In 1971 I was working at a Boys' Club in the Germantown section of Philadelphia, running an after-school programme. One day the Police Athletic League representative dropped off a pile of colouring books for the younger kids. On the cover was a picture of a policeman walking hand-in-hand with a little girl, clearly (or so I thought) helping her across the street. My assumption, however, wasn't shared by seven-year-old Tanya. The minute she was handed a book she shouted out, “She's in trouble. He's taking her away to jail.” I shouldn't have been surprised. I had lived in Philly for four years. They were the “Frank Rizzo years.” The notorious “tough cop” was remembered for wearing a billy club tucked into his tuxedo cummerbund. I knew of the no-holds-barred way police interacted with the African American community and, though white, I had experienced some of this rough treatment myself. Still, Tanya's reaction surprised me. I tried to tell her otherwise, but she and the other youngsters in the programme would have none of it. As these little ones saw it, the police were not in their community to “protect and serve.” Tanya and the other kids at that Boys' Club are in their fifties now. As I watched the Michael Brown saga unfold, they came to mind and I wondered how they saw it. The tragedy of Ferguson has certainly generated a national conversation about race, about the over-militarisation of local police departments, about the excessive use of force, and about the prosecutor's abuse of the notoriously unfair Grand Jury system. What we have not yet discussed, and need to, is the culture of hostility and impunity that has come to define too much of our nation's approach to policing. When I saw the excerpts of testimony from the Ferguson Grand Jury, I was immediately struck by one glaring discrepancy. It wasn't whether Michael Brown had his hands up or down, whether he was charging or staggering, or whether Officer Darren Wilson gave fair warning before shooting. It was at the very beginning of the story, when Wilson claims he said to Brown, “Why don't you guys walk on the sidewalk?” Brown's friend, Dorian Johnson, claims that Wilson shouted, “Get the f--- on the sidewalk.” I knew which account Tanya would believe. I must admit that I also found Johnson's recollection of the events of the day to be more believable. I've seen such displays of “in your face” police hostility before. They happen often, and all too often they accelerate into violence, ending in tragedy. And therein lies the heart of the problem that we must acknowledge. After New York City recently declined to charge police in the homicide of Eric Garner, The New York Times ran a string of pictures of young black men who had similarly been victims of what the Times called “fatal police encounters” in the last decade. There are too many of these killings. Eugene Robinson, writing in The Washington Post, presents a tally suggesting over 1,000 per year, with too many of them being African American males or young men with disabilities. Reviewing the stories behind many of these killings, a pattern emerges of a hostile us-versus-them mentality on the part of officers, escalating into the use of brute force and tragic death. Race is a key factor here, but it is not only African American men who are victims of this pattern of behaviour. I recall the story of Ethan Saylor, the young man with Downs Syndrome who didn't understand why he had to leave the movie theatre after the film he was watching had finished. Three off-duty Maryland policemen, working as security at the theatre, roughly wrestled him to the ground, handcuffed him and watched as he suffocated to death. They failed to recognise Ethan's disability and deal with him accordingly. They too were acquitted. Ethan's story was not unlike that of Eric Garner, who was killed when a New York City officer applied a banned chokehold. The video of a handcuffed Garner lying on the ground saying, “I can't breathe,” as officers watch him die, is sickening. Because of their long experience, African Americans understand the injustice and horror of this out of control situation. A recent Washington Post poll found that while 58 per cent of whites agreed with the Ferguson Grand Jury's decision not to indict Officer Wilson, 83 per cent of African Americans disagreed. A New York Times poll showed that 45 per cent of African Americans believed that they had been treated badly by police because of their race. Now, I don't doubt for a moment that many police officers feel at risk in many of the circumstances they are forced to confront. And I also know many good policemen and policewomen who are motivated by a strong commitment to community service, and who perform heroically, saving lives, rescuing those in need and defending the innocent. It is for the sake of these good officers and for the communities they serve that the culture of policing must change. I remember a few years back, when we were inundated by stories of paedophile clergy, a priest at my church took to the pulpit one Sunday and spoke from his heart. He decried the victimisation of so many innocent children and condemned those who had committed these horrible criminal acts. He went on to denounce the bishops of his church who had for years covered up these crimes. My priest charged that these bishops had not only absolved criminal behaviour and continued to put other children at risk, but they had also made victims of good priests who were now being looked at, as a group, with suspicion. The same holds true in the case of police. The behaviour of the hostile and threatening cop and the acquittal of those who have indiscriminately used unnecessary lethal force cast a long shadow. That was why little Tanya couldn't even imagine a kind policeman. This is the discussion we must have. It's not just about the weapons police use or making them wear body cameras. It's about the culture of hostility and impunity that has separated communities from the police. The problem doesn't begin with the patrolman on the beat. It begins with the training they receive and the bad behaviour that is tolerated by those who lead them. And it won't change until the heads of police departments take action to hold officers accountable for bad behaviour, and until prosecutors assume responsibility and indict police who use unreasonable force. The writer is president of the Arab American Institute.
