It was Tuesday morning as I boarded the train headed home for the day for an event that I had been waiting for my whole. For as long as I can remember, my little brother wanted to be a police officer. Starting out from childhood playing cops and robbers all the way to graduating with a degree in criminal justice, the spirit of law enforcement ran through him just as it ran through our parent’s years before him. However, this would not be my happy ending.
For me, this narrative is one where the intersection of my activism is in a constant battle with the institution of policing and my family sworn to uphold their jobs as officers of the law.
See there is this belief that there are “good cops” and “bad cops” and that the bad ones ruin the system for the good ones. However, this in my opinion is quite flawed for several reasons, the main one being that a “good cop” is a cop “that does his job.” A cop who does his job to “protect and serve all” should not be rewarded as if that is an above and beyond service, when that is the stipulation of his job. If my job as an accountant is to get 1+1 to equal 2, then I should not be praised as a “good” accountant because I can get to 2 and the other accountant can only get to 1.5.
“Deep inside, I knew that my brother had made a choice that I was quickly growing to hate by the day, and now I was going to have to face it head on.”
Second issue being, a cop who chooses to be silent with so many “bad” cops ruining the institution is complicit in the injustice and deserves no praise or credit for a job well done. Silence equals violence in my eyes, and a cop who does nothing to help change the image of an institution birthed from the patrol of slaves that has now become the modern day baby of that.
I think I was 5 or 6 years old when I watched my father get sworn in as Sergeant, or that is what the picture we have hanging up would suggest. I watched him fight racism within his own department, while being a major player civil obedience in our community.
As a child, it was cool to have a dad being one of the most respected in our city for the work he was doing to fight crime. My mother also worked at the police department, using her voice and her own money to create kits for new inmates so that would have toiletries like deodorant and soap provided to them. This was stock from which I was raised, and inevitably helped create the progressive activist that I am today that often times puts me in direct opposition with the history and legacy from which I came.
It was 2 weeks ago when racial tensions hit its breaking point with the shooting of Alton Sterling in Baton Rouge followed by the shooting of Philando Castile in Minnesota in less than a 24 hour span. Two more black lives taken too soon at the hands of police violence. Black rage poured out into the streets as protests started across the nation leading to the events in Dallas Texas, where 5 police officers would be killed with an additional 9 people injured (inclusive of 2 civilians).
I sat and watched as these events happened and as I have done in years past, offered my voice as platform for those who couldn’t quite articulate how they were feeling. I tweeted, posted and wrote articles into the wee hours of the night hoping that the world would understand how our pain in this country has now reached a place of rage, and that people would no longer be willing to stand in the face of injustice any longer. Unfortunately, deep inside, I knew that my brother had made a choice that I was quickly growing to hate by the day, and now I was going to have to face it head on.
“I stood proud to watch him go into a profession he so longed to be in. It was at that moment I realized there isn’t just one way to freedom and liberation.”
It was hard to board that train that day, but I love him and I did it. I didn’t know if the world who follows my voice would ever understand my support of him as a cop while fighting the institution but that no longer was my concern.
That day when I arrived at the swearing in I stood proud to watch him go into a profession he so longed to be in. It was at that moment I realized there isn’t just one way to freedom and liberation, and although I may not agree with his, there is enough room for us to try all methods. His belief that he can take an inside approach to grow relationships between police and community is admirable, even if I am not wholeheartedly a believer in that process.
So I choose to take the outside looking in approach to gaining freedom from oppression and justice for the black lives that are being taken day by day. He chose to take the inside approach and work on the institution itself with the hope that he can be the change agent needed for police reform. I don’t have the answer or solution, I do know that I am thankful to have someone who I feel is on the side of community even if he is in the family of Blue.
