A friend sent me a text message on Thursday
stating, “I wanted to reach out to you and give you a long distance hug. I know
you have beloved brothers and sisters on both sides of the madness going on
right now. The most heartbreaking thing is that “sides” even exist in the first
place.”
This made me cognitively think about what a
unique perspective I have and how my heart hurts in so many ways right now.
For those of you who may not know me, I have
been a career journalist—both on TV and newspaper. Some of my dear friends are
black and in college I was one of the few white models during my university’s
Black History Month fashion show. I am also married to a police officer. Media.
Black. Police. These are three perspectives on one issue, and I believe that my
past experiences shape me to have a pretty well-rounded opinion on the
situation plaguing us today.
When a black person is shot by police, uproar
occurs. There have been “bad shoots,” meaning some police officers have been
unjustified in shooting or killing the citizens they are supposed to protect—
this includes black men. Because of the bad shoots, nearly every shooting
involving a black man and a white police officer are immediately judged and
sides are taken. Black people in America join together in grief and want to
make a stand to create a dialogue and hopefully make a difference.
In the same way police families join together
in grief, knowing that not all of the shootings are unjustified and knowing
they fear what an individual might do to them to avoid arrest or lash out against
the badge.
The media has quickly learned that officer
involved shootings that feature a white officer vs. a black individual equals
high ratings. The news is on a revolving cycle and the hours of broadcast time causes
some journalists to feel a pressure to fill the cycle with speculation and
interviews that are passionate and sometimes ill-informed. This approach
results in a dialogue, but the truth is that the information is not always
accurate and can cause more harm than good.
When a white officer shoots a black man, my
Facebook newsfeed is filled with opinions and emotions on opposite sides of the
spectrum. My black friends are hurting; they are scared; they are enraged; they
can identify with the victim. My cop friends are hurting; they are scared; they
are enraged; they can identify with the shooter.
When the shoot is obviously unjustified, my
husband and I are angered, appalled, and dismayed. When an officer believes
that he can do what he wants because he has a badge and a gun, it not only
tarnishes the badge that David wears—it makes his job more dangerous, harder
and less appreciated. Police officers refer to themselves as “The Thin Blue
Line.” Law enforcement families share a bond because it is us who truly
understand the stress, pressure, danger and sacrifice that is a package-deal
when you are a cop or the family member of one. Although we are a “family,”
this does not mean that we justify or defend cops who treat others unjustly.
John Stewart expressed it well by stating, “You
can truly grieve for every officer who’s been lost in the line of duty in this
country, and still be troubled by cases of police overreach. Those two ideas
are not mutually exclusive. You can have great regard for law enforcement and
still want them to be held to high standards.”
One of my best friends, for nearly twelve
years, is a black man named Deon who is from Los Angeles, California. He attended high
school at Centennial High School in Compton, California. Despite how rough
Compton can be perceived, he avoided gang involvement, trouble with the law and
earned a Master’s in Business Administration. But when a person sees him, they
see a muscular black man who stands 6’4” tall. When any person of any race sees
him, they don’t know if he is nice, mean, shy, outgoing, violent or peaceful. If
an officer interacted with him, I would hope that the officer would treat him
fairly and with respect. If Deon was treated harshly, with violence or with
disrespect, my heart would break and I would be embarrassed that the officer
wears the same badge as my husband. If my friend was ever a victim of an
officer-involved shooting, my heart would not only break but I would be
enraged, hurt, and scared. Therefore, I can identify with the protesters and
with those expressing hurt and disgust in relation to the officers who have
disgraced the badge.
Deon and I, Easter 2007
Right before our MBA graduation, 2013.
Steph and I in LA visiting Deon, 2014.
I sincerely pray that my friends of any race
will not stereotype all police officers based off of the actions of the
officers who do not perform their job to the standards they swore to uphold. In
the same way, I pray that police officers will not stereotype people by their
race and treat them differently, based off of the actions of people who share
the same color of skin and made bad life choices.
My husband decided to become a police officer
because he wanted to show people that nice guys are police officers, too—this
means that he recognizes that some officers abuse the badge. When my husband
leaves for work, we always hug, kiss, tell each other “I love you” and say a
meaningful goodbye. We have this habit because we never know whether he will
return home, safe. I know my husband is forced to make split-second decisions
while he is on duty which can change his life and the lives of others in this
community. I hope that he never has to pull the trigger, but I also hope that
he will if that is what he needs to do to get home safely to me.
As a former TV and newspaper journalist, I
know that viewership numbers matter and that when you report stories regarding
certain subjects, you are practically guaranteed a large audience. I also know
that misreporting or sharing opinions or hunches instead of facts is dangerous,
both ethically and to the readers. Misinformation in any way can lead to
negative results.
I believe that the media circus surrounding
the coverage of white officer vs. black man shootings makes the problem worse.
Black people feel more on edge; feel like they might be next. Police officers
feel, see and hear that hostility and become more on edge, wondering if a black
person will be quicker to defend themselves with violence. I believe that this
contributes to the officer-involved shootings. When both parties are scared, on
edge and feel like they are a target, things escalate quickly which is both
scary and dangerous.
My heart hurts in many ways and my stress
level increases dramatically when officer-involved shootings occur.
Recently, Ottumwa had an officer-involved
shooting that did not make much of a splash in the media despite how
interesting of a story it was. A white male, with an AK-47 allegedly began a
house fire while he was inside a home with four other individuals. Police were
called, created a perimeter and kept the fire department and ambulance service
away from the scene while it was still dangerous. Eventually the gunman emerged
from the house, armed with the AK-47. Video footage of the incident shows that
the gunman pointed the rifle at officers and that is when two officers shot at
the man to save their lives and the lives of the other officers on scene.
Immediately after the gunman was shot, officers ran to him to drag his body
away from the dangerously close proximity to the burning home. My husband
immediately began lifesaving measures on the man who had just pointed an AK-47
at him. The gunman lived. However, the gunman was white so the “big” news
agencies did not pick up the story.
The moment I was notified of Ottumwa’s
officer-involved shooting, I feared for the safety of my husband. First, I
worried about his physical safety. After that was assured, I worried about his
emotional and mental wellbeing. Although the shooting was justified, handled
properly and had an ending where everyone lived—it still rocked my world as a
police wife. Being a police wife can be a hard role. I want to know that my
husband is safe, that he is appreciated for the danger he puts himself in every
day and that the sacrifices our family makes for him to be a police officer is
worth it.
After waking up to the news of the sniper
attacks on Dallas police officers, I am reminded of the words of Martin Luther
King, Jr., “Violence never brings
permanent peace. It solves no social problem: it merely creates new and more
complicated ones. Violence is impractical because it is a descending spiral ending
in destruction for all. It is immoral because it seeks to humiliate the
opponent rather than win his understanding: it seeks to annihilate rather than
convert. Violence is immoral because it thrives on hatred rather than love. It
destroys community and makes brotherhood impossible. It leaves society in
monologue rather than dialogue. Violence ends up defeating itself. It creates
bitterness in the survivors and brutality in the destroyers.”
To my black friends: your lives matter. I’m
sorry that some cops are poorly trained, racist, and violent. If there has been
a police officer that has hurt you, your family, friends or someone you relate
to—please know that my heart goes out to you.
To my cop friends: your lives matter. I’m
sorry that some irresponsible reporters and pot-stirrers make your hard and
dangerous job even harder and more dangerous. I am sorry that there are bad
cops out there that tarnish your badge and cause your career choice to appear
less noble and heroic. I pray for your safety and for your family as they wait and
hope for you to come through the door every night.
To my journalist friends: your jobs matter.
Reporters are the writers of history. You have an important responsibility in
society and what you report impacts your audience and the people they interact
with. I am sorry that responsible reporters get lumped in with the negative stereotype
of “the media.” Please stay safe, truthful and ethical in your reporting
despite the pressures to cater to propaganda.
To those of you who have read this post, I
hope this gives you a new perspective and insight. I hope that good people will
unite, despite their skin color or career choice. I hope that we can have a
dialogue and not a monologue. I hope for peace, understanding and safety. I pray
that the division will end and instead we will unite to fight for what is right
and just—no matter who is in the wrong. Please know that not every black person
is a thug and not every police officer is a jerk. Let’s stop stereotypes and
instead find commonalities and appreciation for one another.
“Hate. It has caused a lot of problems in
this world, but it has not solved one yet.” Maya Angelou.
