I remember the countless times I canvassed the area afterwards, and asked everyone, “Did you see who did it?” and the popular response from the very same family members was always, “Fuck the Police, I ain’t no snitch. I’m gonna take care of this myself.” This happened every single time, every single homicide, black on black, and then my realization became clearer.
I woke up every morning, put on my freshly pressed uniform, shined my badge, function-checked my weapon and kissed my wife and kid. Then, I waited for my wife to say the same thing she always does before I leave, “Make sure you come back home to us.”
I always replied, “I will”, but the truth was I was never sure if I would.
I almost lost my life on this job. Every call, every stop, every moment that I had this uniform on was another possibility for me to almost lose my life again. I was a target in the very community I swore to protect, the very community I wanted to help.
As a matter of fact, they hated my very presence. They called me, “Uncle Tom,” and “wanna be white boy.” I couldn’t understand why. My own fellow black men and women attacking me, wishing for my death, wishing for the death of my family.
I was so confused, so torn, I couldn’t understand why my own black people would turn against me, when every time they called … I was there. Every time someone died … I was there. Every time they were going through one of the worst moments in their lives … I was there.
So why was I the enemy? I dove deep into that question … Why was I the enemy? Then my realization became more clear.
Complaint: Police always targeting us, they always messing with the black man.
Fact: A city where the majority of citizens are black (Baltimore, for example) will ALWAYS have a higher rate of black people getting arrested. It will ALWAYS have a higher rate of blacks getting stopped, and will ALWAYS have a higher rate of blacks getting killed.
The reason why is because a city with those characteristics will ALWAYS have a higher rate of blacks committing crime. The statistics will follow the same trend for Asians if you go to China, for Hispanics if you go to Puerto Rico, for whites if you go to Russia and the list goes on. It’s called Demographics
Complaint: More black people get arrested than white boys.
Fact: Black People commit a grossly disproportionate amount of crime. Data from the FBI shows that nationwide, Blacks committed 5,173 homicides in 2014, while whites committed 4,367.
Chicago’s death toll is almost equal to that of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, combined. Chicago’s death toll from January 1, 2001 to November, 26 2015 stands at 7,401. The combined total deaths during Operation Iraqi Freedom (2003-2015: 4,815) and Operation Enduring Freedom/Afghanistan (2001-2015: 3,506), total 8,321.
Complaint: Blacks are the only ones getting killed by police, or they are killed more.
Fact: As of July 2016, the breakdown of the number of US Citizens killed by Police this year is, 238 White people killed, 123 Black people killed, 79 Hispanics, 69 other/or unknown race.
Fact: Black people kill more blacks than Police do. The only protest and outrage is when a cop kills a black man.
University of Toledo criminologist Dr. Richard R. Johnson examined the latest crime data from the FBI’s Supplementary Homicide Reports and Centers for Disease Control and found that an average of 4,472 black men were killed by other black men annually between Jan. 1, 2009, and Dec. 31, 2012. Professor Johnson’s research further concluded that 112 black men died from both justified and unjustified police-involved killings annually during this same period.
Complaint: Well we already doing a good job of killing ourselves, we don’t need the Police to do it. Besides, they should know better.
The more I listened, the more I realized. The more I researched, the more I realized. I would ask questions, and would only get emotional responses and inferences based on no facts at all.
The more killing I saw, the more tragedy, the more savagery, the more violence, the more loss of life of a black man at the hands of another black man … the more I realized.
I haven’t slept well in the past few nights. Heartbreak weighs me down, rage flows through my veins, and tears fills my eyes. I watched my fellow officers get assassinated on live television, and the images of them laying on the ground are seared into my brain forever.
I couldn’t help but wonder if it had been me, a black man, a black cop, on TV, assassinated, laying on the ground dead … would my friends and family still think black lives mattered? Would my life have mattered? Would they make T-shirts in remembrance of me? Would they go on TV and protest violence that led to my death? Would they even make a Facebook post, or share a post in reference to my death?
I realized that they refuse to believe that most cops acknowledge that there are Bad cops who should have never been given a badge & gun. Cops who are chicken-shit and will shoot a cockroach if it crawls at them too fast. Cops who never worked in the hood and may be intimidated.
They don’t realize that most cops dread the thought of having to shoot someone. They never witness the turmoil and mental anguish that a cop goes through after having to kill someone to save his own life.
Instead, they believe that we are all blood-thirsty killers, because the media says so – even though the numbers prove otherwise.
I realized that they truly feel as if the death of cops will help people realize the false narrative that Black Lives Matter, when all it will really do is take their movement two steps backwards and label them a domestic terrorist. I recognize that some of these people, who say Black Lives Matter, are full of hate and racism.
Hate for cops, because of the false narrative that more black people are targeted and killed. Racism against white people, for a tragedy that began hundreds of years ago, when most of the white people they hate weren’t even born yet.
I understood that some in the African-American community’s idea of “Justice” is the prosecution of ANY and EVERY cop or white man that kills or is believed to have killed a black man, no matter what the circumstances are.
I realized the African American community refuses to look within itself to solve its major issues. Instead, they make excuses and look outside for solutions. I can see that a lot of people in the African-American community lead with hate, instead of love. Division instead of Unity. Turmoil and rioting, instead of Peace.
I realized that they have become the very entity that they claim they are fighting against.
I realized that the very reasons I became a cop, are the very reasons my own people hate me. I can see that now, in this toxic hateful racially charged political climate, I am now more likely to die … and it is still hard for me to understand … to this day.
“Above all, it’s about going home at the end of the shift … “
We couldn’t agree more.
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