All or Nothing

Pretty much on a daily basis, I see all the posts and shares, and all the comments.

"Police are all racist bullies."
"F*ck the police."
"Defund the police."
"Fire those officers."
"We hate the police."

I'm biased. My husband is "the police." You can stop reading now if you want to stay in the echo chamber.

I've been told that it doesn't matter that my husband is a good, kind officer who tries to do good work because the police as a whole are broken and brutal.

Excuse me? It doesn't matter?

It doesn't matter that he carries stuffed animals in his car to give to scared kids. It doesn't matter that he always tries to reason with people before resorting to force. It doesn't matter that he counsels people who are suicidal, who have lost loved ones, who are in a great deal of pain. It doesn't matter that he tries, always, to err on the side of mercy. It doesn't matter that he is trying to write a new patrol handbook so that new officers won't have to feel like they don't know what to do. It doesn't matter that he constantly reads articles on improving his work and watches videos of other arrests to see how he can avoid the mistakes that other officers might have made. It doesn't matter that he spent a couple years before becoming an officer counseling drug addicts in rehab to rebuild their lives. It doesn't matter that he became an officer specifically to help these people. It doesn't matter that he spends even more time serving by spending weekends at the National Guard. It doesn't matter that he is always trying to improve himself, that he spends hours and dollars making sure he has all the knowledge and tools to do the best job possible.

Apparently, those things don't matter.

Because some officers push old men down.
Because some departments fail to train officers well enough.
Because some officers take things too far.
Because some officers have taken innocent lives.
Because some officers are wrong.

I suppose it only matters that he chose to be a police officer, and therefore joined the enemy. When I first approached him about becoming an officer, he initially said, "No, I don't want to do that."

"Why?" I asked. "Because I think you'd be good at it."

"Because," he said, "I don't want to be hated. I don't want to be feared. I don't want people to run when they see me."

So we looked into maybe doing the fire department instead. But then, something changed. This work would challenge me more, he thought. I could do more good here. I can communicate well, I keep calm under pressure. I could handle it.

And he has. He really has.

He comes home with gouges in his hands from holding someone in place. The gouges are there because his bare hands were against the asphalt, and he didn't want to use more force, so instead, he just held his ground and let his hands get torn up as the man struggled and fought. He comes home with his face burning with pepper spray because, in order to use it, it has to be used on you first. He comes home with his boots and clothes soaked through because he was standing beside an accident scene in the pouring rain for hours, staring at blood and gore all over the ground. He comes home from protests tired, with scratches on his arms from rocks that were thrown at him. He tries to avoid reading the news because no matter what he did that night that was good and right, those actions will not be seen. He gets a few hours of sleep, and then he leaves again to protect the people's right to free speech, while still knowing that he'll be seen as the enemy to every single person there.

I don't ask you to give up the cause of asking for reform. I don't ask you to ignore the thousands of black people who are hurt and victimized. I don't even ask you to stand down from your peaceful protests.

I just ask you, please, to say that he matters. Can you change the way you talk about him? Can you change the way you talk to your friends, your neighbors, your Facebook friends?

Can you see that officers like Clark are your allies, that they are the people you want protecting and serving? What would have happened if Clark wasn't strong enough to take a job where he knew he would be hated? What if a more blustering, ignorant person was in his place? What if he decided to use his extraordinary capacity for goodness and communication for something more respected and popular?

A good man would be home, safe in his bed, instead of getting rocks and bricks thrown at his head. As his wife, I'd count that as a win. But as a society, we would lose out on the service of a great man. He is the change you want to see.

Please tell me that it matters. Because if it doesn't -- all the anxiety, the training, the trying, the preparing, and the caring would be a waste.