NOPD

When I first moved to New Orleans I heard from so many people that the cops in New Orleans were generally not the best. I have tried and continue to try to be open-minded. I know that there are many great cops working for justice in this city, but I have just continue to be let down by them. They live here…they should know how to communicate with people, maybe they have lost hope for this lost city. Here are a few examples of my disappointment…

Last year our house was broken into. My roommates lost their computers, a DVD player, and a digital camera. I was lucky – they didn’t even go into my room, but it still felt terrible. We called the police, Court and I decided to stay outside in our cars because didn’t feel comfortable going inside of our house in the dark. We waited, and waited, and waited. Eventually we couldn’t wait any longer – our friends came over and checked the house out for us. After securing all the doors and windows we went inside. We waited for three more hours. The police came, didn’t seem to have any interest in our problems, left and we never heard anything again.

One of my sweetest and quietest students told me in the middle of our grammar lesson that her mama was taken to jail. When the other students at her group looked up in surprise of her blunt comment she said in an embarrassed tone that they weren’t supposed to hear her. That she only wanted to tell me. After we agreed that we were all great at keeping secrets she seemed alright. I talked to her more in the afternoon. She told me that they busted in the door because her mom didn’t want to let them in. They shined lights in her face and put her handcuffs. “They talked to her mean, they wouldn’t let her put pants on, they took her in her nightgown.” One of her sisters tried to stop the cops and they threw her down too. All while their father jumped out the back window. She told me they were after her dad because he sells drugs. The kids somehow finished getting ready for school and made it on time for breakfast – she if she didn’t say anything, I don’t think I would have ever found out. When I hear these things (much to often) my heart breaks. Especially when it’s the sweet little kids, you just want to take them home with you. My reaction was at first anger towards her parents. How could that father leave his wife and children to deal with the cops? It is so frustrating that the dad is selling drugs…but what are the alternatives? A $6.15 minimum wage job in this broken economy? He isn’t on drugs himself, he is trying to provide for his family, he is not abusive, he is actually there – that is probably the most impressive part. I don’t know the answer, but I do know that there is absolutely no reason for the cops to put this mother and her young children through such a dramatic scene. This isn’t NYPD Blue, these are real kids who are going to have this image of their mom on the ground in her nightgown, handcuffed for the rest of their life.

It was a beautiful Saturday morning and I decide to go on a short run around the neighborhood. I went a different way than normal to check out another part of our neighborhood. I knew that it was not as nice of an area, but it was 11am, daylight, and kids and families were out enjoying the sunshine. I was running in the middle of the street, aware of my surroundings as I have learned to be in all areas of this city or any city for that matter. A cop pulled up next to me and I said Good Morning. He replied, “Do you know where you are?” I had no good response at the moment, so I just said “Yes, thank-you, I am being safe.” Both cops looked at my like I was crazy and continued on their way. I was confused. Thankful, I guess, that they were looking out for me, mad that they weren’t actually doing anything productive. My thoughts were interrupted by a few kids voices, “What did they ask you?” “Oh, they just said Good Morning.” What was I supposed to say? They were worried about my safety outside of your house. They think this is an unsafe neighborhood. They didn’t ask the kids if they knew where they were. They didn’t seem worried about their safety. I ended up running around the block about three times with the group of kids. We passed the football, they showed me how to use their long board, I let them listen to my iPod. I wished I would have had a smarter comment for the cops. Yes, I do know exactly where I am. This is my neighborhood, these are my kids.

Walking up to the office on Friday evening I saw a cop car pulled up I the parking lot. I guessed that some students were not picked up and the police were called to locate the parents. As I walked in I saw my principal, vice-principal, and secretary. Standing up by the counter were two cops with their shiny badges and chests puffed up. In the corner sat two little boys(8 and 6 years old) heads hanging down, ashamed. The adults were talking as if the students were not in the room – as if they didn’t already feel unwanted. I walked in during the middle of the conversation and tried to mind my own business – signing out and picking up papers from my box. This is what I heard.
“Do you have the paperwork to file a case?”
“Ma’am, we are cops – we file criminal cases.”
“Their mom came at 3pm and decided to leave without them.”
“Like I said, we file criminal cases.”
“And where are the kids supposed to go?”
“You will have to wait for someone to pick them up.”
“Sir, we HAVE been waiting.”
“Its not that long to wait.”
‘It is 5pm and we get off work at 3:15.”
“Well we can’t do anything with them its not like we are babysitters.”
“And neither are we, this is a school not a daycare.”
“Well you are closer than we are.”

“BUHHH” That was my reaction from the corner. I couldn’t contain it and I don’t have any idea how the leadership staff at my school kept their cool. What do these guys do? They are pretty into themselves, I could tell that just from their body language. If they only work with “criminal offenses” they better start working a little harder because this city needs some help. And do they have any idea that this is when it starts. Give these kids some hope, give them some love so that in ten years you aren’t hauling them off to jail. Stop it where you can. Care about your job, care about your city’s future, treat people with respect. Saying ma’am certainly doesn’t cover up anything. And since when is it not a crime to come to school to pick up your kids and decide you don’t want to take them home?

Something needs to change...