The first interaction I saw with inner city kids and police left me shaken. The police had been called because of a fight near the youth center where I worked. The police came, but by the time they arrived, the perpetrators were gone and only a few people were around. I thanked the police and they left. The kids mumbled.
When I listened closer to what they were saying, I realized it wasn’t about the fight—It was about the police. I was shocked to hear their disrespect and anger to policemen and women they didn’t know, and who had simply come to make sure these kids were protected. I didn’t understand—it didn’t make sense.
I was taught to smile and thank police when I saw them. I was told that being a policewoman was a noble job profession—working to help others. I believed it and I believe it. When one of my friends told me he wanted to be a policeman, I cheered him on and respected him for it.
I lived a different reality than my kids from the inner city. A policeman/woman has never been to my house. Most of the kids first memories include a policeman/woman coming to (or into) their house and taking someone they love: often a father or older brother. I grew up with my mom telling me heroic stories of policemen/women. They grew up hearing their mom cry because the police had taken so and so, because the police had (insert many statements here).
I can look at this and say, “The police were just doing their job.” Which is a true statement. But I can also look at this and say, “What a traumatic experience, seeing loved ones taken and punished from such an early age, without understanding why. How sad for a child to have to grow up so quickly, trying to take care of their mother and others who are bitter and spewing hate from a very hard life.” Which is also a true statement.
Think of the things you were raised to hate (for good reasons or for bad reasons): it is very hard to change those habits. You often don’t even know a reality without that hatred and bitterness. This is what my kids in the inner city face. When I realized that, I felt overwhelmed and without answers.
Whether or not you have seen the realities of inner city life for yourself, they are there, and they are real. The people born there have an uphill struggle that people not born there do not have. They are lacking most, if not all of these structures: family, education, social, economic…These are things they did not choose, just as you did not choose, to be born into.
I do not agree with how my kids from the inner city treated policemen and women: but I understand why they did. I worked hard to show them a better way: through personal friendship and open conversations about police and just about everything else.
Yes, it is their choice to respect or disrespect police. Yes, it is their choice to follow or break the law. Yes, their actions lead to consequences; and no one chooses their own consequences. But yes—the cards are stacked against them in ways those of us outside the inner city don’t understand. And we should be working to understand rather than condemn.
1. To say that someone isn’t hurting when they say they are hurting is unhelpful and untrue. I am #BlueLivesMatter and I believe most all policemen and women are good people who became police to help people and make the world a better place. I also know they are human. When they mess up (because we all mess up), they need to be held accountable for their actions. And most of the time, I believe they are.
2. But having more transparency and honesty and accountability will NEVER be the wrong way to go. And I know all good policemen and women agree with me.
3. More assistance and help is needed in the inner city. It will take at least a generation to undo the effects of poverty—and one of those effects is animosity towards police. If you are #BlueLivesMatter or #BlackLivesMatter, then get yourself into the inner city and start helping. Might I suggest Good News Ministry Youth Center if you live in Indianapolis?
4. Just because another problem is worse doesn’t mean it isn’t a problem. Black on black violence does not negate police violence. They are both problems, just as Cancer affects many more people than AIDS, but it doesn’t mean that curing AIDS isn’t important. One unnecessary death is too many—end of statement.
5. Face the WHOLE problem. Notice I have said “Inner city,” and not black: because while mostly minority, this is much more of an economic prejudice than just a black prejudice. My kids, while mostly black, were all colors.
6. Here is what I know can lead to change: personal relationships and open conversations. What If a child in the inner city opened their door to a policeman dropping off a Thanksgiving Turkey, rather than coming to take daddy? What if the policewoman let them ride in her car to go to the doctor, rather than to juvenile?
7. We should all be working to keep police and ourselves safe. I didn’t know what do to when stopped—I always forget and get flustered. Respect and caring for others is always the right choice—whether #Black or #Blue or, hopefully, BOTH.
8. Work to have more inner city kids grow up to become policemen and women. Again, personal relationships and having THOSE WE KNOW and love being the ones we talk about is what will bring about true change because it touches our hearts.
9. Realize you don’t have to agree with everything to be #Blue or #Black. I do not stand with police who have treated/treat others wrongly. I also do not stand with #BlackLivesMatter individuals who have treated/treat others wrongly.
10. It is not about hashtags, it is about hearts. Jesus is the answer, because only Jesus can change hearts. Jesus is what will bring hope and change to the inner city. Jesus is what will transform and create opportunities for police and inner city reconciliation.
Note: I am not suggesting this will solve everything, or even anything on either side. There are issues and solutions I have not mentioned or even thought up that are important and valid. I am not writing this to minimalism or stereotype anyone. I still have a lot to learn, and hope to keep learning.
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