Every now and then, something happens in life that reminds us why we must continue to fight the fight to remove barriers, advocate for fairness and disavow discrimination.
It happened to me last Sunday, when my dog was run over by a truck as a friend and I shoveled snow.
You see, my college friend is originally from Alabama. Visiting me that weekend, she was intrigued by all the Indiana snow. She wanted to “get out in it” so after my snow blower went kaput on me, she and I began the arduous task of physically shoveling the nearly 7-inches of snow. For her it was fun, for me it was a frustrating necessity.
So we shoveled away, often finding ourselves the object of rapt attention by gapers passing in their vehicles. One man was gawking so hard his truck veered closer to my driveway and sidewalk. Recognizing this, my overprotective dog went into defense mode. The truck ran my dog over right in front of us; a disturbing and frightening event to witness.
As we screamed in horror and informed him that he ran over the dog, the guy became belligerent and sped away.
Instinctively, I memorized the license plate number and ran to call police. I explained to the dispatch worker that I didn’t know if there was anything that could be done, but I wanted to call just in case. The helpful dispatch worker informed me since I had a license plate number, I needed to file a report. She said she would send an officer to my home.
My first instinct was to rush my injured dog to the nearest pet hospital, but I waited on the officer as instructed. When he arrived, my day got even worse. Walking up, he appeared obviously perturbed. When I tearfully explained what happened, he began to chuckle and said, “It’s just a dog.” Then with a smirk, he said “At least it’s not dead.”
He continued to provoke me by laughing in my face and speaking to me in an incredibly patronizing way. He then stated there was nothing he could do, despite what the dispatcher had told me.
I quickly informed him that a.) I didn’t appreciate his insensitive, condescending manner and; b.) I would discuss his unprofessional demeanor with higher ups in the department.
Unwilling to allow the situation to escalate further, I then went into my home and let my friend finish the conversation with the officer. Later, she told me he was just as unapologetic and rude to her as he was to me.
The encounter bothered me in various ways but the most blaring was the lack of respect this IMPD officer had for me as a human being. Before I even spoke, he was rude, agitated and unprofessional. My mind immediately raced to the hundreds of men and women who encounter police officers on a daily basis; some like me who need assistance, others in danger, and others pulled over for traffic violations.
I also thought of individuals who are unfairly profiled simply because they fit a “stereotypical description” like being a Black man or an “undocumented” Hispanic.
No person—particularly someone who seeks help—should be subjected to maltreatment.
While I was worried about my dog, I was also concerned with the countless people who have had similar encounters with officers, yet didn’t have the courage to voice their discontent regarding the improper treatment, or who may not even understand that as American citizens we have rights and should be treated with respect.
I grow weary for the millions of people nationwide who are treated with such disregard, yet have done nothing wrong. I know my rights and I was unafraid to inform the officer of my displeasure with him nor was I scared to file a formal complaint, but others aren’t as knowledgeable or even courageous enough to do so because time and time again they’ve seen the ugly side of police work. The side that often leads to brutality and other forms of misconduct. Those profiled by officers and those individuals who lack the “voice” to demand at the very least, respectful dialogue, they are the people I thought of last Sunday. Their encounters with rude, even rogue officers, is why it has always been important for me, personally and even professionally, to speak for them and expose the injustices they endure.
Ironically, in recent months, the Indianapolis Recorder Newspaper has focused on strengthening the relationships between minorities and police officers by showing the positive side of law enforcement and those outstanding officers who work hard to protect the streets of Indianapolis.
These positive stories have featured IMPD officers who do positive things like the members of the Street Operations Group, and individuals like public information officer Rafael Diaz, Chief Rick Hite and Director of Public Safety Troy Riggs.
The Recorder’s goal has been to unflinchingly report on the ugly truths of police brutality such as deaths of unarmed Black men in Ferguson, Mo. and New York City, while also acknowledging the reality that such callousness is not reflective of all law enforcement officers.
While unfair treatment against Blacks, or anyone else for that matter, is always at the forefront of my mind, that Sunday I considered this painful issue with even more intensity.
That cold afternoon, I wasn’t Shannon Williams from the Recorder, or even an anonymous professional in a business suit. I was simply a regular person shoveling snow.
When I shared this experience, people responded with statements like, “That officer didn’t know who he was dealing with,” and “Good thing you know people who can help you.”
No matter one’s profession, associates, or even corporate affiliation, we all should be treated with respect. We should all be treated with fairness.
This incident is bigger than me and my pet. It’s about the obvious disregard and lack of respect some (key word “some”) officers have for the civilian population. The officer I encountered quickly agitated the situation. If I’d allowed him to rattle me in a way that would have resulted in aggression on my part, the situation could have escalated for the worse at a rapid rate.
This incident reminded me that while there is much good in today’s law enforcement, equal attention must be given to identifying the “bad apples” in the barrel. Only through quantifiable accountability will effective change translate into fewer bad apples in law enforcement.
I’m interested to learn and report on the ways IMPD officials ensure their officers will treat the public fairly, and finally ask, if officers are not behaving justly, what punishments are being implemented.
