Enough Is Enough

I fear death. Who doesnt? What I fear more, is that my death would be meaningless & acceptable to the public I protect. Just another number. - @mperfectwarrior

We all know how we felt on our very first day at work. Nervous. Anxious. Our mind is both caught up trying to process our fear of the unknown, an as well as our hope for what the future has in store. I never met her, but I can imagine Officer Ashley Guindon of the Prince William County Police (VA) knew those feelings all too well. Unfortunately, Officer Guindon never made it home from her first day. She was shot and killed responding to a domestic disturbance, and two of her fellow officers were also shot.

I sit here, as I’ve sat here so many times over the past several years whenever I get the Officer Down notification on my phone, and just spent some time in thought. Why? I wonder. I’ve responded to the same type of call before, and many officers around the country do on a daily basis. Why did we get to walk away from it, but she doesn’t? How do officers survive 30 years on the job, but her time was up after not even 1 day? What possesses someone to kill another human being simply because of the job that they do and the uniform that they wear?

And as I sit here, as I ponder those questions, I’m struck by the level of indifference of the world around me. This woman, like so many men and women before her, laid down her life and made the ultimate sacrifice in the service of her community. She laid down her life coming to the aid of a victim of domestic violence. She died the same way she lived: as a hero. And for what? For a society that sees her as expendable.

The rate of police officer deaths by gunfire in 2016 is up 1,100% (!!!) from 2015 at the same exact date. Let’s pause and consider that for a moment. Not 10%, not 100%, but 1,100%. That’s astronomical. And that’s just the officers that have not survived. It seems as though almost every day, I see that another officer has been shot. Often times more than one.

But, that’s not what carries the news of the day. Unless you’re in law enforcement yourself, or are friends with someone in law enforcement, it’s highly unlikely that you’ll see much of it in your social media feeds. You won’t see protests in the streets, you won’t see anger, you won’t see outrage, and you won’t see outspoken politicians. Sure, there will be a hero’s funeral, there will be a family to receive the folded American flag, but by and large, the death of a police officer hardly registers a blip on the national radar outside of the thin blue line. 

Instead, what you will see, what you will find, is indifference. The same people that blow up social media with great regularity about police misconduct or overreach are silent. The same people that waste not even a second condemning an officer who defends their life with deadly force are nowhere to be found when that officers dies at the hands of a criminal. The same news organizations (Huffington Post, The Guardian, Slate, etc.) that would blow up the airwaves if the circumstances were reversed have bare minimum coverage on the death of a hero.

Then there’s the politicians. Oh, the politicians. I have watched as Presidential candidates have done everything they can to vilify, demonize, and disrespect police officers in an attempt to exploit tensions to pander and get votes. Just a few weeks ago, fresh off one of the deadliest weeks in recent memory when 7 police officers were killed in the line of duty, Bernie Sanders and Hillary Clinton used a Town Hall Forum as an opportunity to further demonize the police. In Nevada just weeks ago, Hillary Clinton refused to even take a picture with Elko (NV) police officers. In the same city, Bernie Sanders said, and I quote, “And I think it’s about high time in this country that our children can walk the streets at night without fear of being murdered by our police officers.” And just yesterday, on the day that Officer Guindon was murdered and her death marked an 1,100% increase in police deaths by gunfire for the year, Clinton spoke in her South Carolina victory speech, just a few short hours from Prince William, about people who have been killed by the police, with nary a mention of the officers that have made the ultimate sacrifice protecting their communities. 

That, my friends, is the society that we live in right now. Where we have politicians who quite literally not only do not give a damn about police officers, but who take every opportunity that they can to disrespect, demonize, and dehumanize them. They paint us as racists, as murderers, and in essence, as brutal terrorists. We sure don’t have any problem calling out politicians when their rhetoric inflames the ideals of mass shooters (I.E. the Planned Parenthood shooting, where Officer Garrett Swasey gave his life to keep the peace), but we sure do have a problem calling out politicians and public figures when their rhetoric further inflames hatred and helps to incite violence against law enforcement.

This is not to say that police officers are above reproach. On the contrary, we must apply the highest level of scrutiny to the actions of our law enforcement officers, as the authority they work with is bestowed to them by the trust that their community has in them to act in good faith. However, it is important to remember that we can call for reform, we can call for changes, we can call for accountability, and apply this high level of scrutiny through respectful and civil conversations. We can call for reform, while at the same time recognizing the work that our men and women do on these streets on a daily basis to keep us safe, and as well of the dangers that they inevitably come across as they do that work. And when an Officer makes the ultimate sacrifice keeping people safe, we can show respect to not only the way in which they died, but the way in which they lived.

As far as it’s concerned from an officer’s perspective, we are well aware of the danger that we face day in and day out. Our tactics are honed and based upon the lessons paid for by the lives of those who came before us. We walk past the memorials on a daily basis. We never know what awaits when we walk up to a car, and we never know what awaits us when we respond to a call. Ambushes. Guns. Resistance. Aggression. Even the possibility of death.

We fear death, much like anyone. But that doesn’t stop us from running towards calls for help. We never stop fighting for the people that cannot fight for themselves. That’s in our blood, and that’s just the kind of people that we are. We sure don’t do it for the pay, and as you can tell based upon what I’ve said before, we don’t do it for the adulation and attention, we do it because it’s who we are down to our very core.

But, given how we are treated, given how so many regard us nowadays, what we fear even more than death has come to pass: that our deaths will mean nothing to the people that we protect, and that they will be seen as acceptable.

And as far as that’s concerned: Enough is enough.

An Introduction

Understand that there is nothing morally superior about being a sheepdog; it is just what you choose to be. Also understand that a sheepdog is a funny critter: He is always sniffing around out on the perimeter, checking the breeze, barking at things that go bump in the night, and yearning for a righteous battle. That is, the young sheepdogs yearn for a righteous battle. The old sheepdogs are a little older and wiser, but they move to the sound of the guns when needed right along with the young ones.

Here is how the sheep and the sheepdog think differently. The sheep pretend the wolf will never come, but the sheepdog lives for that day. After the attacks on September 11, 2001, most of the sheep, that is, most citizens in America said, "Thank God I wasn't on one of those planes." The sheepdogs, the warriors, said, "Dear God, I wish I could have been on one of those planes. Maybe I could have made a difference." When you are truly transformed into a warrior and have truly invested yourself into warriorhood, you want to be there. You want to be able to make a difference.

There is nothing morally superior about the sheepdog, the warrior, but he does have one real advantage. Only one. And that is that he is able to survive and thrive in an environment that destroys 98 percent of the population.

- Lt. Col. Dave Grossman, of Sheep, Wolves, and Sheepdogs

My name is Brad Potter, and I am proud to say that I am a Sheepdog.  I come from a family with a dedicated history of public service, prolifically so in law enforcement, where my father is in his 43^rd year as a cop (23 as a Chief), my Uncle retired as a Lieutenant from his department after 30 years, and my Aunt retired as a Sergeant from the same department after 25 years (That’s where they met).  My Uncle and my Grandfather both served in war zones in the military (with my Uncle having 3 purple hearts from it), and my cousin is a volunteer firefighter.  So, I come from a great legacy of Sheepdogs.  And that is a legacy that has driven me to where I am today.

Before I go any further, here’s a little about me.  I am 23 years old.  I am a white police officer who works in an area that is predominantly black and 2/3 minority in totality.  I had an idyllic childhood.  I come from a family that was upper middle class, never being rich, but never having to worry about money.  I never saw my parents fight, and we never had any issues putting food on the table or a roof over our heads.  I grew up always playing sports and hanging out with friends without any real issues to speak of in life.  I was President of my Fraternity in college.  I graduated from my dream school, THE Ohio State University, with a double major in Criminology and Political Science without accumulating any student loan debt, thanks to scholarships and my wonderful parents.  I got my dream job right out of college.  I don’t tell you this to brag.  I’m well aware of my blessed and privileged upbringing, and thank God for the opportunities afforded to me every day.  I tell you this, so maybe you’ll understand why I do what I do today.

I didn’t become a police officer because I like exercising power over people.  I didn’t become a police officer because I was bullied as a kid and wanted to carry a gun around to feel all big and bad.  I certainly didn’t take this job for adulation, and didn’t take it for the pay either.

I became a police officer, because at the end of the day, I want to help people, and I wanted to pay forward what I had grown up with.  There are people in this country that wake up every day not knowing where their next meal will come from, without any idea whether they will have a roof over their head when the sun goes down, with potentially 1 or both parents gone from their lives, that don’t have access to quality education or opportunities, and are fighting just to survive.  How could I possibly do anything else with my life when we have people that live like this?  There are far too many people that are afraid to walk down the street, to wear a certain color of clothing, to sleep in their homes at night, or to co-exist with family in the same house.  These are ordinary things that I and many others have taken for granted in life.  So, at the end of the day, I decided to devote my life to doing my part to changing this world, and people’s lives for the better, one call at a time, and one person at a time.  If I can give just one kid somewhere the chance to live the life and have the childhood that he deserves, then that is all that matters.

When it came down it, becoming a cop wasn’t an instantaneous decision that I made based upon my family lineage.  No, I resisted the call to the Thin Blue Line for a long time.  I knew that I wanted to help people, I knew that I wanted to pay forward my own experiences, and I knew that I wanted an honorable career.  For a long time, I thought that would be spent as a prosecuting attorney.  After some job shadowing, that just wasn’t for me.  Then there was a time when I considered joining the military.  The honor and nobility of putting my life on the line for my country is something that appeals to me still to this day. 

At the end of the day, I found what I was born to do sitting right in front of my face the whole time: following in my family footsteps, and becoming a police officer.  On top of what I expounded upon earlier, it gave me the chance to serve my community and my country, and to work in a career that is of the most noble and honorable pursuits.  It gave me a chance to work outside and interact with people on a daily basis, and to have what is a normal day for me be filled with enough excitement and stories to cover years, decades, or lifetimes for someone else.  I truly love my job, and I believe 100% that I have the greatest job in the world.

That doesn’t mean that everything is all sunshine and rainbows.  For the most part, when someone calls for the police, it’s one of the worst moments of their lives.  One of my favorite quotes about policework comes from the TV show Flashpoint, where one of the officers who has reached his breaking point, wonders how another still does it.  The response says it all: “We’re catching people in the some of the worst moments of their lives.  Sometimes the very worst.  If they don’t have us, who do they have?”  We are the ones people call when things are out of control, when someone is hurt, when someone is under attack.  We are the ones that roll towards gunshot victims, active shooters, fights, domestic assaults, sexual assaults and everything else you can imagine.  Sometimes it works out well, however unfortunately sometimes, it doesn’t.  But regardless, we will never let a cry for help go unanswered, and we will always put our lives on the line to answer it.  Because it’s more than just a job, it’s more than just a title and more than just a uniform: it’s who we are down to our very core.  To quote John Cooper from SouthLAnd, “You’re a cop because you don’t know how not to be one.  If that’s how you feel, then you’re a cop.  If it’s not, then you’re not.”

I have started this blog because I am very passionate about law enforcement, very passionate about bringing the viewpoint of the cop on the beat to the table, and very passionate about doing my part to bridge the Officer-citizen gap.  I also do it, because writing is how I destress and how I deal with not only what I see on a day to day basis, but with the frustration that comes with being a police officer as it pertains to perception in 2015.  I have seen a lot of things that no one in this world should ever have to see.  By writing, it helps me to process it, and it helps me to deal with it.  It’s healthy, and it also serves a fulfilling purpose for me of giving people an inside look at what it’s like to be on the blue line keeping order between good and evil, and helps to bridge the gap.

Unfortunately, due to agency policy, I am unable to discuss on here any incident that I am involved in or witness, or any incident that is related to my department.  There is also a clause pertaining to not being able to write about “anything that would reflect negatively upon my department”, which I do not believe will be an issue.  Controversial topics must be addressed, and those topics are often the ones that provoke stimulating and thoughtful conversation that must be had in order to progress as a society and move forward.  As long we address these issues with the respect and civility that they deserve, there is no topic that is off-limits, in my opinion.

What I will promise you, is that when it comes to a controversial incident, I will judge it based upon the facts of each situation.  I won’t always support what an Officer has done, but I won’t be afraid to state when something controversial is justified.  I will always stay true to myself, true to the oath I took as a police officer, and true to the values of the organization that I place my faith and trust in.

Connect.  Respect.  Protect.  Not just a catchphrase, but a way of life.