We
might sit down over coffee, and I would start by telling you that I have done a
lot of good things in my short five-year career. I was the first officer
on-scene for a call at a college campus which stated that a delusional person
was wandering the halls of a dormitory with a gun. In that incident, we found
the person responsible just as he was about to commit a sexual assault. A few
months ago, I went to a call for shots fired, ran after an armed person in the
dark, and caught him with the help of my partners. A few weeks ago, I was part
of a group of officers that caught an “armed and dangerous” murderer after a
high-speed pursuit. In all of these incidents, no one was hurt. And none of
them were on the news. My interest is not to criticize the media, but simply to
point out that for every negative news story involving the police, there are
thousands of positive stories which proceed normally, without incident, and
without recognition.
I
would tell you my stories of doing good deeds. I have saved one life directly,
and many others indirectly. I have given out many, many warnings when I could have
given out citations. I have let people go home when I could have taken them to
jail. Every year, I spend hundreds of dollars of my own money buying food for
the hungry, transportation for the stranded, and shelter for the homeless. I
might tell you about the time I paid the towing fee to get a DUI suspect’s car
out of the tow yard after discovering that his impairment was mostly due to an
undiagnosed brain injury. There have been a handful of times where I nearly
shot someone, but didn’t, and mere milliseconds made the difference. I have
never been accused of excessive force or brutality, and I make an effort to
stay composed, even when people spit in my face, or worse. More recently, even
after someone coughed on me repeatedly while telling me that he wanted me to
die from coronavirus, I stayed composed.
I
would explain to you that not losing my temper is one small part of my job, as
is the ideal of being superhuman. For any personality trait, I’m expected to
know the exact range between two extremes, and I’m expected know exactly how
much of it to apply, and exactly when. I would offer to take you on a
ride-along, and show you that my job is incredibly difficult. I have to record
every single thing I do on camera, thereby subjecting myself to criticism from
anyone and everyone, including myself. I have to be everywhere, all the time,
and I have to be everything to everyone, immediately, and perfectly
I
would tell you these things not to garner sympathy, but to provide you with
insight into that which you might not see. I would do this to illustrate that
most police officers are good people like me. I would explain how part of me
cringes at the comment that I’m “one of the good ones,” as if I’m the exception
to the rule. Because the truth is, I represent the norm. I would be tempted to
point out statistical realities to support this point, but numbers never seem
to hold any gravity when compared to the raw footage of a bad cop making a bad
decision. And the sad fact of the matter is, I am one person, and my range of
control doesn’t extend very far beyond my own decisions. But I do what I can,
and I try to lead by example. Still, I can’t possibly account for the actions of
the eight hundred thousand police officers in this country. Most, like me,
strive for good. Some, being merely human, make mistakes. Others, demonstrably
sociopathic, commit ugly, abhorrent crimes for which they should be imprisoned.
I
would point out that all institutions evolve over time, whether it’s religion,
government, or law enforcement. While institutional change in the criminal
justice system is needed, I would suggest that one does not need to demonize
“THE” police as a whole to achieve that end. Cops are not all the same. I would
ask that you judge me not by my uniform, but by the content of my character. I
would point out that “us versus them” thinking is always bad, no matter which
side you’re on.
My
patrol shift is remarkably diverse, and I am bi-racial. These demographic
trends towards diversity in my department coincide with an overall shift in
police culture, directed towards de-escalation and service to the community. I
acknowledge that while my department may be ahead of the curve, my narrow
experience isn’t necessarily indicative of the status quo. You and I would
agree that law enforcement can be improved, and we could ponder about how
things might look if there were no budgetary constraints at all. If only we
could attain the selectivity and educational rigor of an Ivy League school, the
years-long training of a doctor, the insight of a cultural anthropologist, and
the broadened mindset of a philosopher. With a sigh, I would lament with you
that progress itself never comes as quickly or as completely as it should.
I
would describe how disheartening and strange it is to be hated by the very
people for whom I risk life and limb to protect. I could tell you about my
permanent back injury, and all of the other times I’ve been assaulted and
injured. I might tell you what it’s like to attend a police funeral. To fight
and die for a populace who ignores you, or worse yet, hates you, engenders a
lot of doubt, but it also speaks to a remarkable quality of character. This is
what weighs on me most heavily, and it is an added layer of confusion that
rests on top of the daily barrage of human-to-human ugliness to which I must
bear witness.
I
sometimes wonder what my life would have been like if I had chosen a different
career, and why I continue to sacrifice my physical health, my mental health,
and my personal life, for strangers. But then the prominent engravings of
ethical considerations of right and wrong, tediously ground in me since birth
and deepened over time, become present on my mind. Civilized society can’t
exist without rules, and the people to enforce those rules. Someone has to take
the point, and go out in front. Someone has to do it. And so if it must be
done, it should be done right. Doing the job right demands a set of people with
a deeply-set inscription of ideals, like integrity and personal sacrifice. It
is evident to me that one of the ingredients that causes the arc of history to
bend towards justice is sacrifice. I choose to suffer for the benefit of the
whole because that is the task that best suits my disposition. I break my back
by pulling the weeds and hauling the water and tilling the garden of our
society, all so that plants may grow.
I
would implore you to see that we are both disgusted by bad cops. I would
suggest that because we both believe in and demand things like equality and
justice, you and I are not so different, and I am not your enemy. And because
we both want the same things, there does not have to be so much darkness
between us. We both want to see positive change for humanity, and so we look
towards the light at the end of the tunnel.
I
would describe the pit in my chest when I watch George Floyd’s last moments,
not only because of the horror and the inhumanity, but because of what it means
for my profession. I envision a pool of water in a cupped hand; a tiny,
delicately built reservoir of trust and confidence, fragile and tenuous,
slipping through the fingers, vanishing away like a dream. I see the subsequent
reaction as the hand is rolled up into a balled fist whereby thousands upon
thousands of upstanding, honest police officers like me will have to contend
with death threats, bottles and bricks thrown in our faces, and gunfire. I see
the omen of a white glove, knocking on my parents’ door in the middle of the
night, the harbinger of news too terrible to bear.
And
so you and I would talk, and I would commiserate with you, listen to your
grievances, and be open to suggestions about how to move forward in a
productive way. I would ask that we not allow anger to spiral down into
outright chaos and insanity. I would ask that we avoid hurting each other, and
that I want both of us to be able to go home safely. And I would tell you that
I will protect your safety and your rights with everything that I have, and all
that I can muster.
At
the end of the conversation, I would hope that you see me for who I am, not
what I am. I would be tempted to bring things to a close by trying to say
something magnanimous without sounding silly or robotic, perhaps by mentioning
the oath that I swore to uphold. And so instead of repeating platitudes, I
would simply remind you that even if you still hate me, if you ever dial 911 or
call out for help, I will come running. I promise. I will come running.
And
then I would open my palm, and offer you my outstretched hand.
Sincerely,
Officer Templeton
According to the warrant, on May 1st police were called to
the 7700 Block of Kiltipper Ct in Laurel, MD for a reported domestic assault.
Upon arrival, officers learned that the victim and Mijango-Martinez had a physical
altercation, in which Mijango-Martinez assaulted the victim with a weapon,
causing severe injuries before fleeing the scene in a vehicle. 
