Friday, August 5th was my last day interning in New York. I was determined to get to my office early because of promises that had been made about free bagels (and I was also eager to complete this step in my journey to finding a career). As I rushed to the bus station, I saw that my normal route was blocked off. There was a police vehicle in the way of the fork in the road that would’ve led me directly to the station. This was the only route I knew to the station, and my navigation system wasn't showing me anything else, so I freaked out a little. After all, I had spent the entire morning learning how to braid my hair a certain way and now, with any delays, I would easily miss the bus. So I slowed down and pulled into the empty parking lot next to the fork so that I could ask a police officer when the road would be open and why it was closed.
I got out of the car timidly and walked in the direction of the two officers and what I saw next was horrifying—one of those things that you can’t “unsee.” Because it had been concealed to travelers of the road by the cop car, it wasn’t until that moment that I saw the Mazda that had been entirely flipped over and smashed in multiple places. A smattering of crushed glass speckled the road, glimmering in the sunlight. Behind the sedan was the car that had apparently collided head-on with the Mazda. Before I even got the chance to ask the officer why the road was closed, my jaw dropped in horror.
“I’m so sorry,” I stammered. “I didn’t see that there.” I then began to back away, but the officer said it was okay and that if I wanted to get onto that road, I should just take the next right and it would land me there. He was completely calm. His calmness and kindness actually helped me calm myself down.
There was no time for a polite Hello Officer, how are you? There was no time for anything except my jaw dropping and me stammering those words because I don’t think I have ever seen a more violent car crash—and up so close—in my entire life.
But what I learned on that day was a real-life depiction of something we all know: every single day, police who do their jobs the right way are calm and collected, caring, and devoted to protecting the communities they serve. It seems simple since we all know it, but when I came into contact with this kind of scenario, where a cop has been kind even in the face of something so horrific, I began to marvel at how cops do this all the time. It became evident that the horrific scene I encountered was something cops had been calmly monitoring for hours. For hours, they stood and stared right at that glass, that car whose passengers could be deceased at this moment; they stared at something that makes civilians’ jaws drop in shock. This is their job.
I think that these cops deserve praise. They deserve praise for their bravery. They deserve praise for doing their job well and also managing to be kind, empathetic, and grounded. Cops who do not possess these values and abuse their power, letting personal biases and racism cloud their judgment, do not deserve such praise.
I learned something else that day, something related to recent news articles: to be a good cop and to maybe try to foster better relations with people of color, you don’t need to pull them over and surprise them with ice cream; you don't need to go overboard with pictures of smiling children hugging your officers. No, you just have to start by being a good person.
