the shooting of Wayne State University police officer Collin Rose as I woke up on my first day of a brief family vacation. It was Wednesday morning, the day before Thanksgiving and I was at my in-law's house, reveling in the fact that after a long drive from Milwaukee to Cleveland someone else would get up with my young children while I lounged in bed. I did what no one should ever do first thing in the morning when I grabbed my phone and surfed the news from the comfort of my bed.
Officer Rose was shot in the head while responding to a call about burglary from cars around campus. He fought for about day before dying. Officer Rose's obituary offers a glimpse into his tragically-shortened life.
I am the son of retired police officer. My father is a 34 year veteran of the Chicago Police Department. He retired when I was 14 years old, but even at that young age, I distinctly remember the feeling I lived with each day that my Dad's job was very dangerous and that he might not come home if things went bad. I'm not writing to paint a sorrowful picture, but this formative experience clearly influences my view of the police. I idealize the police because they keep my family and I safe. I respect the police because they have a much harder job than I do. I exalt the police because I would never have enough courage to be one.
The interaction of African American men and law enforcement is a litany of violence, death and injustice. The frequency of this fractured interaction has many causes: poverty, drugs, racism, red-lining, segregation, fear, crime, depression and hopelessness to name a few. But a litany is not a majority. Being a health care provider, I have frequent interactions with law enforcement in patient care that I cannot write about. The interactions I have witnessed are by a vast majority of calm, respectful, patient police officers working under very difficult conditions with intoxicated, delirious and mentally ill patients of all races, ethnicities and genders.
Police brutality is real and wrong. Racial profiling is real and wrong. We as a society can and do work with our police departments to improve this. It can be better. It will be better. I understand the centuries of anger and lifetimes of poor interactions that lead some to say, rap and sing "Fuck the police!" Freedom of speech is a sacred right. Go ahead and say it if you need to. Get the anger out. Resist as you feel that you need to. Be civilly disobedient as you see fit.
What will never improve is the danger that police officers face on a day-to-day basis. They have a terribly humbling job description -- chase criminals, defuse anger, provide safety to massive crowds, run towards disasters and gunshots. But after you've shouted "fuck the police!", feel it deep down in your core. Internalize it and sit with it. Put it in your heart. And then tell me that when you see a robbery on a street corner or an attempted rape in a park or an active shooter at your school tell me that you are not going to pick up the phone and call 911. Tell me that you are not going to scream "help me!" just as much as you scream "fuck the police!" Tell me that you'll handle it yourself in a better way than then police can. And if you mean it, you're a braver person than I. Or more likely you are a liar.
Who would want to be a cop? For every bad cop there's fifty or a hundred or a thousand who want to help people and go home to their families. Good cops are not perfect people but they are good souls and brave people. They're my Dad, your wife, your brother, your neighbor.
Our society is bleeding. Too much division. Too much distrust. Too much paranoia. Too much hate. Frustrated citizens don't hate cops, they hate bad cops and bad policing. Frustrated cops don't hate black people, they hate guilt by association and blanket statements. And both parties share a common enemy -- preconceived notions. It's not too late for us. West Lawn Park is a supporter of the Black Lives Matter movement and the Fraternal Order of Police. This isn't a contradiction. It's pragmatism and it's humanity minus anger.
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Officer Rose was shot in the head while responding to a call about burglary from cars around campus. He fought for about day before dying. Officer Rose's obituary offers a glimpse into his tragically-shortened life.
I am the son of retired police officer. My father is a 34 year veteran of the Chicago Police Department. He retired when I was 14 years old, but even at that young age, I distinctly remember the feeling I lived with each day that my Dad's job was very dangerous and that he might not come home if things went bad. I'm not writing to paint a sorrowful picture, but this formative experience clearly influences my view of the police. I idealize the police because they keep my family and I safe. I respect the police because they have a much harder job than I do. I exalt the police because I would never have enough courage to be one.
The interaction of African American men and law enforcement is a litany of violence, death and injustice. The frequency of this fractured interaction has many causes: poverty, drugs, racism, red-lining, segregation, fear, crime, depression and hopelessness to name a few. But a litany is not a majority. Being a health care provider, I have frequent interactions with law enforcement in patient care that I cannot write about. The interactions I have witnessed are by a vast majority of calm, respectful, patient police officers working under very difficult conditions with intoxicated, delirious and mentally ill patients of all races, ethnicities and genders.
Police brutality is real and wrong. Racial profiling is real and wrong. We as a society can and do work with our police departments to improve this. It can be better. It will be better. I understand the centuries of anger and lifetimes of poor interactions that lead some to say, rap and sing "Fuck the police!" Freedom of speech is a sacred right. Go ahead and say it if you need to. Get the anger out. Resist as you feel that you need to. Be civilly disobedient as you see fit.
What will never improve is the danger that police officers face on a day-to-day basis. They have a terribly humbling job description -- chase criminals, defuse anger, provide safety to massive crowds, run towards disasters and gunshots. But after you've shouted "fuck the police!", feel it deep down in your core. Internalize it and sit with it. Put it in your heart. And then tell me that when you see a robbery on a street corner or an attempted rape in a park or an active shooter at your school tell me that you are not going to pick up the phone and call 911. Tell me that you are not going to scream "help me!" just as much as you scream "fuck the police!" Tell me that you'll handle it yourself in a better way than then police can. And if you mean it, you're a braver person than I. Or more likely you are a liar.
Who would want to be a cop? For every bad cop there's fifty or a hundred or a thousand who want to help people and go home to their families. Good cops are not perfect people but they are good souls and brave people. They're my Dad, your wife, your brother, your neighbor.
Our society is bleeding. Too much division. Too much distrust. Too much paranoia. Too much hate. Frustrated citizens don't hate cops, they hate bad cops and bad policing. Frustrated cops don't hate black people, they hate guilt by association and blanket statements. And both parties share a common enemy -- preconceived notions. It's not too late for us. West Lawn Park is a supporter of the Black Lives Matter movement and the Fraternal Order of Police. This isn't a contradiction. It's pragmatism and it's humanity minus anger.
