We live in a generation in which there has been so much talk on the topics of police brutality, police racial profiling or police harassment. We have started to have a negative connotation of the men and women in uniform, and we've begun to feel paranoia instead of safety. The young adults of the 2000s start to question: What it is that the men and women in blue even stand for? Is it actual justice? The media portrays what they want us to see, and we eat it all up. I'm not here to write about how they risk their lives every day to — contrary to popular belief — protect and serve the citizens of the U.S., but instead to talk about how these officers are human beings. That each individual in uniform is a real, breathing person. Someone with a life at home. They are mothers, uncles, aunts, sisters, brothers, friends and lovers. They are courageous warriors, and to people like me and so many others, they are who I call "dad."
My dad has been a police officer since I was five years old. Therefore, the sight of a gun never really startled me. I was taught at a young age what to do if an intruder broke in, and I was given a code word to tell my parents if I felt that something was off. There were days when we loaded and reloaded the gun and walked throughout our own house, practicing "cutting the pie" for hours. I knew where the safe was and what exactly was in it. I always knew to walk a little ahead of my dad so he could keep an eye out; the leader of a wolf pack. I paid attention to my surroundings, I noticed street signs and the precise directions on how to get where I was going and became a pro at finding alternative routes to get home.
Growing up, it was always asked, "What does YOUR dad do?" I said, "He's a cop." I knew that this meant he drove around in a police car with a uniform on and that he, under no circumstances, ate donuts of any kind. It wasn't until I was in high school that I fully grasped the concept. My father, every single day, risks his life. He puts himself in dangerous, unsettling predicaments. We all remember that one moment when we hug our dads goodbye for the day, and have that life-stopping fear of "Please come home safely. I love you." But he isn't scared of anything, it seems. He is almost kind of a super hero; definitely Marvel. There is nothing that can make someone more proud than to say that their parent is changing the world. So going against all this negativity towards police officers, I say, everyone is entitled to their own opinions. Just know that as they protect and serve YOU, and those who are children or family of officers will do what it takes to protect them.
Alright, being a daddy's girl is one thing, but being a daddy's girl to a police officer? Talk about overprotection, especially when you have your first real boyfriend. The meet and greet of an anxiety-ridden high school boy meeting a big, strong father is already tense enough, but when you walk in your door hand in hand with your beau to see that your dad hasn't even taken off his uniform yet? Ahem, "Hello there, young man, what's your name?" Gee, c'mon dad, I really liked this one. In all reality, a dad who has a daughter will always be the only man she can ever depend on — thank you, Frenchie, for teaching us that. He is always going to look out for her. But a cop's daughter? She doesn't exactly need as much protection. Why? She's grown up to be like her bada** dad.
She has watched him position himself at restaurants with his back against the wall; this way, he can observe who is walking in the place at all times. She does this now too. She has seen him constantly check around the corner of alleys and doorways when walking downtown at night —she is the one who looks out for her friends when they all go out. She has heard his endless spiels of how to get out of a chokehold or what to do if someone physically attacks her. She carries her car keys in between her fingers like a knife. She has witnessed him practicing memorizing license plates and finds herself playing games with the license plates she sees. She has seen him control a car like Vin Diesel when the weather gets bad; she doesn't get scared to drive in the snow. She has seen her dad in newspapers and commercials, recruiting others to help protect the community. She's not afraid to chase her dreams. When she falls and gets heartbroken? She knows her daddy is right there. Handcuffs in pocket, magazine full. We are the #BabyBlues.
