police culture & training, including former police speak out

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  • This topic has 22 replies, 4 voices, and was last updated 4 years ago by wv.
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  • #116548
    wv
    Participant

    Former Baltimore cop, talks candidly. I’m surprised I’ve never heard of this guy.
    ===============

    #116550
    wv
    Participant

    Of course, Rogan had him on:

    #116551
    wv
    Participant

    At 6:15 mark of the Rogan vid. Check out what Wood says about stop-and-frisk Stats.
    “The stats are junk”

    w
    v

    #116552
    wv
    Participant

    Oh my goodness. Stick with it for the 18-19 minute mark. Excellent stuff.

    w
    v

    #116556
    zn
    Moderator

    Oh my goodness. Stick with it for the 18-19 minute mark. Excellent stuff.

    w
    v

    Another WV find. That’s good stuff.

    #116626
    zn
    Moderator

    Confessions of a Former Bastard Cop

    link https://medium.com/@OfcrACab/confessions-of-a-former-bastard-cop-bb14d17bc759

    I was a police officer for nearly ten years and I was a bastard. We all were.
    This essay has been kicking around in my head for years now and I’ve never felt confident enough to write it. It’s a time in my life I’m ashamed of. It’s a time that I hurt people and, through inaction, allowed others to be hurt. It’s a time that I acted as a violent agent of capitalism and white supremacy. Under the guise of public safety, I personally ruined people’s lives but in so doing, made the public no safer… so did the family members and close friends of mine who also bore the badge alongside me.
    But enough is enough.
    The reforms aren’t working. Incrementalism isn’t happening. Unarmed Black, indigenous, and people of color are being killed by cops in the streets and the police are savagely attacking the people protesting these murders.
    American policing is a thick blue tumor strangling the life from our communities and if you don’t believe it when the poor and the marginalized say it, if you don’t believe it when you see cops across the country shooting journalists with less-lethal bullets and caustic chemicals, maybe you’ll believe it when you hear it straight from the pig’s mouth.

    WHY AM I WRITING THIS

    As someone who went through the training, hiring, and socialization of a career in law enforcement, I wanted to give a first-hand account of why I believe police officers are the way they are. Not to excuse their behavior, but to explain it and to indict the structures that perpetuate it.
    I believe that if everyone understood how we’re trained and brought up in the profession, it would inform the demands our communities should be making of a new way of community safety. If I tell you how we were made, I hope it will empower you to unmake us.
    One of the other reasons I’ve struggled to write this essay is that I don’t want to center the conversation on myself and my big salty boo-hoo feelings about my bad choices. It’s a toxic white impulse to see atrocities and think “How can I make this about me?” So, I hope you’ll take me at my word that this account isn’t meant to highlight me, but rather the hundred thousand of me in every city in the country. It’s about the structure that made me (that I chose to pollute myself with) and it’s my meager contribution to the cause of radical justice.

    YES, ALL COPS ARE BASTARDS

    I was a police officer in a major metropolitan area in California with a predominantly poor, non-white population (with a large proportion of first-generation immigrants). One night during briefing, our watch commander told us that the city council had requested a new zero tolerance policy. Against murderers, drug dealers, or child predators?
    No, against homeless people collecting cans from recycling bins.
    See, the city had some kickback deal with the waste management company where waste management got paid by the government for our expected tonnage of recycling. When homeless people “stole” that recycling from the waste management company, they were putting that cheaper contract in peril. So, we were to arrest as many recyclers as we could find.
    Even for me, this was a stupid policy and I promptly blew Sarge off. But a few hours later, Sarge called me over to assist him. He was detaining a 70 year old immigrant who spoke no English, who he’d seen picking a coke can out of a trash bin. He ordered me to arrest her for stealing trash. I said, “Sarge, c’mon, she’s an old lady.” He said, “I don’t give a shit. Hook her up, that’s an order.” And… I did. She cried the entire way to the station and all through the booking process. I couldn’t even comfort her because I didn’t speak Spanish. I felt disgusting but I was ordered to make this arrest and I wasn’t willing to lose my job for her.
    If you’re tempted to feel sympathy for me, don’t. I used to happily hassle the homeless under other circumstances. I researched obscure penal codes so I could arrest people in homeless encampments for lesser known crimes like “remaining too close to railroad property” (369i of the California Penal Code). I used to call it “planting warrant seeds” since I knew they wouldn’t make their court dates and we could arrest them again and again for warrant violations.
    We used to have informal contests for who could cite or arrest someone for the weirdest law. DUI on a bicycle, non-regulation number of brooms on your tow truck (27700(a)(1) of the California Vehicle Code)… shit like that. For me, police work was a logic puzzle for arresting people, regardless of their actual threat to the community. As ashamed as I am to admit it, it needs to be said: stripping people of their freedom felt like a game to me for many years.
    I know what you’re going to ask: did I ever plant drugs? Did I ever plant a gun on someone? Did I ever make a false arrest or file a false report? Believe it or not, the answer is no. Cheating was no fun, I liked to get my stats the “legitimate” way. But I knew officers who kept a little baggie of whatever or maybe a pocket knife that was a little too big in their war bags (yeah, we called our dufflebags “war bags”…). Did I ever tell anybody about it? No I did not. Did I ever confess my suspicions when cocaine suddenly showed up in a gang member’s jacket? No I did not.
    In fact, let me tell you about an extremely formative experience: in my police academy class, we had a clique of around six trainees who routinely bullied and harassed other students: intentionally scuffing another trainee’s shoes to get them in trouble during inspection, sexually harassing female trainees, cracking racist jokes, and so on. Every quarter, we were to write anonymous evaluations of our squadmates. I wrote scathing accounts of their behavior, thinking I was helping keep bad apples out of law enforcement and believing I would be protected. Instead, the academy staff read my complaints to them out loud and outed me to them and never punished them, causing me to get harassed for the rest of my academy class. That’s how I learned that even police leadership hates rats. That’s why no one is “changing things from the inside.” They can’t, the structure won’t allow it.
    And that’s the point of what I’m telling you. Whether you were my sergeant, legally harassing an old woman, me, legally harassing our residents, my fellow trainees bullying the rest of us, or “the bad apples” illegally harassing “shitbags”, we were all in it together. I knew cops that pulled women over to flirt with them. I knew cops who would pepper spray sleeping bags so that homeless people would have to throw them away. I knew cops that intentionally provoked anger in suspects so they could claim they were assaulted. I was particularly good at winding people up verbally until they lashed out so I could fight them. Nobody spoke out. Nobody stood up. Nobody betrayed the code.
    None of us protected the people (you) from bad cops.
    This is why “All cops are bastards.” Even your uncle, even your cousin, even your mom, even your brother, even your best friend, even your spouse, even me. Because even if they wouldn’t Do The Thing themselves, they will almost never rat out another officer who Does The Thing, much less stop it from happening.

    BASTARD 101

    I could write an entire book of the awful things I’ve done, seen done, and heard others bragging about doing. But, to me, the bigger question is “How did it get this way?”. While I was a police officer in a city 30 miles from where I lived, many of my fellow officers were from the community and treated their neighbors just as badly as I did. While every cop’s individual biases come into play, it’s the profession itself that is toxic, and it starts from day 1 of training.
    Every police academy is different but all of them share certain features: taught by old cops, run like a paramilitary bootcamp, strong emphasis on protecting yourself more than anyone else. The majority of my time in the academy was spent doing aggressive physical training and watching video after video after video of police officers being murdered on duty.
    I want to highlight this: nearly everyone coming into law enforcement is bombarded with dash cam footage of police officers being ambushed and killed. Over and over and over. Colorless VHS mortality plays, cops screaming for help over their radios, their bodies going limp as a pair of tail lights speed away into a grainy black horizon. In my case, with commentary from an old racist cop who used to brag about assaulting Black Panthers.
    To understand why all cops are bastards, you need to understand one of the things almost every training officer told me when it came to using force:
    “I’d rather be judged by 12 than carried by 6.”
    Meaning, “I’ll take my chances in court rather than risk getting hurt”. We’re able to think that way because police unions are extremely overpowered and because of the generous concept of Qualified Immunity, a legal theory which says a cop generally can’t be held personally liable for mistakes they make doing their job in an official capacity.
    When you look at the actions of the officers who killed George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, David McAtee, Mike Brown, Tamir Rice, Philando Castile, Eric Garner, or Freddie Gray, remember that they, like me, were trained to recite “I’d rather be judged by 12” as a mantra. Even if Mistakes Were Made™, the city (meaning the taxpayers, meaning you) pays the settlement, not the officer.
    Once police training has – through repetition, indoctrination, and violent spectacle – promised officers that everyone in the world is out to kill them, the next lesson is that your partners are the only people protecting you. Occasionally, this is even true: I’ve had encounters turn on me rapidly to the point I legitimately thought I was going to die, only to have other officers come and turn the tables.
    One of the most important thought leaders in law enforcement is Col. Dave Grossman, a “killologist” who wrote an essay called “Sheep, Wolves, and Sheepdogs”. Cops are the sheepdogs, bad guys are the wolves, and the citizens are the sheep (!). Col. Grossman makes sure to mention that to a stupid sheep, sheepdogs look more like wolves than sheep, and that’s why they dislike you.
    This “they hate you for protecting them and only I love you, only I can protect you” tactic is familiar to students of abuse. It’s what abusers do to coerce their victims into isolation, pulling them away from friends and family and ensnaring them in the abuser’s toxic web. Law enforcement does this too, pitting the officer against civilians. “They don’t understand what you do, they don’t respect your sacrifice, they just want to get away with crimes. You’re only safe with us.”
    I think the Wolves vs. Sheepdogs dynamic is one of the most important elements as to why officers behave the way they do. Every single second of my training, I was told that criminals were not a legitimate part of their community, that they were individual bad actors, and that their bad actions were solely the result of their inherent criminality. Any concept of systemic trauma, generational poverty, or white supremacist oppression was either never mentioned or simply dismissed. After all, most people don’t steal, so anyone who does isn’t “most people,” right? To us, anyone committing a crime deserved anything that happened to them because they broke the “social contract.” And yet, it was never even a question as to whether the power structure above them was honoring any sort of contract back.
    Understand: Police officers are part of the state monopoly on violence and all police training reinforces this monopoly as a cornerstone of police work, a source of honor and pride. Many cops fantasize about getting to kill someone in the line of duty, egged on by others that have. One of my training officers told me about the time he shot and killed a mentally ill homeless man wielding a big stick. He bragged that he “slept like a baby” that night. Official training teaches you how to be violent effectively and when you’re legally allowed to deploy that violence, but “unofficial training” teaches you to desire violence, to expand the breadth of your violence without getting caught, and to erode your own compassion for desperate people so you can justify punitive violence against them.

    HOW TO BE A BASTARD

    I have participated in some of these activities personally, others are ones I either witnessed personally or heard officers brag about openly. Very, very occasionally, I knew an officer who was disciplined or fired for one of these things.

    Police officers will lie about the law, about what’s illegal, or about what they can legally do to you in order to manipulate you into doing what they want.
    Police officers will lie about feeling afraid for their life to justify a use of force after the fact.
    Police officers will lie and tell you they’ll file a police report just to get you off their back.
    Police officers will lie that your cooperation will “look good for you” in court, or that they will “put in a good word for you with the DA.” The police will never help you look good in court.
    Police officers will lie about what they see and hear to access private property to conduct unlawful searches.
    Police officers will lie and say your friend already ratted you out, so you might as well rat them back out. This is almost never true.
    Police officers will lie and say you’re not in trouble in order to get you to exit a location or otherwise make an arrest more convenient for them.
    Police officers will lie and say that they won’t arrest you if you’ll just “be honest with them” so they know what really happened.
    Police officers will lie about their ability to seize the property of friends and family members to coerce a confession.
    Police officers will write obviously bullshit tickets so that they get time-and-a-half overtime fighting them in court.
    Police officers will search places and containers you didn’t consent to and later claim they were open or “smelled like marijuana”.
    Police officers will threaten you with a more serious crime they can’t prove in order to convince you to confess to the lesser crime they really want you for.
    Police officers will employ zero tolerance on races and ethnicities they dislike and show favor and lenience to members of their own group.
    Police officers will use intentionally extra-painful maneuvers and holds during an arrest to provoke “resistance” so they can further assault the suspect.
    Some police officers will plant drugs and weapons on you, sometimes to teach you a lesson, sometimes if they kill you somewhere away from public view.
    Some police officers will assault you to intimidate you and threaten to arrest you if you tell anyone.
    A non-trivial number of police officers will steal from your house or vehicle during a search.
    A non-trivial number of police officers commit intimate partner violence and use their status to get away with it.
    A non-trivial number of police officers use their position to entice, coerce, or force sexual favors from vulnerable people.
    If you take nothing else away from this essay, I want you to tattoo this onto your brain forever: if a police officer is telling you something, it is probably a lie designed to gain your compliance.
    Do not talk to cops and never, ever believe them. Do not “try to be helpful” with cops. Do not assume they are trying to catch someone else instead of you. Do not assume what they are doing is “important” or even legal. Under no circumstances assume any police officer is acting in good faith.
    Also, and this is important, do not talk to cops.
    I just remembered something, do not talk to cops.
    Checking my notes real quick, something jumped out at me:
    Do
    not
    fucking
    talk
    to
    cops.
    Ever.
    Say, “I don’t answer questions,” and ask if you’re free to leave; if so, leave. If not, tell them you want your lawyer and that, per the Supreme Court, they must terminate questioning. If they don’t, file a complaint and collect some badges for your mantle.

    DO THE BASTARDS EVER HELP?

    Reading the above, you may be tempted to ask whether cops ever do anything good. And the answer is, sure, sometimes. In fact, most officers I worked with thought they were usually helping the helpless and protecting the safety of innocent people.
    During my tenure in law enforcement, I protected women from domestic abusers, arrested cold-blooded murderers and child molesters, and comforted families who lost children to car accidents and other tragedies. I helped connect struggling people in my community with local resources for food, shelter, and counseling. I deescalated situations that could have turned violent and talked a lot of people down from making the biggest mistake of their lives. I worked with plenty of officers who were individually kind, bought food for homeless residents, or otherwise showed care for their community.
    The question is this: did I need a gun and sweeping police powers to help the average person on the average night? The answer is no. When I was doing my best work as a cop, I was doing mediocre work as a therapist or a social worker. My good deeds were listening to people failed by the system and trying to unite them with any crumbs of resources the structure was currently denying them.
    It’s also important to note that well over 90% of the calls for service I handled were reactive, showing up well after a crime had taken place. We would arrive, take a statement, collect evidence (if any), file the report, and onto the next caper. Most “active” crimes we stopped were someone harmless possessing or selling a small amount of drugs. Very, very rarely would we stop something dangerous in progress or stop something from happening entirely. The closest we could usually get was seeing someone running away from the scene of a crime, but the damage was still done.
    And consider this: my job as a police officer required me to be a marriage counselor, a mental health crisis professional, a conflict negotiator, a social worker, a child advocate, a traffic safety expert, a sexual assault specialist, and, every once in awhile, a public safety officer authorized to use force, all after only a 1000 hours of training at a police academy. Does the person we send to catch a robber also need to be the person we send to interview a rape victim or document a fender bender? Should one profession be expected to do all that important community care (with very little training) all at the same time?
    To put this another way: I made double the salary most social workers made to do a fraction of what they could do to mitigate the causes of crimes and desperation. I can count very few times my monopoly on state violence actually made our citizens safer, and even then, it’s hard to say better-funded social safety nets and dozens of other community care specialists wouldn’t have prevented a problem before it started.
    Armed, indoctrinated (and dare I say, traumatized) cops do not make you safer; community mutual aid networks who can unite other people with the resources they need to stay fed, clothed, and housed make you safer. I really want to hammer this home: every cop in your neighborhood is damaged by their training, emboldened by their immunity, and they have a gun and the ability to take your life with near-impunity. This does not make you safer, even if you’re white.

    HOW DO YOU SOLVE A PROBLEM LIKE A BASTARD?

    So what do we do about it? Even though I’m an expert on bastardism, I am not a public policy expert nor an expert in organizing a post-police society. So, before I give some suggestions, let me tell you what probably won’t solve the problem of bastard cops:
    Increased “bias” training. A quarterly or even monthly training session is not capable of covering over years of trauma-based camaraderie in police forces. I can tell you from experience, we don’t take it seriously, the proctors let us cheat on whatever “tests” there are, and we all made fun of it later over coffee.
    Tougher laws. I hope you understand by now, cops do not follow the law and will not hold each other accountable to the law. Tougher laws are all the more reason to circle the wagons and protect your brothers and sisters.
    More community policing programs. Yes, there is a marginal effect when a few cops get to know members of the community, but look at the protests of 2020: many of the cops pepper-spraying journalists were probably the nice school cop a month ago.
    Police officers do not protect and serve people, they protect and serve the status quo, “polite society”, and private property. Using the incremental mechanisms of the status quo will never reform the police because the status quo relies on police violence to exist. Capitalism requires a permanent underclass to exploit for cheap labor and it requires the cops to bring that underclass to heel.
    Instead of wasting time with minor tweaks, I recommend exploring the following ideas:
    No more qualified immunity. Police officers should be personally liable for all decisions they make in the line of duty.
    No more civil asset forfeiture. Did you know that every year, citizens like you lose more cash and property to unaccountable civil asset forfeiture than to all burglaries combined? The police can steal your stuff without charging you with a crime and it makes some police departments very rich.
    Break the power of police unions. Police unions make it nearly impossible to fire bad cops and incentivize protecting them to protect the power of the union. A police union is not a labor union; police officers are powerful state agents, not exploited workers.
    Require malpractice insurance. Doctors must pay for insurance in case they botch a surgery, police officers should do the same for botching a police raid or other use of force. If human decency won’t motivate police to respect human life, perhaps hitting their wallet might.
    Defund, demilitarize, and disarm cops. Thousands of police departments own assault rifles, armored personnel carriers, and stuff you’d see in a warzone. Police officers have grants and huge budgets to spend on guns, ammo, body armor, and combat training. 99% of calls for service require no armed response, yet when all you have is a gun, every problem feels like target practice. Cities are not safer when unaccountable bullies have a monopoly on state violence and the equipment to execute that monopoly.
    One final idea: consider abolishing the police.
    I know what you’re thinking, “What? We need the police! They protect us!” As someone who did it for nearly a decade, I need you to understand that by and large, police protection is marginal, incidental. It’s an illusion created by decades of copaganda designed to fool you into thinking these brave men and women are holding back the barbarians at the gates.
    I alluded to this above: the vast majority of calls for service I handled were theft reports, burglary reports, domestic arguments that hadn’t escalated into violence, loud parties, (houseless) people loitering, traffic collisions, very minor drug possession, and arguments between neighbors. Mostly the mundane ups and downs of life in the community, with little inherent danger. And, like I mentioned, the vast majority of crimes I responded to (even violent ones) had already happened; my unaccountable license to kill was irrelevant.
    What I mainly provided was an “objective” third party with the authority to document property damage, ask people to chill out or disperse, or counsel people not to beat each other up. A trained counselor or conflict resolution specialist would be ten times more effective than someone with a gun strapped to his hip wondering if anyone would try to kill him when he showed up. There are many models for community safety that can be explored if we get away from the idea that the only way to be safe is to have a man with a M4 rifle prowling your neighborhood ready at a moment’s notice to write down your name and birthday after you’ve been robbed and beaten.
    You might be asking, “What about the armed robbers, the gangsters, the drug dealers, the serial killers?” And yes, in the city I worked, I regularly broke up gang parties, found gang members carrying guns, and handled homicides. I’ve seen some tragic things, from a reformed gangster shot in the head with his brains oozing out to a fifteen year old boy taking his last breath in his screaming mother’s arms thanks to a gang member’s bullet. I know the wages of violence.
    This is where we have to have the courage to ask: why do people rob? Why do they join gangs? Why do they get addicted to drugs or sell them? It’s not because they are inherently evil. I submit to you that these are the results of living in a capitalist system that grinds people down and denies them housing, medical care, human dignity, and a say in their government. These are the results of white supremacy pushing people to the margins, excluding them, disrespecting them, and treating their bodies as disposable.
    Equally important to remember: disabled and mentally ill people are frequently killed by police officers not trained to recognize and react to disabilities or mental health crises. Some of the people we picture as “violent offenders” are often people struggling with untreated mental illness, often due to economic hardships. Very frequently, the officers sent to “protect the community” escalate this crisis and ultimately wound or kill the person. Your community was not made safer by police violence; a sick member of your community was killed because it was cheaper than treating them. Are you extremely confident you’ll never get sick one day too?
    Wrestle with this for a minute: if all of someone’s material needs were met and all the members of their community were fed, clothed, housed, and dignified, why would they need to join a gang? Why would they need to risk their lives selling drugs or breaking into buildings? If mental healthcare was free and was not stigmatized, how many lives would that save?
    Would there still be a few bad actors in the world? Sure, probably. What’s my solution for them, you’re no doubt asking. I’ll tell you what: generational poverty, food insecurity, houselessness, and for-profit medical care are all problems that can be solved in our lifetimes by rejecting the dehumanizing meat grinder of capitalism and white supremacy. Once that’s done, we can work on the edge cases together, with clearer hearts not clouded by a corrupt system.
    Police abolition is closely related to the idea of prison abolition and the entire concept of banishing the carceral state, meaning, creating a society focused on reconciliation and restorative justice instead of punishment, pain, and suffering — a system that sees people in crisis as humans, not monsters. People who want to abolish the police typically also want to abolish prisons, and the same questions get asked: “What about the bad guys? Where do we put them?” I bring this up because abolitionists don’t want to simply replace cops with armed social workers or prisons with casual detention centers full of puffy leather couches and Playstations. We imagine a world not divided into good guys and bad guys, but rather a world where people’s needs are met and those in crisis receive care, not dehumanization.
    Here’s legendary activist and thinker Angela Y. Davis putting it better than I ever could:
    “An abolitionist approach that seeks to answer questions such as these would require us to imagine a constellation of alternative strategies and institutions, with the ultimate aim of removing the prison from the social and ideological landscapes of our society. In other words, we would not be looking for prisonlike substitutes for the prison, such as house arrest safeguarded by electronic surveillance bracelets. Rather, positing decarceration as our overarching strategy, we would try to envision a continuum of alternatives to imprisonment-demilitarization of schools, revitalization of education at all levels, a health system that provides free physical and mental care to all, and a justice system based on reparation and reconciliation rather than retribution and vengeance.”
    (Are Prisons Obsolete, pg. 107)
    I’m not telling you I have the blueprint for a beautiful new world. What I’m telling you is that the system we have right now is broken beyond repair and that it’s time to consider new ways of doing community together. Those new ways need to be negotiated by members of those communities, particularly Black, indigenous, disabled, houseless, and citizens of color historically shoved into the margins of society. Instead of letting Fox News fill your head with nightmares about Hispanic gangs, ask the Hispanic community what they need to thrive. Instead of letting racist politicians scaremonger about pro-Black demonstrators, ask the Black community what they need to meet the needs of the most vulnerable. If you truly desire safety, ask not what your most vulnerable can do for the community, ask what the community can do for the most vulnerable.

    A WORLD WITH FEWER BASTARDS IS POSSIBLE

    If you take only one thing away from this essay, I hope it’s this: do not talk to cops. But if you only take two things away, I hope the second one is that it’s possible to imagine a different world where unarmed black people, indigenous people, poor people, disabled people, and people of color are not routinely gunned down by unaccountable police officers. It doesn’t have to be this way. Yes, this requires a leap of faith into community models that might feel unfamiliar, but I ask you:
    When you see a man dying in the street begging for breath, don’t you want to leap away from that world?
    When you see a mother or a daughter shot to death sleeping in their beds, don’t you want to leap away from that world?
    When you see a twelve year old boy executed in a public park for the crime of playing with a toy, jesus fucking christ, can you really just stand there and think “This is normal”?
    And to any cops who made it this far down, is this really the world you want to live in? Aren’t you tired of the trauma? Aren’t you tired of the soul sickness inherent to the badge? Aren’t you tired of looking the other way when your partners break the law? Are you really willing to kill the next George Floyd, the next Breonna Taylor, the next Tamir Rice? How confident are you that your next use of force will be something you’re proud of? I’m writing this for you too: it’s wrong what our training did to us, it’s wrong that they hardened our hearts to our communities, and it’s wrong to pretend this is normal.
    Look, I wouldn’t have been able to hear any of this for much of my life. You reading this now may not be able to hear this yet either. But do me this one favor: just think about it. Just turn it over in your mind for a couple minutes. “Yes, And” me for a minute. Look around you and think about the kind of world you want to live in. Is it one where an all-powerful stranger with a gun keeps you and your neighbors in line with the fear of death, or can you picture a world where, as a community, we embrace our most vulnerable, meet their needs, heal their wounds, honor their dignity, and make them family instead of desperate outsiders?
    If you take only three things away from this essay, I hope the third is this: you and your community don’t need bastards to thrive.

    #116627
    zn
    Moderator

    I was a police officer for nearly ten years and I was a bastard. We all were.

    Highly recommended read.

    #116634
    InvaderRam
    Moderator

    ya know. i honestly don’t know what to think. lots of people on this board making excellent points. here’s a video. a little bit different from the perspectives being put forth on this board. but i think the guy makes some excellent points. i think it’s worth a listen. i don’t necessarily agree with everything he says. but i think he makes some good points.

    • This reply was modified 4 years, 3 months ago by InvaderRam.
    #116636
    InvaderRam
    Moderator

    I submit to you that these are the results of living in a capitalist system that grinds people down and denies them housing, medical care, human dignity, and a say in their government. These are the results of white supremacy pushing people to the margins, excluding them, disrespecting them, and treating their bodies as disposable.

    yeah. but that’s the rub for me. it’s the system that’s corrupt. so if you have the same system in place, what will defunding the police really accomplish?

    #116638
    zn
    Moderator

    yeah. but that’s the rub for me. it’s the system that’s corrupt. so if you have the same system in place, what will defunding the police really accomplish?

    It;s true that it’s a war with many fronts. But part of defunding is to REfund resources that actually address issues of poverty for neighborhoods in need. Why have the police handle social work, for example, when social workers can do that.

    But there are other fronts too, like health care, electoral reform, and so on.

    #116640
    InvaderRam
    Moderator

    It;s true that it’s a war with many fronts. But part of defunding is to REfund resources that actually address issues of poverty for neighborhoods in need. Why have the police handle social work, for example, when social workers can do that.

    But there are other fronts too, like health care, electoral reform, and so on.

    true. well said.

    #116655
    wv
    Participant

    I was a police officer for nearly ten years and I was a bastard. We all were.

    Highly recommended read.

    =============
    Well, it would be better if it wasn’t anonymous. How do we know its not fake?

    w
    v

    #116656
    wv
    Participant

    I submit to you that these are the results of living in a capitalist system that grinds people down and denies them housing, medical care, human dignity, and a say in their government. These are the results of white supremacy pushing people to the margins, excluding them, disrespecting them, and treating their bodies as disposable.

    yeah. but that’s the rub for me. it’s the system that’s corrupt. so if you have the same system in place, what will defunding the police really accomplish?

    =========

    Exactly. I think about that all the time, in different contexts. Its very interesting territory.

    Mostly though, the system is NOT going to let the police be ‘defunded’. Aint gonna happen, in most places. There will be a lot of talk, but in the end the reforms will be watered down to “more police sensitivity training” and “modifications on the rules of choke-holds” and maybe one or two less bazookas and one or two more Public Relations Officers hired.

    Just watch.

    And watch what BIDEN ends up proposing. He will spout so many ‘down the middle’ useless cliches it will be utterly meaningless.

    Looks like there might be a few places that might try some intriguing and radical changes though. Small pockets of radical-experimentation in the Corportocracy.
    Strange times.

    w
    v

    #116658
    joemad
    Participant

    That was a good read zn…

    I know a few a cops, some told me that they lost faith in humanity before becoming bastardized….

    #116659
    zn
    Moderator

    Well, it would be better if it wasn’t anonymous. How do we know its not fake?

    w
    v

    Well this is just one man’s subjective view, but it doesn’t seem fake to me. Way too much detail for that. You deal with cops at least part of the time. How accurate does it seem to you.

    #116678
    wv
    Participant

    Well, it would be better if it wasn’t anonymous. How do we know its not fake?

    w
    v

    Well this is just one man’s subjective view, but it doesn’t seem fake to me. Way too much detail for that. You deal with cops at least part of the time. How accurate does it seem to you.

    ==============
    Oh its totally accurate, LoL. But i am wary. I just dont wanna read, a month from now, that it was some bored undergrad in his basement who wanted to trash the cops, etc.

    w
    v
    “I know, Ma. I’m a-tryin’. But them deputies- Did you ever see a deputy that didn’t have a fat ass? An’ they waggle their ass an’ flop their gun aroun’. Ma”, he said, “if it was the law they was workin’ with, why we could take it. But it ain’t the law. They’re a-working away at our spirits. They’re a-tryin’ to make us cringe an’ crawl like a whipped bitch. They’re tryin’ to break us. Why, Jesus Christ, Ma, they comes a time when the on’y way a fella can keep his decency is by takin’ a sock at a cop. They’re working on our decency”.”
    ― John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wrath

    #117188
    zn
    Moderator

    THE SECRET LIVES OF POLICE WIVES — AND THE ABUSE THEY SUFFER IN SILENCE

    link https://melmagazine.com/en-us/story/the-secret-lives-of-police-wives-and-the-abuse-they-suffer-in-silence?fbclid=IwAR0635PtXbEvR-tt7qNVgbnyNCrASK1L5Vl3mVY9hhV42in35D-PtQDEgPA

    For the victims of abusive police officers, silence seeps into almost every aspect of their lives. But now, in the wake of George Floyd’s death and the subsequent police reckoning it inspired, their voices are finally starting to be heard

    On May 25, 2020, Minneapolis cop Derek Chauvin knelt on George Floyd’s neck for almost nine minutes, crushing him to death in plain sight of a handful of witnesses. One of these witnesses was a 17-year-old girl who caught the scene on camera in startling resolution. Her steady-handed footage is disturbing and difficult to watch — even from a distance, you can tell that Chauvin is disconnected from what he’s doing, physically present but mentally somewhere else as he took the life of a man whose crime appeared to be nothing greater than the color of his skin.

    When Jane, a pseudonymous 46-year-old corporate travel agent, heard the news, she was horrified, but not surprised. Her ex-husband of 10 years, an Ohio police officer and firearms instructor named Doug (also a pseudonym), used to do something similar to her all the time. He put his own spin on things, of course, preferring to sink his knee into her shoulder or chest while wrapping his hands around her neck, but the general technique was the same: asphyxiate and immobilize until he was certain she was subdued.

    It didn’t take much to set him off. One night in 2007, just a few months after their wedding, the blond, bubbly mother of two took $10 from the shared cash jar they kept in their bedroom to buy cough syrup with. In response, he choked her on the ground, crushed her phone to keep her from calling for help and hit her in the head with a decorative Christmas sign with a Santa Claus figure on it. As blood ran down her face, she grabbed her younger daughter and ran to her car — locking the door before he could rip it open — and drove herself to the police station where she begged his colleagues for help. The next day, she woke up in the hospital with six staples in her head.

    What he did to her was blatant battery and he spent a few hours in prison for it, but the judge, a friend of Doug’s father, did him a solid and knocked it down to disorderly conduct (which automatically removed the order of protection a more serious charge would have brought). He didn’t need a felony on his record, she remembers the judge saying in court. He was a cop. His job was already hard enough. Court records from December 2007 show that Doug was logged as simply having “caused annoyance to [Jane] by making unreasonable noise.” For this, records show he was instructed to pay her $9.

    On almost every night of their decade-long marriage, Doug cleaned his guns, disassembling and scrubbing their metallic guts on the wood of their kitchen table. Sometimes, as she limped by to make herself something to eat, he’d remind her that no one would believe her if she talked. No matter how many times she punched 9-1-1 into her phone, no matter how many reports she filed and no matter how much evidence she brought with her to court, they would always, always take his side. “I’m a cop,” she remembers him telling her. “I’ll get away with it every time.”

    In 2018, Alex Villanueva, the sheriff of Los Angeles County and the “Donald Trump of law enforcement,” made a chillingly simple statement that sums up how right he was. In justifying his decision to rehire a deputy who lost his job twice for stalking and abusing his ex-girlfriend, Villanueva told a reporter that it was “a private relationship between two consenting adults that went bad.” He couldn’t have spelled it out more clearly. Like most police departments in the country, the LAPD wouldn’t concern itself with the private lives of its officers. What they chose to do off the clock, Villanueva suggested, was none of his business.

    The thing is, how a cop treats their partner is the very definition of police business. What goes on at home is intimately related to how an officer acts on the job, and the factors that lead to domestic abuse — coercion, intimidation, authoritarianism, a sense of entitlement to violence — are often the exact same ones at the root of excessive force and police brutality. As an analysis of Chicago cops from the Citizens Police Data Project shows, officers accused of domestic violence between 2000 and 2016 received twice as many complaints for using excessive force as their colleagues who were not. Philip Stinson, a former officer who studies misconduct and teaches criminal justice at Bowling Green State University, reached a similar conclusion: More than one-fifth of officers arrested for domestic violence had also been the subject of a federal lawsuit for violating people’s civil rights (and those are just the ones who get charged).

    Those findings are significant as is, but they become even more so when you consider how common domestic violence in police homes actually is. As the National Center for Women and Policing (NCWP) notes in a much-cited information sheet, “Two studies have found that at least 40 percent of police officer families experience domestic violence, in contrast to 10 percent of families in the general population. A third study of older, more experienced officers found a rate of 24 percent, indicating that domestic violence is two to four times more common among police families than American families in general.”

    Proponents of the “not all cops are bad” theory love to point out that the famed 40 percent statistic was gleaned from decades-old data — and therefore doesn’t count — but it’s also the best and only measure of at-home police violence that we have. As Alex Roslin, a journalist and author of Police Wife: The Secret Epidemic of Police Domestic Violence explains, there’s been almost no empirical research conducted on the issue since the 1990s, and record-keeping on criminal conduct among cops is far too shoddy — perhaps intentionally — to illustrate the real extent of the issue. “You’d think academics and police departments would be curious about a problem with such massive implications for all of society,” he says, “But they’ve just done nothing.”

    Theories abound as to why, but Leigh Goodmark, the director of the Gender Violence Clinic at the University of Maryland’s Carey School of Law, cuts through them like a knife. As she told the New Yorker in 2018, there’s radio silence in the research world because few people want to admit that “those policing the crime and those committing it are often the same person.”

    That “person” also tends to have a particular personality type that lends itself to violence both at home and on the job. “Policing tends to attract people who have these authoritarian personalities,” Goodmark continues. “They tend to be more narrow-minded. They tend to use violence. They tend to be suspicious. They tend to be unwilling to tolerate someone’s failure to submit. That’s going to play out on the streets, with people who are perceived as not respecting their authority, and with their partners at home.”

    An even bigger piece of the domestic violence and police brutality puzzle might be cops’ relationship to masculinity. In addition to more rigid, black-and-white thinking and an authoritarian need for control, Goodmark says police officers also tend to subscribe to a particular form of “militarized masculinity” that glorifies the use of violence to assert authority. “That entitlement comes not only because the state invests them with that mentality, but because of their perceptions of what it is to be a ‘man,’” she says. “They’re taught that whenever they feel challenged in some way — or whenever they feel like someone isn’t respecting their authority — that it’s okay to use force to subdue them.”

    A phenomenon called “work-family” or “authoritarian spillover” outlines the consequences of that mentality for victims of domestic abuse. A term that describes the malignant ways in which an officer’s job training can manifest at home, it does a lot to both predict and explain their unusually high rate of domestic violence. “There’s psychological conditioning that comes with being a police officer,” explains Cyndi Doyle, a police wife and therapist who addresses relationship issues in law enforcement families through her Dallas-based practice, Code4Couples. “They’re trained to react, not to respond. It’s their job to take control. They’re taught that’s what will keep them alive.”

    They’re also trained to prioritize their own safety over others’. “Police training starts in the academy, where the concept of officer safety is so heavily emphasized that it takes on almost religious significance,” writes Seth W. Stoughton, a former cop and current researcher for the Atlantic. This mentality is so ingrained, he says, that it’s often called the “first rule of law enforcement.” That’s why cops are given such latitude to use force when they feel it’s needed — they’re, quite literally, trained to put themselves first.

    To stoke this belief, Stoughton reports that cops are often shown “painfully vivid, heart-wrenching dash-cam footage of officers being beaten, disarmed or gunned down after a moment of inattention or hesitation.” Then, they’re told that the “primary culprit isn’t the felon on the video, it’s the officer’s lack of vigilance.” That kind of programming puts the onus on them to quickly parse right from wrong — it’s their job, they’re taught, to always be on. After all, as they’re often trained to believe, cops are in danger. Hands-on exercises have them react to a variety of situations in which the suspect attacks them with a gun or knife first, and they learn to finesse their split-second reaction times to eliminate the threat. And if their reaction to that threat is a mistake? Well, cops have a saying for that: “Better to be judged by twelve than carried by six.”

    It’s this kind of training, says Goodmark, that makes them “dangerous to pretty much everyone around them.” We already know how this plays out on the job — the split-second execution of Breonna Taylor is the perfect despicable example — but as Doyle explains, that mentality doesn’t always stop when a cop punches the clock at the end of a shift. Often, it follows them home.

    Sometimes, spillover manifests in the form of basic tactics police use to gain physical or psychological control of their family members, who they treat as criminal suspects. According to Nanette Chezum, a survivor of officer-involved domestic violence and a nationally recognized expert on the topic, yelling, intimidating body language, gaslighting and a refusal to talk before they act are common. Jim — the pseudonymous rural Colorado cop she spent seven “horrible” months with in 2015 — would also use his body language and voice to “keep [her] in line.” “Just like police are trained to do when they arrive on a scene, he’d intimidate me by making his body appear bigger and lowering his voice to signal that he was in control,” she tells me.

    When he felt that wasn’t enough, he’d throw in a little extra. On more than one occasion, he’d beat his fists on a table, steering wheel or any surface he could find to indicate that if she didn’t comply, whatever he was pounding on could easily become her. “It really scared me,” she says. “That was one of his ways of controlling me and of keeping me quiet — through the psychological fear of what would happen if I didn’t do what he said.”

    In other spillover cases, phone tracking, excessive interrogation, bugging a victim’s home or car and tailing — also known as stalking — are common. But when those don’t elicit the desired response, brute force is often used. “Police officers are trained in physical contact; how to take down a perpetrator,” says Chezum. “They’re trained in how to dismantle people physically, not just only with a gun or with a weapon, but how to physically restrain people. They know the places to touch, to restrain, to camouflage bruises, or to make sure bruises aren’t left.” The particular chokehold Doug exacted on Jane was one of these police-sanctioned tactics (what Chauvin did to Floyd was not).

    But, just like on the street, some officers don’t stop at force. Something makes them snap, and they want ultimate control — the kind they have over someone’s life. In February, a Georgia cop named Michael Seth Perrault shot his wife in the head and reported it as a suicide. A year before, Hilario Hernandez, a veteran sergeant with 33 years at the Houston Police Department, put a bullet in his wife Belinda after a dinner party at their house for “flirting” with a family friend. A few months later, New Jersey officer Daniel Bannister was charged with first-degree murder after repeatedly abusing — then killing — his three-month old daughter, Hailey. Next, a South Carolina sheriff named R.A. “Andy” Strickland was charged with second-degree domestic violence after he punched a female household member repeatedly, took away her phone and damaged her car in an attempt to prevent her from seeking help or reporting the incident. About a thousand miles north in New York, NYPD cop Carlos Marin was busted for hitting and choking his wife in their Queens apartment.

    As with Doug’s case, though, Marin’s charge was downgraded from a felony to a misdemeanor. That’s par for the course: In 2019, a California coalition of news organizations investigating domestic violence in police homes found that an additional 40 percent of officers managed to plead down their domestic violence charges to non-violent misdemeanors even after they “brutally harmed family members.” Predictably, most of them are still on the force.

    And these are just the cases you hear about. Most victims’ stories never make the evening news because they’re never told in the first place. As the NCWP notes, “Most departments across the country typically handle cases of police family violence informally, often without an official report, investigation or even check of the victim’s safety.” Even Stinson, who’s created an entire database of criminal cops, says accessing records of complaints and reports against them is next to impossible (which is why he uses arrest and court records, which are much easier to access). “They’re not keeping track of this stuff,” he says. “Most of the time if you ask a department for records for one of their officers, they’ll tell you to take a hike.”

    Moreover, if a report is made and followed up on, it usually goes nowhere. Most cops get off with little more than a slap on the wrist — if that — and many are never acknowledged as having hurt someone at all. “In 2018, an independent panel found that the typical penalty for New York City police officers found guilty of domestic violence — some had punched, kicked, choked or threatened their victims with guns — was 30 lost vacation days,” writes Rachel Aviv for the New Yorker. “In nearly a third of cases, the officers already had a domestic-violence incident — and, in one case, eight — in their records. In the Puerto Rico Police Department, 98 police officers were arrested for domestic violence between 2007 and 2010; three of them had shot and killed their wives. Only eight were fired.”

    In fact, as Roslin points out, domestic violence committed by cops is often punished less severely than crimes like marijuana use, lying or theft. Three-quarters of the time, sustained allegations of abuse don’t even show up on an officer’s performance evaluation. It’s no wonder then that officers who commit domestic violence against their romantic partners are less likely to be convicted than when they assault anyone else. That’s why Goodmark gets so frustrated when people use the argument that defunding the police would leave domestic violence victims without protectors. “Why would you want people who are committing domestic violence at a greater rate than people in the general population to be your first responders?” she asks. “That’s why using domestic violence as a justification not to move away from policing as we know it is so deeply problematic and wrong.”

    There’s a well-known phenomenon in the police world called the “blue code” or the “blue wall of silence.” A tacit agreement between cops not to narc on each other’s crimes and misconduct, it exists to insulate them from the same laws they claim to enforce, allowing them to act with impunity under the guise of society’s protectors. If questioned about a colleague’s corruption, brutality or abuse at home, it’s code to claim ignorance. If a cop does speak up or step in, they’re often ostracized or threatened by other officers. In some cases, they’re even fired when they try to do the right thing.

    It’s because of this code — and the culture of silence it creates — that issues like domestic violence and police brutality are swept under the rug in departments looking to uphold the status quo. But, just like spillover, silence doesn’t stay within precinct walls. Often, it follows them home where it becomes contagious, seeping into the attitudes and behaviors of the people they live with.

    This effect on domestic violence victims can be dire. As Chezum explains, abused partners and family members are often scared to speak up about what’s happening to them for fear of retribution. In many cases, it just makes abusers angrier and more aggressive. Victims also know full-well that their claims will be handled by their abuser’s cronies, who will likely not only fail to properly document and investigate them, but tip off their abusers that their partners are causing problems.

    Jane knew this, but for the first few years of her marriage, she tried just the same. Desperate for protection against Doug — and concerned for the wellbeing of civilians he came into contact with — she routinely called the police to report the things he was doing to her or to tip them off that he was drunk on patrol. Every time, her pleas would get back to him. “That’s when it really got bad,” she says. “Physically, mentally, emotionally — the abuse just intensified. It was much more dangerous for me to speak up than it was to keep quiet.” Eventually, she stopped trying. After years of being ignored by police, rejected restraining orders and dealing with a law enforcement culture that did, as Doug warned her, “take his side,” she settled into a defeated silence, grimly aware that her screams were silent ones in the eyes of the “law.”

    This is common in abusive cop households. “We become conditioned that if we don’t share this, then we don’t get a negative response,” says Doyle, explaining that most abuse victims tend to react this way, cop husband or not. “Think of operant conditioning: You chose a certain behavior to avoid the negative stimulus of him acting out. That breeds continued bad behavior. That breeds an escalation. That potentially breeds abuse.”

    There’s also the threat of lost income to consider. Even when victims do speak up, and even when they are taken seriously, they still have to contend with the possibility of their partner losing their job, a reality that could threaten them and their families in an entirely different way. And so, for many victims like Jane, the floor of their homes are covered in what Doyle refers to as “eggshells,” each sharpened fragment keeping them as quiet and subservient as a suspect cuffed in the back of a police car.

    Silence shows up in subtler ways too, especially in the unspoken roles and duties police partners are expected to perform as people attached to officers with “hard jobs.” “You’re expected to never complain because whatever they’re going through is so much harder than what you’re going through,” says Jane, remembering that even other police wives seemed uninterested in hearing anything other than “my husband’s a hero.” “If you say anything negative, you’re blacklisted.”

    Chezum felt that, too. “In police culture, it’s very obvious that wives and girlfriends are there for support,” she says, explaining that even happy, healthy police relationships tend to strain under the long hours and high-stress duties required of police. “They put themselves second. They do what they’re told.”

    Without uttering so much as a word, Jim made that clear to her right away. From the moment they started dating, she says he used his voice and body language to show that her purpose was to make him happy at any cost, puffing up his chest and speaking to her in deep, dead-eyed paternal growl to get his point across. If she didn’t, he made it known that there would be consequences.

    Once, on a vacation to Moab in Utah, he forced her to mountain bike with him on an expert-level trail. When she had to stop after nearly falling off a massive boulder — she hated mountain biking and wasn’t prepared for the expert-level route he’d planned — he banished her to the still-locked car and made her wait for hours in the scorching 100-degree heat until he got back.

    Crying always made it worse, so over time, she learned to turn herself to stone. Frozen, submissive and silent, she’d weather his tantrums until he exhausted himself, only reanimating when she was sure he was asleep or gone. She wanted to stand up for herself, but she didn’t have much of a choice. As many victims of domestic violence know, silence can be a means to survive.

    Chezum knew the things Jim was doing to her wrong, but she wrote them off. He was a cop, after all. He had a “stressful” job. Not realizing until much later that people like surgeons, pilots and firefighters also have high-stress jobs but far lower rates of abuse, she excused his behavior as “normal cop stuff” and tried to keep him happy, hooked on the hope that a glimmer of his old, charming self might come back.

    The problem is, as Doyle explains, this is actually “normal cop stuff,” and it can be present in relationships even when no one’s being abused (just neglected, it seems). On her homepage, she offers a jarring glimpse of what that looks like in many law enforcement homes: “You knew that law enforcement and a relationship or marriage was going to be tough. You knew it would include shift work, missed holidays, missed connection, loneliness, going to gatherings alone or feeling like a single parent. You didn’t realize QUITE the impact it would have. Your officer doesn’t seem the same and at times seems aloof, sharp, and cynical. As a spouse, you find yourself wondering what it’s going to be like when they walk in the door or see them next. What happened to the person you fell in love with? You find yourself being on more eggshells and avoid conversation due to the potential reaction.”

    This isn’t a dramatization, says Doyle. It’s the norm. You just don’t hear about it because part of a police wife’s role is to grin and bear it. They knew what they were getting themselves into when they fell in love with a cop, so why should they complain? “That’s the kind of mentality you’re up against when you try to talk about this stuff with people,” says Jane. “They don’t want to hear it. If you tell your story to 10 people, nine of them will go, ‘Oh, but there are good cops out there.’ They’re more concerned with defending these ‘good officers’ than they are hearing your story about what it’s like to live with a bad one.”

    Conversations like these aren’t relegated to naive friends and family or ignorant social media commenters either. They’re also reflected by the people whose actual job it is to help battered women. Catherine, a 43-year-old medical assistant in Chicago, was given a list of police therapists and domestic abuse counselors for cops by Chicago’s Civilian Office for Police Accountability (COPA) after her ex-husband threw her into a laundry room door in front of her two-year-old twins. But not one of them called her back. COPA also offered her a domestic abuse advocate to accompany her in court, but she was denied that option as well — the only advocate available was already representing her ex’s past girlfriend. “That left me with no resources,” she says. “My experience was and always has been that police representatives handle police domestic matters, which is clearly part of the systemic failure.”

    Interactions like these only fuel the silence. With few people interested in what they have to say — and even fewer willing to help — many police partners learn to say nothing at all. To cope, many of them join online groups like the National Police Wives Association (NPWA) or Reddit’s r/LEOWives where they can be amongst their peers and interact with people like them. On LEOWives, a small but fervent forum for the partners of cops, firefighters, EMTs and other miscellaneous “heroes,” users share everything from concerns over a lagging sex life to lists of gifts they’ve bought their spouse, encouraging each other with cop-specific relationship advice that’s hard to find elsewhere.

    But even in these spaces, sensitive issues like domestic violence — or the current police brutality reckoning — are often snubbed in favor of rhetoric that supports the good wife role. The NPWA Facebook page makes this clear in an awkwardly punctuated post about what police partners should be doing at a time like this: keeping their feelings to themselves and standing by their men.

    “Right now is not the time to debate with people!!!!” it reads. “Let me say it again!!! Right now is not the time to debate or try to defend emotions are too high!!! So today what do you do?? Support your Spouses and each other. This is a hard time for Departments and Officers. Their mental health and morale is at an all time low. Quite frankly so is ours. So rather than expending energy arguing with inconsequential people. Spend energy supporting your Spouse and or their Department!!!”

    A more ominous warning follows: “We got word that a few groups and different spouses pages are encouraging letter-writing to departments and campaigns for one thing or another. Stay in your Lane……”

    Likewise, in a LEOWives post from a woman wondering whether she should attend the same anti-police protest her cop husband was working, one wife, a frequent commenter, warns against going with her gut on the issue and instead “learning” from her husband. “While your husband may love and support you, I have the feeling that something inside will be hurt by this,” she writes, insinuating that the woman should put her personal politics aside in favor of her husband’s feelings. Another writes that while “systemic racism is absolutely real” and she supports the movement for police reform, she has decided not to protest in public because “LEO spouses don’t have the luxury of speaking out in this way.”

    Silence, once again, is gently offered as the norm.

    Ironically, silence itself seems to be one of the only acceptable conversation topics in groups like LEOWives. In a particularly telling post logged during the height of the protests, a redditor shares a poem she found on Facebook. Titled “To the Silent Police Spouse” and lifted from an unknown origin, it goes like this:

    I know what you’re thinking…
    “Here we go again.”
    The actions of some has once again become the blame of them all.
    You want to speak out. You have a voice, too. But let’s face it — no one will understand no matter WHAT you say.
    And so, you sit in silence.
    If you dare to make a peep, you will be ridiculed.
    If you dare to speak one way or another, you will be accused for saying something you literally did NOT say.
    If you dare to defend your spouse and the others who represent the Good, you will be socially DEMOLISHED.
    All because you want to protect your spouse, and your family, from any potential harm.
    And so, you sit in silence.
    Either way, you are a target — despite the fact your spouse is not one of them. Despite the fact most of his/her coworkers aren’t “one of them.”
    The actions of some has once again become the blame of them all.
    You are the one standing behind the one who holds the line, and for that you too are the enemy.
    You want to use your voice, but you can’t.
    Yet once more, you send off your spouse for another shift, and once more: Pray s/he comes home.
    And so, you sit in silence.
    Praying. Waiting. Crying. Not able to sleep.
    To the Silent Police Spouse: I hear your Silence.

    Since it’s been up, the poem has generated more interaction and praise than any post related to George Floyd, Black Lives Matter or the movement for police reform. And while a few wives — and some husbands — urged others not to glorify silence or see it as their only option, other wives clapped back, asserting that they could still effect change silently, through signing petitions and donating under the radar without calling attention to themselves. “This speaks so much truth,” says one. “Thank you for putting into words what I couldn’t,” says another. To date, it’s one of the group’s most up-voted posts of the year.

    It’s not that partners of the police don’t try to speak up against brutality or for Black lives in these groups. They try to. It’s just that when they do, a hand covers their mouth from every side. If they stand by their man and denounce the protests, they’re branded as selfish, privileged and blind; probable racists too deep in denial to see the forest for the trees. If they show their support for Black Lives Matter or the movement to defund and reimagine police, they’re branded as marital traitors — or “trolls” — and promptly bounced. Even their close friends and family don’t want to hear what they have to say; as multiple redditors on LEOWives have pointed out, anyone with an anti-cop bone to pick takes it out on them, directing the venom that should be aimed at a broken system toward the partners of the people who make it tick.

    Just like domestic abuse victims, then, many of them have reached the conclusion that it’s just better to keep quiet. That silence has consequences, though, and it’s not just for the partners of police. As the NCWP states on their site, “A police department that has domestic violence offenders among its ranks will not effectively serve and protect victims in the community.”

    When police departments ignore victims and protect their abusers, they allow unhinged officers to interact with the public, playing a game of “serve and protect” that guarantees neither of those things but flaunts them both as a justification for force and brutality. In doing so, they miss a crucial opportunity to weed out officers who might do more harm than good. They run the risk of hiring cops whose misconduct could cost their department — and taxpayers — millions of dollars, and they perpetuate a broken system that prioritizes fear and oppression over justice and public safety. Worse, they do it all while arming their kin with a loaded Glock and a badge that tells them that if they can get away with it at home, they sure as hell can outside of it, too.

    Police brutality is a complicated issue without a singular solution, but in connecting the dots between excessive force and domestic violence, a piece of the larger puzzle starts to fall into place. Were the voices of abused police partners heard — and were their allegations treated like the crimes they are — wouldn’t we be able to use their stories as early warning signs to identify officers who’d rather kneel on the neck of a man than help him to his feet?

    Jane thinks so. So does Chezum. She even goes so far as to suggest that past reports of abuse and prior domestic violence charges that are negotiated down to misdemeanors be considered as part of the hiring process when new cops want to join the force (wannabe officers charged with felonies cannot be hired, in most cases). “The screening procedures we use to hire new officers aren’t enough,” she says. “If this wasn’t such a hush-hush topic, and if we could get our stories out into the open before they’re squashed by the ‘code,’ officers who are accused of these things would be scrutinized a lot more thoroughly.” Considering that most American officers only need a GED and 21 weeks of training before they start making arrests — and that they kill thousands of times more civilians every year then police in other countries like Germany, Norway and Finland, a more standardized, thorough investigation into officer’s past or present relationships might not be a bad idea.

    Until then, though, Jane still remains hopeful. Long since divorced from Doug, she’s had a fresh start with a new, happy marriage and quiet family life that’s given her the strength she’s needed to speak out once more. “What’s happening right now in the culture with Black Lives Matter and police reform is something that’s needed to happen for a long, long time,” she says. “Finally, our voices are being heard.”

    #117248
    zn
    Moderator

    police culture & training, including former police speak out, AND 1 reason why many think they are beyond criticism.

    ==

    #117251
    wv
    Participant

    Copaganda – How Cop Shows Lie to You | The Daily Social Distancing Show”

    ===================

    Think about how the CIA is portrayed in American movies.

    The ONLY reason any changes are being contemplated regarding the American police, is because things are seen on cameras.

    Nothing the CIA does is on camera. No body-cams, no phone-cameras, etc.

    I could go on. And on. About America’s secret police.

    w
    vv

    #119043
    zn
    Moderator

    #120000
    zn
    Moderator

    Police Brutality at Home: Cops Abuse Wives and Kids at Staggering Rates
    It remains an open secret that law enforcement officers abuse wives and children at startling rates.

    link https://www.fatherly.com/love-money/police-brutality-and-domestic-violence/?fbclid=IwAR1BwCHphHWXKfc2arsS3Sykg1rS–Iubhdca3srBjI0xg5B6AFhiwQTlto

    Police violence in undeniable. As Black Lives Matter protests and riots erupt across the nation, video after video shows cops attacking unarmed civilians. In Louisville, David McAtee was murdered by a police officer for protesting the murder of George Floyd by a police officer. But many still believe that police can be trusted to act in the public interest, protecting and serving the innocent. Surely many do, but research into the private lives of cops suggest that belief in the restraint of law enforcement is founded at least in part on faith in men who abuse their wives and children.

    Research, slightly outdated and skewed by a culture of silence and intimidation, suggest that police officers in the United States perpetrate acts of domestic violence at roughly 15 times the rate of the general population. Because officers protect their own, domestic victims of violent cops often don’t know where to go. Sometimes they reach out to Alex Roslin, author of Police Wife: The Secret Epidemic of Police Domestic Violence, the American Society of Journalists and Authors-award winning book that constitutes perhaps the only major work on this subject.

    “I get emails that would make your hair crawl,” says Roslin, a Canadian freelance journalist who came to the issue two decades ago after a friend working with survivors of abuse informed him police wives and biker gang spouses constituted the bulk of her patient population.

    Police abuse, Roslin points out, is an open secret. In 1991, sociologist Leonor Johnson presented to the U.S. House of Representatives Select Committee on Children, Youth and Families, suggesting that 360,000 of the then 900,000 law enforcement officers in the U.S. were likely perpetrating acts of abuse. After a Los Angeles Police Department officer murdered his wife and committed suicide in the late ’90s, a review of domestic abuse allegations brought against officers showed that between 1990 and 1997, 227 alleged cases of domestic violence were brought against police officers, only 91 were sustained and only 4 resulted in conviction of criminal charges. Of the four convictions, only one officer was suspended from duty. He was asked to take three weeks off.

    For many, cops remain heroes. But the law enforcement culture lionized by reactionaries is also a culture of silence antithetical to the values of most partners and parents. Fatherly spoke to Alex Roslin about the extent of the problem and why it persists.

    The numbers in your book are absolutely shocking. In particularly, the number 15 is shocking. You support the claim that abuse is roughly 15 times more pervasive within police families than in the general population. Where does that come from?

    Alex Roslin: The major study here was done by a police officer and a sociologist in Tucson, Arizona, working with a collaborator who had studied domestic violence in military families. It wasn’t by the police department officially. That study found that 40 percent of cops reported having participated in domestic violence in the previous year. The researchers questioned spouses and officers separately with anonymous questions and came up with strikingly similar figures.

    An FBI advisory board later found that roughly 40 percent of officers who filled out questionnaires in a number of different settings admitted to being physically violent with their spouse in the previous six months. The general population data for self-reported abuse is closer to 4 percent when people are asked to report on the last 12 months.

    The numbers are higher for cops who work night shifts.

    It’s worth nothing that the sample sizes are a bit small and that these are older studies. Given the potential scale of the crisis, it’s bizarre that there wouldn’t be more available numbers.

    Alex Roslin: The 40 percent number is the closest I could figure while trying to do an apples to apples comparison. We know for sure that the rate of domestic violence among cops from the little data we have is ridiculously high. We know that thanks to research done in part by police officers, some of whom suggest that number might be low. So we wind up with cops being around 15 times more likely to engage in domestic violence than members of the general population. (Editor’s Note: The comparison here is based on 1.5 to 4 percent of U.S. and Canadian women reporting domestic violence by a partner and an estimate that 6 to 14 percent of children are abused each year. These numbers vary because data is based largely on incidents and self-reporting.)

    We should consider why the data is nonexistent or decades old. Why is no one looking at a massive issue of public interest? I’ve been working on updating my book for a third edition. Doing research I’ve found 40 examples of cops in the United States murdering their spouses. That’s over just three years.

    Is there data available on the children of cops? Is there any reason to believe that abuse doesn’t extend beyond partner violence?

    Alex Roslin: Sadly, I’ve seen no data on that, but anecdotally… I’ve heard a lot of stories. It’s not just police partners that face abuse. It’s children. There have been a lot of reports of that and it makes sense.

    It’s a broad question, but unavoidable: Why is this happening?

    Alex Roslin: Abuse is an open secret among police officers. Many officers claim that it’s the result of a stressful job. But in my research and in talking to domestic violence researchers, it becomes clear that stress doesn’t really cause abuse. There are lots of stressful jobs. Paramedics and surgeons and fire fighters don’t have this kind of problem.

    The more honest officers will tell you that policing is a job about control — controlling people and controlling chaotic environments. It attracts people with that mentality and that desire. Not all police officers are the same, but the more authoritarian police officers are the more likely they are to be violent at home.

    These men aren’t losing control. They are maintaining control. That’s different.

    That’s a disturbing idea because it suggests a strong connection between domestic violence and public violence. Do you see a strong link there?

    Alex Roslin: The reality is that police are being put into places in society where they are supposed to be in control, but we have both movements toward recognizing the rights of more groups — notably women and minorities — and also more inequality than ever. Maintaining control in that environment becomes extremely taxing. My fear is that this is trending the wrong way. When police are protecting this kind of status quo, you’re going to see more domestic violence, not less.

    The inequalities of society force us to empower police. And that empowerment results in the hiring of abusers. Police domestic violence is a mirror held up to our society. Who polices an unequal and violent society?

    Are there causes beyond the desire for control? It feels like that impulse would be tempered by the proximity of… law enforcement officers. Is it not?

    Alex Roslin: No. Cops get away with it. Anthony Bouza, a one-time commander in the New York Police Department and former police chief of Minneapolis, said that ‘The Mafia never enforced its code of blood-sworn omerta with the ferocity, efficacy, and enthusiasm the police bring to the Blue Code of Silence.” That’s reflected in rates at which violence is reported and the degree to which there are consequences.

    What happens to partners abused by police?

    Alex Roslin: In general, these women are terrified. Normally, domestic violence survivors are not in a good place. But these women know the cop has a gun and knows how to commit violence without leaving a mark and they say, “Everyone will think you’re crazy.” And she can’t necessarily go to a shelter because he knows where they are.

    Some of these women contact me. I’m a freelance journalist in Canada. I’m happy to do what I can to help, but why is there no one else?

    You’re a father. What do you tell your kids about the police? How do you talk to them about law enforcement given what you know and given your work?

    Alex Roslin: My daughters know what I do. They know what I’m writing about. My wife has two uncles who are retired officers. We live in a small town and a former police officer is now the mayor and lives down the street. Police officers are humans. At the same time, my kids know that there is a darker side to policing.

    #120245
    zn
    Moderator

    Compton Executioners deputy gang lied about guns and hosted inking parties, deputy says

    https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2020-08-20/lasd-gangs-who-are-the-compton-executioners?fbclid=IwAR1sv2eAmy1srvjJ5rd5sZ4kf-7HrOWhoxgLcnSTzMw_6aL_FCc0QTC-gxU

    At the Compton sheriff’s station, it’s called a ghost gun: a weapon a deputy says he spots on a suspect but that is never found when colleagues respond to the scene and search for it.

    That’s because the call-out is based on a lie. The deputy didn’t actually see a gun, but his suspect could turn out to be armed and an arrest or recovered firearm could pad his reputation.

    It’s the kind of behavior that plays out regularly at the station, according to a whistleblower who worked there for five years and recounted other sensational allegations in a recent deposition obtained by The Times in a federal civil rights lawsuit.

    “In reality, they’ve never seen the gun,” L.A. County Sheriff’s Deputy Austreberto Gonzalez said under oath. “And then at the end when their containments are set up, you know, the gun is never recovered. You know, they’ll call it a day and say, ‘Thank you for rolling. We’re going to call it,’ and a gun was never recovered.”

    Gonzalez says the scheme is employed in Compton by tattooed deputies who call themselves the Executioners, the clandestine gang many say runs the station.

    His allegations add to a growing body of information about the Compton clique, one of several tattooed deputy groups within the Sheriff’s Department with names such as the Grim Reapers, Banditos and Jump Out Boys.

    The Sheriff’s Department has been aware of the groups for decades but has struggled to crack down, despite repeated internal and independent investigations and instances in which members are accused of misconduct.

    Gonzalez’s statements were introduced in an excessive-force lawsuit filed against the Sheriff’s Department by Sheldon Lockett. The judge hearing the case cited the evidence when tentatively deciding to advance the case for trial.

    “Accepting the deputy’s testimony, there is evidence that the clique existed in Compton and that it routinely violated the rights of suspects,” Magistrate Judge Patrick J. Walsh said in his ruling. “The testimony also establishes that the command staff at the station knew about it and not only did not stop it but it encouraged the behavior and placed its members in positions of authority where they could help other members.”

    The Sheriff’s Department said the FBI is now involved in an investigation of the Executioners. Following The Times’ reporting, Compton officials issued formal requests to the state and federal attorney generals to investigate allegations of pervasive civil rights violations.

    In his deposition, Gonzalez identified Miguel Vega, the Compton station deputy who killed 18-year-old Andres Guardado in a shooting in June that sparked weeks of protests, and his partner, Chris Hernandez, as prospective members of the Executioners. Their attorneys said Wednesday that those allegations are false.

    “Deputy Vega does not have one single tattoo on his body, much less a deputy gang tattoo,” his attorney Adam Marangell said. “He doesn’t have one, nor does he plan on getting one.”

    The Sheriff’s Department said in a statement that it had not yet received the transcript of Gonzalez’s testimony. “Once we do, counsel will review and we can respond appropriately,” a spokesman said. County attorneys have argued that Gonzalez’s testimony about the Executioners was nothing more than speculation and conjecture, as he’s not in the group and has no personal knowledge about it.

    Lockett alleges he was targeted by deputies “chasing ink” when he was beaten and falsely arrested for attempted murder in 2016, his attorneys said. He sued in 2018.

    Deputies that day pulled up to Lockett outside his godmother’s home and jumped out of their car with their guns drawn because they said he matched the description of a shooting suspect. Lockett froze, then ran. The deputies, Samuel Aldama and Mizrain Orrego, radioed that Lockett had a gun, which he says was a lie. No gun was found.

    They chased him until they found him hiding in a backyard, where Lockett says he surrendered. Even so, he says, Aldama punched him in the head five times while using the N-word. He alleged that one of the deputies rammed the end of a police baton into his eye socket, which caused permanent damage, and that he was kicked in the back of the head. The county has denied the allegations.

    Lockett was arrested on suspicion of attempted murder and other gun charges and spent eight months in jail. In August, prosecutors dropped charges because of insufficient evidence and after a witness testified that she was mistaken when she identified him, according to a district attorney’s office spokeswoman.

    After the arrest, Lockett’s mother filed a complaint to the Sheriff’s Department.

    “They did nothing,” Lockett’s attorney John Sweeney said during a hearing this week. Instead, he says, they served a search warrant on her home in retaliation. Several months after Lockett’s arrest and three weeks after charges were dropped, Aldama and Orrego shot at and killed Donta Taylor, 31, during a foot chase. Deputies said Taylor had a handgun, but no weapon was found.

    “Had that been investigated … Donta Taylor would still be alive,” Sweeney said. “This was nothing more than a sport kill and an attempt to getting into this gang. And instead of being prosecuted, what happened? There were inking parties and celebrations.”

    Aldama admitted under oath to having a tattoo on his calf depicting a skull with a rifle and a military-style helmet emerging from flames. The letters “CPT,” for Compton, appear on the helmet. Aldama said he was one of as many as 20 deputies selected to get the same tattoo after “working hard” by making arrests and answering calls. He denied being part of a club.

    L.A. County settled a lawsuit brought by Taylor’s family for $7 million. Deputies with alleged ties to these cliques, which are accused of using violent and aggressive tactics similar to those of criminal street gangs, have cost taxpayers $55 million in settlements and payouts in incidents that date to the 1990s, according to county records obtained by The Times.

    Walsh said three Compton deputies, including Aldama and Orrego, have denied in other court proceedings that they were part of a clique and attributed their matching tattoos to “serendipity.”

    The depositions of those three deputies are under seal, but Lockett’s attorney Steven Glickman argued during a court hearing Thursday that their tattoos are numbered. In their depositions, Glickman said Aldama testified that his tattoo’s No. 38 was a nod to his first gun; Orrego’s said his tattoo, which was covered up, was never numbered and he got it in solidarity with Aldama, his friend who had cancer; and Deputy Rogelio Benzor’s tattoo has a No. 40, which he explained as a reference to his retirement in 2040.

    The county had argued that Lockett’s attorneys failed to produce evidence that there was a clique and show that the county knew about it.

    “Obviously, these rogue officers are not going to simply admit that they had formed an unlawful group bent on assaulting minorities,” the judge wrote. “And, presumably, the clique would not be issuing membership cards, or taking minutes at membership meetings, or doing anything else that normal, lawful organizations do. Thus, it would seem impossible for a plaintiff to find tangible evidence to prove that the officers were lying when they denied the existence of their group.”

    Just last week, Sheriff Alex Villanueva said he was moving to discipline 26 employees with firings or suspensions for their roles in a fight at an off-duty East L.A. station party at Kennedy Hall, a nearby event space, where deputies say they were attacked by inked members of the Banditos, who allegedly wielded power at the station. But he denied that gangs exist within the Sheriff’s Department.

    “There is zero evidence of three or more deputies engaged in criminal activity with a unifying symbol whose primary purpose is to commit crime,” Villanueva said.

    Two deputies who said they were assaulted and knocked unconscious are among those facing discipline for policy violations that include failing to report the Kennedy Hall incident to superiors, their attorney Vincent Miller said.

    “My guys are in trouble for not reporting the Banditos to the Banditos,” Miller said, adding that his clients did report the incident right away to a lieutenant they trusted.

    Prosecutors declined to file criminal charges against the deputies who Miller says attacked his clients. But an administrative investigation found that some employees at the East L.A. station were acting as so-called shot callers, controlling scheduling and events at the station, Cmdr. April Tardy said, using a term often used to describe top leaders in prisons and gangs.

    In Compton, the Executioners ruled the station using a similar structure, Gonzalez testified. About 15 to 20 deputies are Executioners, he said, and at least a handful more are prospective members who are “chasing ink.” He said “it’s the word out” that only two deputies are inked each year — women and Black people aren’t allowed. A vast majority of members and prospects, he said, have been involved in high-profile shootings or beatings.

    After a shooting, members will have a party at a bar and call it a “998 debrief,” referencing the code for a deputy-involved shooting. Some say it’s to celebrate that a deputy survived, he said. But often, Gonzalez said, after the party, the deputy and his partner will get inked. Gonzalez said he’d never been invited to nor attended one.

    “I think it is some type of reward,” Gonzalez testified. He added later: “So we call it ‘ink chasers’ because they’re out there trying to show the rest of the members, the rest of the inked members that, you know, they’re worthy of that tattoo.”

    Gonzalez, 42, joined the department as a deputy in 2008. He was investigated by Los Angeles police in 2012 on an allegation of sexual misconduct. The district attorney’s office declined to file charges. He said in his deposition that he was relieved of duty for the off-duty incident but that the allegation was unfounded and he was not disciplined.

    Gonzalez’s attorney Alan Romero said that disclosing the allegation about his client “is totally irrelevant to the heroism of his coming forward to protect the public, and only serves to deter and frighten future whistleblowers from coming forward.”

    “The L.A. Times would be sending a clear message: If you want to blow the whistle on public corruption, be warned that we will dig into your history and disclose any false allegations that [were] ever made against you.”

    Gonzalez said in the deposition that Jaime Juarez, a deputy he identified as the Executioners’ shot caller, carried out a work slowdown last year when the acting captain refused to install a member as scheduling deputy. The powerful position, which Juarez had previously held, controls scheduling, days off and overtime, Gonzalez said.

    “There was nobody being arrested. Very minimal arrests were being done at that time,” Gonzalez said of the work slowdown. “We have a booking line. We would hardly ever see a unit in the booking line with, you know — you know, with suspects in their back seats. It was so obvious that, you know, we all noticed that.”

    The Times has requested arrest records from the Compton station to determine whether such a slowdown occurred. Juarez did not respond to a request for comment. Elizabeth Gibbons, an attorney representing Juarez, denied the allegations against him on Friday but declined to comment further, citing the ongoing Sheriff’s Department investigation.

    In 2017, Gonzalez said, the Compton station captain at the time had turned to that deputy to boost arrest statistics after the captain was reprimanded for low numbers at the station. Monthly arrests per deputy more than doubled and that captain was eventually promoted, he said.

    Gonzalez testified that he faced blowback earlier this year after anonymously reporting an Executioner to the Internal Affairs Bureau for assaulting a fellow deputy. After Gonzalez made his report, graffiti appeared at the station calling him a rat. He was warned by another deputy to be careful.

    “They know it was you,” Gonzalez recalled being told. He filed a legal claim against the county in June alleging retaliation.

    One deputy told Gonzalez he didn’t want to partner with him out of fear of getting “screwed with,” he said.

    Gonzalez testified that he feared for his safety from the clique.

    “I think that I now call them a gang because that’s what gangs do. They beat up other people,” he said. ” I call that a gang. Their focus is not the station, their focus is not the department, and their focus is not their job. Their focus is their group.”

    #121301
    wv
    Participant

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