photo courtesy of Pixabay
I woke up this morning to a world gone mad, and I’m not sure how to proceed with my day.
So I write. Without thinking too much, without editing my emotions, and without worry that I might say something that will offend you.
You’ll get over it, and if you don’t then you can find another blogger to read. I really don’t care.
Because twelve police officers were shot in Dallas last night, and five are dead. And the entire police community in America is changed forever.
I’m the daughter of a police officer; my dad is long retired from a small suburb of Rochester, NY. The scanner was always on in our house, the small black box with the row of blinking red lights calling out each report of someone in need or danger and the response that help was on the way. I know firsthand the toll the job can take on a family, a marriage, a life.
I think the vast majority of Americans understand that the police are the good guys. Are there bad apples here and there? Sure, and there’s no excuse for them.
But they’re a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of the family of men and women who wear a badge.
That’s why you hear about the bad ones, why they make the front page, are the lead story on the news, are the memes most shared on social media.
It’s not a big news story when a cop goes to work and no one complains, when he serves a warrant and takes the criminal into custody without incident, when he stops a car and apprehends the suspect and no one is killed.
It happens every single hour of every single day of every single week of every single year. Officers doing their job.
* * * * * * * *
I know in my heart that most Americans believe the police are the good guys. But even so, I think they take for granted that when they dial 911, there’s an officer on duty – and take for granted what that means for him and his family.
If you’re in an accident on your way to work, for example, an officer is on duty and ready to respond – which means he’s not kissing his wife goodbye as she goes to work or seeing his children off to school.
If you come home from work at 5 PM and find your house has been burglarized, an officer is on duty and ready to respond – which means he’s not eating dinner with his own family.
If your neighbors are having a loud party and by 2 AM you’ve had enough, an officer is on duty and ready to respond to your noise complaint – which means he isn’t home in bed with his wife.
When you’re at your kid’s soccer game or school play, an officer is on duty and ready to respond to any call – which means he’s not at his own kid’s soccer game or school play.
When you’re with your family opening presents on Christmas morning, an officer is on duty and ready to respond to any call – which means he’s not with his own family opening presents on Christmas morning.
When an officer is on duty and responding to a domestic disturbance, mediating an emotionally charged situation between a husband and wife, he’s not at home working on his own marriage.
When an officer is on duty and spending time talking with kids on the streets of the city, shooting hoops and encouraging the kids to stay in school, he’s not at home helping his own children with their homework.
And when you want to exercise your First Amendment right to gather in peaceful protest of the police, dozens of officers will be on duty, making sure you are safe.
Even if they are not.
In other words, every day a police officer goes to work and leaves his own family in order to protect yours.
And now five officers in Dallas will never go home.
* * * * * * * *
Here’s another reality about police officers that most people never think about.
Every day they are yelled at, punched, spat on, slapped, kicked, cut. They’re called names by small children who’ve been taught by their parents that all police are to be reviled.
This is not an exaggeration; there is a growing culture across America where adults are actually indoctrinating their children with the belief that the police are out to hurt them.
The police deal with this. Every. Single. Day.
Imagine being the officer responding to a call for assistance today from a person who spit in your face yesterday. It happens all the time.
Think about what that’s like for a minute and then try that at your job. Gather up all of the people who don’t like you, conspire against you, undermine your work or authority, and do their best to make your life miserable. Put them all in a room, and then give them permission to talk openly and to your face about how much they hate you, hope you get fired, wish your dog dead, or even worse – because you know they’re thinking it – would like to slash your tires or put drain cleaner in your coffee. Now smile, help them in and out of their chairs, hold open the door, make sure no one falls on their way back to their office.
Sound like a fun way to spend 8 hours a day, every day? Yeah, I didn’t think so.
But the police don’t have the luxury of refusing service, even to people who hate them. It’s their job to show up when you call, whether you like them or not, whether they like you or not, and make sure you’re safe.
The truth is that unless you are a police officer, are married to a police officer, or have a child, parent, or sibling who is a police officer you have no idea what it’s really like to be a police officer.
But you have the right to judge and speculate and bitch and moan.
And then call 911 when you need help.
And a cop will show up.
That’s the job, folks.
Mathematically, the probability is small that a police officer will be killed in the line of duty. But the possibility is there every time a cop gets a call. No one knows what’s behind the next corner, closed door, dark alley.
Or amidst a peaceful protest.
I pray for the men and women in blue who go out every day and do their jobs, with honor.
Be safe out there. And thank you.