Читать книгу The Injustice of Justice - Donald Grady II - Страница 6

“Assigning the police responsibility for the maintenance of order, the prevention of crime and the apprehension of criminals constitutes far too great a burden on far too few. Primary responsibility rests with families, the community and its individual members. The police can only facilitate and assist members of the community in the maintenance of order, and no more.”

—George Kelling

I couldn’t believe I was going to be late. It always seems to happen that way, doesn’t it? Whenever you have something important to do, something else comes up at the last minute and messes it all up. Not only was I late leaving the office, but it appeared as if everyone on the road had forgotten how to drive or was an intentional obstructionist. I was stuck behind this guy that couldn’t make up his mind whether to turn left, right, or go straight ahead. I really didn’t care what he did as long as he got out of the way. He was straddling the line and taking up both lanes. His left signal was flashing, yet he clearly hadn’t decided which way to go. Then he swung wide to the left, so I started to pass, and just as I did, he suddenly came back hard to the right. I laid on the horn, swerved half-way onto the shoulder, and had to slam on the brakes to avoid running right over the top of him. He never even looked back.

When I finally arrived at the Civic Center, I had to hustle up the stairs to the auditorium so I wouldn’t be too late. Man-oh-man, was I out of shape. I made a mental note to work on that. I’d run only a short distance and up one flight of stairs, and I thought I was going to die. I was going to have to do something to get back in shape. As much as I hated it, I knew I’d have to start running again. Running up those stairs hurt; I mean, it really sucked.

I was standing in the hall just outside the main entrance to the auditorium, huffing and puffing, half-bent over, trying to catch my breath, and straining to hear if they’d started the meeting yet. Someone suddenly opened the door. I jumped to attention as if nothing was wrong, trying with everything I had to appear as if I wasn’t breathing hard.

“Hi, Alan,” the person coming out of the auditorium said.

“Oh! Hi, Paul, how’s it going?” I said in as normal a voice as I could muster.

“Good… good,” he replied. He shuffled hurriedly down the hall, glancing momentarily over his shoulder as if he wasn’t sure I was okay. As soon as he disappeared around the corner, I bent over and started sucking serious wind again. I was still trying to compose myself when he came back. I quickly straightened up, turning my head from left to right as if I was looking for someone.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get inside. Maybe I can still find a good seat.”

“I think you’re out of luck there,” he said with a slight shake of his head. “There’s nothing but wall space left, and not a whole lot of that.”

He was right; I got to stand against the wall, next to the exit, elbow to elbow with about a hundred other people who seemed to have suffered similar misfortunes managing a timely arrival. Luckily for me, there weren’t a lot of people coming in or going out. Everyone pretty much stayed put.

The Mistress of Ceremonies concluded her opening remarks and started to introduce the chief as I wiggled to get comfortable. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she said, looking to her left and extending her hand in a gesture of welcome, “I’m happy to present Dr. Matthew Dylan, our new chief of police.”

The room was gently roused with appropriately polite applause. Then the chief strode across the stage. He must have been standing right at the entrance, but I hadn’t seen him until he stepped out onto the stage. Maybe it was because I was too involved in trying not to look too conspicuous while attempting to find a comfortable position against the wall.

Chief Dylan was an imposing figure, not altogether unlike the Matt Dillon I remembered from the old TV show Gunsmoke. The theme to Gunsmoke started turning over in my head.

“Matt Dillon,” I thought to myself. “She’s got to be kidding, right? What kind of person names their kid Matt Dylan?”

I’m not sure what I’d expected the new chief to look like. The last one was overweight, smoked, a lot, and wasn’t exactly known for his sense of fashion. I suppose I just thought this was going to be more of the same. I was a bit taken aback when I first saw him step out. It was immediately apparent that this was not going to be more of anything this city had already seen.

Chief Dylan—I still couldn’t believe his parents actually named him that—began by expressing his appreciation for being asked to speak. His voice was soft and deep, and it resonated with power and authority. “One of the more significant concerns of the American public today is the level and violent nature of crime across the country,” he said. The podium had been strategically positioned but was going to be nothing more than mere stage accoutrement for this guy. He rolled into motion, moving with a deliberate, stately gait, using his hands for emphasis as he spoke.

“Since the 1940s, incidents of crime in the United States have risen by more than 10,000 percent. Okay, that’s a slight exaggeration, but it makes the point. We’ve seen some encouraging decreases in the overall crime rate lately, particularly violent crime. However,” he continued, “these decreases will likely be short-lived and appear as nothing more than an insignificant blip on the histogram of escalating criminal activity. That is, unless we make some long overdue changes to current police practices and develop new and improved methodologies and processes for engaging in the activity we call policing.” He moved across the stage, drawing the attention of everyone in the auditorium with each step. He punctuated critical passages with dynamic voice inflections, tonal modulations, and animated hand and arm gestures.

“We’re witnessing an epidemic of juvenile violence of unparalleled proportions. Fear is becoming a debilitating anathema that is slowly and insidiously sucking the life out of a once-vibrant society. Many of us sit and watch these various manifestations of decay in disbelief, wondering when the police will get things under control. It seems as if we’re waiting for Glinda to wave a magic wand and create a solution that’ll eradicate all social disorder and criminality, or perhaps for a Messiah to lead us into a promising new era of peace, harmony and justice. But neither of these things is likely to happen… evvver!

“If you’re waiting for the police to take back the streets, here’s a little rain for your parade. The police can’t take back the streets. There’s not a single documented case in the history of policing of any police taking back any street, anywhere in America. There simply aren’t enough police anywhere in the world to do that.”

I was stunned, because the police are always talking about “taking back the streets.” It seems we’ve been fighting a war on crime for years and now he’s telling us we’re not going to get our streets back from the bad guys. This didn’t strike me as a good thing.

Dylan continued, “In 1981, President Reagan was shot while he was literally surrounded by people who had no other purpose in life but to protect him. Now, if the president of the United States can be shot while surrounded by people who are dedicated to protecting him, what makes any of you think that 900,000 police officers can protect a nation with a population of 308 million people from every incident of crime or disorder?”

Okay, that’s a good point, I thought.

“It’ll only be through cooperation and collaboration of the police as facilitators, and the public as interested, active participants, that our streets will be taken back. Police don’t take back the streets! People do! Only when you have had enough and combine your efforts with those of the police can any real progress be made in reclaiming our streets. Reclamation takes hard work. It requires dedication and commitment by all of us to improve the processes that will ultimately alter our social condition.”

The room hushed. It seemed as though everyone was a little shell-shocked. It wasn’t just me. I don’t believe anyone had an inkling of what to expect at this point.

“I used to believe, like many of you,” Chief Dylan continued, “that we were only responsible for ourselves. Remember the sixties? ‘Do your own thing.’ ‘If it feels good do it.’ I see some of you out there are nodding your heads. They weren’t just a bunch of feel-good slogans—they were the forces of a movement, and an entire generation became self-absorbed. Well, the sixties have come and gone, and I see things a little differently than I did back then. My rose-colored glasses have turned a smoky shade of gray and I realize there’s nothing I can do that won’t impact someone else. At the same time, there’s not a single action we, as a community, take collectively, regarding any one of us, that won’t also have an impact on the rest of us.

“We need to cultivate new levels of trust between the police and the public. As practitioners, we must admit to our shortcomings and commit to a higher set of ideals. As citizens, we must accept our responsibility as active participants in the effort to police our communities. Ultimately, we must all make a commitment to shoulder the burden for building our cities and bear the consequences for designing inappropriate initiatives.

“The police cannot address all social disorder issues independent of citizen involvement. We must instead accept the responsibility for our individual actions for the safety and security of our own persons and property, and for the collective welfare of our communities.

“We’ve been locked in a system of pure law enforcement for several decades now. Some of us have forgotten there’s a difference between policing and enforcing the law. Our emphasis is on catching the bad guys and putting them in jail. That’s a position regularly evidenced by the rallying and backslapping among officers when a cop makes a ‘good collar.’ Police officers readily recognize, as does the public, significant acts of heroism or the high profile criminal arrest. But officers who, in the absence of a fortuitous circumstance, dedicate themselves to solving community problems, helping a family in crisis, working with a misdirected young person or taking the time to attend a neighborhood meeting, rarely receive the same peer applause or community recognition. Action-and-adventure policing is glorified while officers demonstrating compassion, commitment, and altruism go largely unnoticed. Officers displaying such qualities are often ridiculed and accused of not doing ‘real’ police work.”

I found myself enjoying this immensely, but I had to keep shifting from leg to leg and repositioning myself against the wall to keep my extremities from falling asleep. I didn’t want to miss a word. The community was in turmoil because people held the perception that the police were insensitive and overly prone to violence. It looked as if that might be about to change.

I quickly scanned the room. It appeared that everyone was as into this as I was. People were generally nodding in affirmation and whispering their agreement to one another. The intensity in the room was palpable.

“Unfortunately, too few of us demonstrate any understanding of the complexity and connectivity of our social systems and our community relationships,” Chief Dylan went on, drawing the room in with every word. “It’s time to embrace our interdependence and recognize the significance each individual has in relationship to the whole. The more we acknowledge the complexity and interconnectedness of the events taking place around us, the greater will be our appreciation for the need to alter the nature and role of the police. Our willingness to work in concert with our criminal justice representatives to eliminate or mitigate circumstances conducive to crime and social disorder is our best hope to more effectively manage crime and to cultivate a more tranquil society.”

You could’ve heard a pin drop. Every eye in the place followed the chief’s every move. Heads continued nodding and people kept glancing toward one another with smiles of approval. It felt as if someone had turned up the heat in the auditorium. It was really warm and a bit uncomfortable. You know the feeling you get when you’ve been caught doing something you aren’t supposed to do? I felt as if the chief knew I was in the room and was directing everything he said right at me.

“Did you know that there’s been an increase in the use of alcohol and illicit substances over the past several years? There has also been a corresponding increase in the occurrence and severity of physical and psychological disorders affecting our nation’s young people. Did you know that?” he asked.

“No,” I thought to myself, “I didn’t know that.”

“I didn’t think so,” he said.

Now I knew he was talking to me.

“Our children are killing one another. They’re having babies and they’re no more than babies themselves. They’re using drugs, drinking alcohol and doing everything adults do without the benefit of having matured beyond their adolescence. In many cases, they haven’t even reached puberty yet.” Dylan paused, lowering his eyes as if he were lamenting some great personal loss. When he went on, his voice was different. It was soft, soothing, and measured as if he were reciting a gentle prayer.

“There was a time,” he said, “when the most important ideal in American society was family. We worked hard to take care of the family. We studied hard in school, not necessarily for ourselves, but so we wouldn’t embarrass the family or bring disrepute to the family name, but mostly to make our parents proud. Children were careful not to do things that would discredit themselves. Our behavior and that of our children was important because of the significance it bore to the respectability and maintenance of our good family name.

“It was also important that we respected and looked out for our friends and neighbors. It was a secondary ideal to family, but we cared deeply about our neighbors. We were willing to alter our behavior so that our neighbors wouldn’t feel compelled to tell our parents of some misdeed we’d engaged in. We felt a deep caring and a responsibility for our friends and neighbors. As we matured, we watched out for the neighbors’ children, providing them with a place to stay if their parents were late getting home. We scolded them for exhibiting behaviors we knew wouldn’t meet with their parents’ approval. We naturally watched each other’s homes and regularly talked to one another over the backyard fence. It wasn’t a burden, but rather a pleasure, to help a friend or neighbor. And it was an honorable thing to do.

“Lastly,” Dylan’s voice began to rise and change in timbre ever so slightly, “we thought of self. We did things for ourselves that we knew wouldn’t hurt others and were consistent with the values of the community. We had an awareness of the significance and importance of the rights of others and did everything we could to ensure we didn’t infringe on those rights.” He began to speak more forcefully, with greater passion and conviction. “Our happiness was dependent, to some degree at least, upon the happiness of our family, friends and neighbors. As children, we felt a sense of pride when someone said, ‘that’s So-and-So’s child.’ As parents, we enjoyed having someone comment on how well-behaved and well-mannered our children were.” He spoke as if he were talking to his closest friend. “There seemed to be an understanding regarding the importance of discipline,” he said, “not merely the punitive interpretation, but the concept of self-control and self-regulation. We seemed to be more giving, less selfish and more selfless.

“Over the years, we’ve witnessed an inversion of that model.” His voice rose in volume and intensity. “We no longer view family as the most important ideal. I fear we’re seeing shades of the sixties. You see, we now generally view the self as most important, followed by friends and neighbors. And now, peer relationships have emerged as a distinctly separate phenomenon that allows for the imposition of an external group’s values on others. This is particularly true for adolescents, and it affects them in ways that have had a dramatic and deleterious impact on our young people.” The chief’s voice thundered off the walls and he pounded his point home with his fist into an open palm.

“We’re preoccupied with self-interests. Our overriding concern is how what we’re doing makes us feel. What’s in it for me? If someone else benefits from what I do, how do I ensure I get my cut? Now, I’m not suggesting that this is reflective of all of society. Not everyone has become so hedonistic. There are exceptions, although not nearly as many as may be necessary, to once again reverse this destructive tendency.

“We must once again recognize and revere our families as important structures for building a healthy society. The family communicates, in a variety of ways, the values and expectations that help mold an individual’s sense of conscience. I’m not making any statement nor am I implying anything about the form ‘family’ must take. I’m merely asserting the importance of family to the building of a healthy community.

“You see, approximately 70 percent of the women in this country are working mothers with school-age children. More than twelve million of those are single and the heads of households. While the number of men who are single parents is smaller—only about three million—it’s the fastest growing family unit in America. More than three-quarters of the single working parents in this country experience conflicting demands between work and home. But what’s important here is that these single-parent households are significant family units.

“It hasn’t been demonstrated, at least not to my satisfaction, that a traditional structure is any more effective than any other family configuration. What has been demonstrated, however, is the significance of family as a tremendous force in determining how people ultimately behave. In the absence of a family structure that adequately serves a person’s communal needs, individuals will either create one or substitute an existing alternative structure to fill the void.

“The most salient example of familial substitution is the street gang. Gangs often act as surrogates for individuals who have limited family interaction and who are in need of the kind of caring and commitment one usually finds in a family. The gang is also the only social structure that has managed to reverse the social model I just mentioned. Ask any gang member what he or she is willing to do for the gang—their ‘family’—and they’ll invariably tell you they’re willing to die for it. Some of us aren’t even willing to dial 911. We just don’t want to get involved.

“‘What does this have to do with policing?’ you ask. Everything! Policing is community building. Over the years the public, as well as most police, have come to believe that what the police do is law enforcement. Well, that’s part of it. But that’s only one small part of what we do. The larger part of the job is helping to build community, to prevent criminal incidents, and to ensure the public peace and tranquility. Merely catching bad guys and locking them up isn’t enough. We have to do what’s necessary to stop people from becoming bad guys in the first place. We have to create long-term solutions that deal with the root causes of a problem and not just its symptoms. Where does that start? It starts with our children and providing them with safe, secure places to learn and grow mentally, spiritually, and physically.

“Our children find themselves, with ever greater frequency, in situations where, for one reason or another, their parents aren’t around. They’re being asked to raise themselves. There are increasing numbers of ‘latchkey kids,’ situations where both parents work outside of the home and single-parent households.

“Children need to feel they belong. They need a sense of family. Having a nice home, good clothes and eating regularly isn’t enough. In the absence of a strong family unit, children look for a substitute. It may be attaching themselves to a close friend, a group of friends, or a gang, or perhaps the child will withdraw, learning to depend and trust only him or herself. Children left to their own devices will find ways to take care of and entertain themselves, sometimes in ways that cause them significant distress. This can lead to greater difficulties within the society if it’s not appropriately dealt with early on. Prevention, not apprehension, that’s the key!

“Our children have to feel more secure in the home than they do on the street. There must be a willingness on the part of the community to accept more responsibility in the raising of our children. It really does ‘take a village to raise a child.’

“Children are getting more and more information from sources outside the family structure. That makes family interaction and community even more critical. Our children are going to make mistakes. There will be instances where a child will struggle. We must be willing to show compassion and forgive their transgressions. We have to nurture them to ensure they can become useful, productive citizens. Indeed, we must be willing to do the same for every member of our society.

“We deserve better than we have been willing to give during the past several decades. Our children deserve better! Policing is an issue that requires the commitment and active involvement of every member of the community. We can’t afford to treat each other as if we’re disposable. To make our communities strong, we must cultivate a greater understanding and compassion as well as employ acceptable models of discipline. Our society must make a new commitment to justice and recognize that justice and incarceration are not synonymous. Policing took a wrong turn a number of years ago, but we have the ability to put it back on track. This is a task for every member of society. To determine where we need to go, we have to look at where we’ve been and where we are, and then use the knowledge of how we got here to improve our chances for the future.

“The better police practices of the future will focus on our greater humanity. We must learn again to believe in others, to learn not merely to accept or tolerate our differences, but to respect and revere them. We have to see each other as resources to be used, not abused, for the collective good of our communities. The system should be about constructing and maintaining socially healthy environments. It takes a critical mass of the population working in unity to produce truly safe and serene living conditions.

“In a society predicated on the preservation of rights for the individual, we must constantly reinforce and develop our relationships with others. We all have the right to freedom and tranquility, to work and free expression. But with every right comes an accompanying obligation. Each of us is therefore obligated to the other. Each one of us can make a difference. We must accept, however, that responsibility not only begins with us, but remains with us. It cannot be relinquished or transferred.

“We stand on the precipice of an intellectual revolution. Our police departments must be fully integrated into our communities, with citizens and professional police personnel working side by side to solve the crime and disorder issues facing our society. The English philosopher Sir Francis Bacon once said, ‘It would be an unsound fancy and self-contradictory to expect that things which have never yet been done can be except by means which have never yet been tried.’ It’s time to try something new. There are smatterings of police professionals who are willing to champion new and innovative concepts and who are no longer satisfied with the status quo. As these people go about their jobs within the criminal justice system, we can only hope their passion and enthusiasm will infect others. But there must also be passion within the community. There must be a fire for justice, for peace, for what’s right, for everyone.” With that, the chief stepped back, paused a moment and said, “I want to thank each and every one of you for being here tonight. Thank you for listening.”

The room came spontaneously to its feet. Thunderous applause went on and on. Chief Dylan stood there acknowledging the crowd, humbly accepting the ovation. I was beside myself, but I didn’t think I was alone. When the cheering subsided, the Mistress of Ceremonies told the crowd that the chief had agreed to answer a few questions. The audience wasted no time getting to the issues that had been plaguing the community these past years.

A young African-American gentleman stood and posed the first question. “Chief Dylan,” he began, “as you know, the police department has a poor reputation for being fair or objective. Many of us feel—strongly, I might add—that the practice of racial profiling is prominent and that minorities are subjected to unfair treatment. The police have been involved in shootings, beatings, and unreasonable searches and arrests. Also, it seems that since 9/11, profiling has been accepted as necessary and good. Could you give us your thoughts on this?”

The chief walked around to the front of the podium and looked directly at the young man. “Profiling is a real point of contention with me, so forgive me, but this isn’t likely to be a short answer. You see,” he said, “the police may be the most highly scrutinized and criticized members of the criminal justice community, and they may also be the group with the greatest potential for abuse within the system. Unfortunately, there are officers who have engaged in behaviors that don’t serve the people or the profession well. The media is glutted with examples where people have witnessed officers using excessive or unnecessary force. And stories of corruption, malfeasance and cover-ups abound.

“Part of the problem is that, when police executives are confronted with police improprieties, they tend to dismiss them as isolated incidents. But the last time I checked, the word ‘isolated’ meant something that occurs only once or at least very seldom, apart from normal events. The information that’s available regarding police impropriety refutes the notion that these are somehow isolated incidents. I’m not even accounting for all the things you, as citizens, never see or hear about.

“Profiling would be one of those ‘isolated incidents’ you’ve heard about. It’s a reality. It’s practiced in one form or another around the globe. And not just in policing, but in every walk of life. However, it has a more highly visible manifestation of social distrust in the world of policing. Our societies lead us to feel certain ways about particular groups or classes of people. We then attribute certain characteristics or attributes to that group, evoking certain predictable and socially conditioned responses.

“Our perceptions about various groups or classes allow us to use our feelings as criteria for suspicion. I don’t think many of you would deny that people of color, generally speaking, are—by the dominant culture, anyway—thought to be more likely to engage in criminal activity than non-minorities. European-Americans casually accept as fact that African-Americans and Hispanics are more likely to engage in behaviors considered inappropriate than their European-American counterparts. Now, you may not personally subscribe to this belief, but it’s difficult to deny that, on the whole, non-minorities tend to be suspicious that people of color, especially in areas where,” he held up his fingers as if making a quotation sign, “‘they don’t belong,’ are up to no good.

“Much minority targeting is circular in nature. The police target groups they believe are likely to have criminal records. There are currently more minorities per capita with criminal records; therefore, more minorities are targeted. Also, poor people are targeted, and more minorities tend to be poor. These circumstances contribute to racial profiling and the assumption that minorities are more likely to be involved in crime.

“I read an article about profiling the other day. In it was a statement that police officers are trained to investigate things that are outside the norm. Officers are trained to look for suspicious circumstances and to take action. For example, an officer passes a building where the lights are normally left on and the windows closed. Then one night he finds the lights off and a ground-level window open. This could be a suspicious circumstance, and a good officer will check it out.

“The difficulty for me is that police officers are doing the same thing with people. If officers see a person of color in a neighborhood where minorities aren’t known to live, they generally believe the circumstance gives them the right to detain, question, and search the person. The rationale is that it’s a suspicious circumstance and they have to find out if something is wrong. You see, they’ve been trained to check it out.

“When I was coming up through the ranks, we were taught that black and Latino males were the biggest potential drug couriers. We were told what age to look for, the types of vehicles they were likely to drive, and what we should look for once we got inside the car. All the profiles focused on people of color. We were instructed to use ‘pretextual stops’ to make contact, that is, to find any little thing to justify the stop, like a broken tail light, failure to use a turn signal, license plate lamp out—anything.

“We can’t allow race to be a motivation for stopping people. Using color as a suspicious circumstance is fundamentally incongruent with the principles of a democratic society. Color should never be considered suspicious and it shouldn’t be accepted as a basis for stopping a vehicle or an individual. It should never be a criterion for investigating a person to determine if criminal activity is afoot. The very term ‘racial profiling’ means that little other than race is considered. There are legitimate methods of profiling, but when you’re talking about racial profiling, you’re talking about profiling ethnicity. That’s racist and it’s discriminatory. Call it what you like, ‘A rose by any other name is just as sweet.’ If it’s ‘racial profiling,’ it’s racism. It has no place in policing, the justice system, or a democratic society.

“Unfortunately, the practice has been institutionalized, and the very nature of institutional racism is that the people involved aren’t even aware they might be doing something wrong. We unwittingly teach our children every day not to trust people of color. They watch us cross the street when an African-American approaches, or we withdraw in the elevator when a member of a minority gets on, or we put on a dinner party and don’t invite anyone of color. What we’re seeing in policing is the manifestation of an overall attitude of racism and paranoia in this society.

“I’ve listened to colleagues say things like, ‘I’m white so I can’t know exactly what it’s like,’ and then dismiss the issue because they thought someone followed them in a department store once or had their bags searched at an airport. I’m a little disturbed at what I see as a lack of understanding about the seriousness of racial profiling and the tremendous impact it has on the various targeted groups. To suggest that, because you’ve been followed through a department store or had your luggage examined by airport security once, is remotely equivalent to being racially profiled is absurd. It minimizes the seriousness of the activity and its associated consequences. And, of course, if you’re white, you can’t know what it’s like. But, I’d submit that it doesn’t matter if you or I have an understanding of what it’s like. What we need to understand is that it isn’t right. For any of us to diminish the significance of racial profiling because we can recount a story about having had our bags searched at an airport does a disservice to the people who experience the degradation of profiling on a daily basis.

“Everyone in this city is aware of the fact that police and minority relations are not good. That relationship has been strained for far too long. Each side blames the other. Officers suggest the poor relationship results from people of color not understanding policing in the same way as non-minorities.” The room groaned in disbelief. Chief Dylan continued despite the noise. “Various members of the community, however, point out that minorities seem to be targeted for increased police scrutiny. Having been in police work for more than 20 years, I can safely say the latter is probably the more correct position.

“I’ll always be open and honest with you. I’ll never cover for an inappropriate police action or an officer who violates the principles by which we operate. I’ll look closely at the practice of racial profiling and minority targeting within the city and give special attention to reviewing police activities in areas of the city dominated by minorities.

“Racial profiling is a despicable practice at best and it violates the rights of the citizens who are subjected to it. Simply put, it’s nothing less than discrimination. When police officers use race as a rationale to stop a person, we have a serious problem. Race should never be substituted for reasonable suspicion. It’s altogether unreasonable to believe that because a person belongs to a particular ethnic group that he or she is likely to be engaged in criminal activity. It’s unreasonable and completely unacceptable to subject people of color to disparate treatments and indignities because of race. I can assure you I’ll not tolerate such activities by anyone working for this agency.”

A woman from the other side of the auditorium yelled, “That’s not going to make you very popular with your cops!”

The audience began to murmur again, and it was obvious that the general consensus was that she was right. Chief Dylan responded by saying, “First of all, they’re not just my cops; they’re yours, too. Secondly, there are some exceptionally fine people working in the department. There are also some who require additional training and education, and others who require termination.”

Someone else called out, “I know that’s right!”

“I believe, however, that the good officers will support the fair and just adjudication of grievances against others involved in misconduct. I also believe they’ll work to prove they’re worthy of representing the citizens of this community. We’ll all work to build a strong, responsive, compassionate police organization you can be proud of.”

There was another enthusiastic round of applause. When the ovation died down, someone called out another question.

“Chief, you said in your remarks that we had to assume responsibility for policing in the community. Isn’t that what we pay you for?”

I couldn’t see who asked the question, but apparently Dylan did. He started to smile, moved a little to his left, and said, “A young woman rushed into my office one morning. She was extremely angry, frustrated, and on the verge of tears. Standing directly in front of me, she poked the top of my desk with her index finger and exclaimed, ‘My bicycle was stolen and where were you?’ I leaned back in my chair and thought for a moment. Then I said, ‘Your bicycle was stolen… where were you?’ The people in the room thought that was funny.

Chief Dylan continued. “This woman held the expectation that the police should take care of her property so, when her bicycle came up missing, she blamed us. We have to stop looking for someone to blame and begin looking for solutions. There’s no reasonable expectation that any number of police officers can prevent all incidents of crime, let alone protect a particular unidentified bicycle.” Light laughter and chuckling broke out in the room again. Dylan went on to say, “Each of us must assume responsibility for taking care of ourselves and our property. After all, who should be more responsible for you than you?

“Earlier, I told you that President Ronald Reagan had been shot while he was surrounded by people who had no other purpose in life except to protect him. So, what makes you believe that the number of officers we have in this city can protect every visitor or resident from every incident or circumstance of crime? We cannot use the police as surrogates for dealing with our social disorder issues. It takes all of us, working together, with each of us accepting responsibility for the state of our community.

“The young lady and I talked about how her bicycle was stolen. She’d done everything wrong if she wanted to keep her bicycle from being taken. We all have a responsibility to protect ourselves and our property, and that’s policing.”

By this time I couldn’t contain myself. I raised my hand and a man with a microphone trotted over.

“Chief Dylan,” I said, “I don’t understand the criminal justice system. It seems that more and more people are going to jail. Some are going to jail for offenses that appear to warrant a different treatment. How are we to make any sense of this?”

The chief glanced around the room before he allowed his eyes to settle on me. “We’ve let passion overrule reason,” he responded. “If we, or someone we care about, get injured as a result of someone else committing a crime, we become preoccupied with how we’ll acquire that proverbial pound of flesh. In so doing, we forget that the issues that induced or allowed the offender to commit the act in the first place still exist and will likely contribute to another offense unless or until the circumstances have either been eliminated or substantially mitigated. Approximately 70 percent of the people currently in prison have been there before and will likely return after they get out.

“I should point out that the vast majority of people now incarcerated are being held for non-violent offenses. The system should be concerned with protecting society from violent offenders, not warehousing social miscreants who pose no real danger to others or who could benefit from rehabilitation in a less restrictive environment. Our resources would be better used to help these individuals become useful, productive members of society and by requiring them to make restitution to those they’ve harmed.

“There’s a misconception that rehabilitation doesn’t work. That simply isn’t true. It is true that certain rehabilitative efforts have failed. Unfortunately, there were some early attempts at rehabilitation that were in large part nothing more than feel-good programs for the people who designed them. Some approximated mere shams and offered nothing of value to the inmate or to society. We simply must recognize that long-term incarceration for non-violent offenders within the current system is out of sync with the reintegration of offenders into the mainstream of society. If you’re confused, don’t feel like the Lone Ranger. So are a lot of us.”

The moderator stepped in and told us that the next question would be the last. She then pre-empted a further question from the floor by asking one herself.

“Chief,” she asked, “what are the educational requirements for police officers in the city? Also, given the fact that you have a Ph.D., what do you believe the standard should be?”

“The current requirement is a high school education or a GED. This, however, appears to be inconsistent with the nature of the position and its accompanying duties and responsibilities. The statutes police work with every day were written for people with at least three years of education beyond the undergraduate level. It’s unreasonable to expect an individual with a high school education or a GED to read, understand, interpret, and apply the statutes within a split second when attorneys take weeks—even months—to review their decisions and attack the basis upon which those decisions were made.

“Let me say this as a final note. The traditional policing model has been bastardized and now represents nothing more than a prescription for the enforcement of the law. We simply must return to the basic tenets of policing, which incorporate a broad base of responsibilities for tending to the ills of our society while increasing the standards for those attending to the complexities of the profession.

“As a society, we must hold ourselves accountable for the actions of the police. Ultimately, everything that happens within our institutions of policing is the responsibility of the public. If the finger of blame is to be pointed, one should be facing a mirror. Reality, right now, is very much out of line with our expectations. The ways we expect things to be in the world of policing, and the way they actually are, are two different things. We refuse somehow to see what we really see! While we’re doing somewhat better in reducing the incidence of crime during the past few years, we’re not nearly as effective as we could be. Things occur around us every day that we simply ignore or pretend not to be affected by. We’ve lost our sense of community, of responsibility to one another, and our greater sense of family.

“What conditions would have to exist before you’d commit a crime? How can an offender overcome the effects of a system designed to keep violators repressed? If bad guys can’t interact with good people in society, how do we get them to behave better? When do we as a society accept that there’s a place in our culture for punishment, but also for compassion? The greater punishment, it seems, is to have people accept responsibility for their actions, provide remuneration to their victims, and become useful, productive members of society—not to merely accept confinement to a cell.

“Only through cooperation and collaboration—with the police as facilitators and the public as interested, active participants—do our streets get taken back. Remember, the police don’t take back the streets! You people do! Only when you’ve had enough, and you begin to work with the police, can we make any real progress toward taking back our streets. You and I have to accept that we are, in fact, our brother’s keeper.” He stepped back.

There was another energetic ovation and while we were still clapping, the man standing next to me leaned over and said, “Well, what do you think?”

I answered, “I’m really glad I didn’t rush all the way here only to find a stereotypical good ole’ boy drawling and drooling all over the podium.”

“Me, too,” he said, smiling as if he’d just gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Leaning toward his ear, I said, “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard another chief—or any cop, for that matter—say the kind of things I heard come out of this guy’s mouth tonight. Are you sure he’s a cop?”

Chuckling, the man said, “He has some interesting views regarding police community partnerships, doesn’t he? Who’s ever heard of a police chief who’s really willing to hold the cops accountable or who’s willing to share information about it with the public? You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“I know. He’s bound to catch some flak about saying he believes racial profiling is going on and that he won’t tolerate it. Wait until that hits the morning paper! The cops are going to be up in arms over that one.”

“I like him,” he said, “and if he proves true to his word, I’ll stand by him to the end. By the way, my name’s Jesse Harbinger. What’s yours?”

He extended his hand. I took it and, giving it a firm but gentle pump, I said, “I’m Alan Pearson. It’s good to meet you, Jesse.”

“You too, Alan.”

“Jesse?” a call came from halfway across the room. He looked over his shoulder and nodded, smiling.

“Duty calls,” he said, “my wife… gotta go. Hope to see you around, Alan.” With that he disappeared into the crowd.

I started moving toward the line of people waiting to get a word with the chief.

I was thinking of how he talked about integrating the police and involving citizens in law-and-order issues. My mind was racing at light speed.

I was brought back to reality as the line inched forward again. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that talking to this guy for a couple of minutes wouldn’t cut it. So I let some people go before me. I wanted to get as much face time as I could.

The line kept getting longer and longer. So I started quietly moving with the flow again, wrapped up in my own thoughts. When I finally got to the chief, I couldn’t believe how tall he was. Displaying a full set of very white teeth, he reached out and shook my hand. I can’t for the life of me figure out why the first thing that came out of my mouth was, “How tall are you?” What a dope! How tall are you?!

His smile broadened and he said, “You waited in line so that you could ask me how tall I am? I’m six-five.”

“Uh… no, I just, I just mean, well, you know. No! How could you know; I don’t even know what I mean.” We both laughed and his entire face lit up. I could see the laughter in his eyes. All I could think to say was, “I really enjoyed your speech.”

“Well, thank you very much, ah… I don’t believe I caught your name, Mr.…”

“Pearson,” I said, “Alan Pearson.”

“Mr. Pearson.”

“Please, call me Alan.”

“Okay, Alan it is.”

“Chief Dylan,” I said, “I realize now is not a good time, but would it be possible for us to get together sometime so I can ask you a few questions?”

Without hesitation, he said, “Certainly.” He reached into an inside coat pocket and pulled out an iPhone. He played with it for a few moments then said, “When were you thinking would be good?”

“Whatever’s good for you,” I responded.

“Will next Thursday morning at eleven work for you?”

“That would be great,” I answered.

“If something should come up and either of us can’t make it for some reason, we’ll just give a call, okay? Do you have a card?” he asked.

“Yes, I do,” I said, trying to find my card case. At that same instant, he was handing me one of his.

He pointed to the second telephone number and said, “This is the best number to reach me.” He looked me in the face and said, “Thursday, then?”

“Yes, Thursday,” I replied. We shook hands again, he smiled, and when I left him he was greeting one of my Chamber brothers. The guy was wearing about a dozen brightly colored buttons and pins all over his lapels. I couldn’t help smiling. Next Thursday it is.