An Open Letter to the Eugene Police Department, and to all Individual Police Officers in the United States:
Part I: Not All Cops?
I am a poster child for working within the system. For eight years I served on the Eugene Police Commission. I’ve worked with four different chiefs and a pantheon of command staff. I went through the Citizen’s Police Academy and sat through hours of presentations in committees on use of force, crowd control, and External Review. I participated in training scenarios including shoot-no-shoot simulations. I’ve done ride-alongs with you, and even received “Partnership Awards” and “Certificates of Appreciation” from you.
I am a poster child for working within the system. For eight years I served on the Eugene Police Commission. I’ve worked with four different chiefs and a pantheon of command staff. I went through the Citizen’s Police Academy and sat through hours of presentations in committees on use of force, crowd control, and External Review. I participated in training scenarios including shoot-no-shoot simulations. I’ve done ride-alongs with you, and even received “Partnership Awards” and “Certificates of Appreciation” from you.
For nine years I worked with you on the street as part of a crisis intervention team called in by you to assist with people in distress, people needing help, people with mental health and chemical dependency issues. We worked well together to serve vulnerable people. On longer calls, we often got a chance to chat and know each other—me, the old hippie chick, you the cop. Later, I trained you in crisis de-escalation and mental health basics. It’s been cordial, for the most part, and mutually educational.
From my experiences as a mental health provider, I learned that most of you—most, not all—are caring, respectful human beings who have good interpersonal skills, and really want to help people be safe. But again no, not all cops.
Throughout all of my 35 years in Eugene, I have observed you in my role of activist and peacekeeper at community exercises of First Amendment rights. I’ve seen you react to protests and demonstrations both in absolutely disgraceful ways, and in elegant, supportive ways. I’ve seen you respond reluctantly and slowly to community pressure for reform; but to your credit you keep coming to the table with the community and engaging in conversation.
Over a stretch of 35 years I’ve seen the Eugene Police Department respond slowly and with great reluctance to community input and public pressure for openness and transparency. I’ve seen it resist changing its crowd control tactics, responding only to law suits; I’ve seen it respond to calls for review of the complaint system only after dozens of victims were sexually assaulted with impunity by predators in police uniform. I’ve seen it respond to the need for improved communication and de-escalation skills, but only after a young man with mental illness was shot and killed.
I must also say that I have gotten to know many officers in EPD, both line staff and command staff, who I like and respect. I’ve stood with you on cold, rainy nights with people who needed help, and we worked as equal partners in that endeavor. I’ve seen your compassion. I’ve sat in endless meetings with you and we worked as equal partners in that endeavor. I’ve seen your dedication. I’ve gathered with you on the night of 9/11, and again after the loss of one of your own, where we hugged and cried together—as equals. I’ve seen your humanity.
Most of you—not all—but most—have touched my heart and won my confidence on more than one occasion.
But today, given the totality of the circumstances, I am absolutely furious with cops. Yes, all cops. Not most. All.
I hear your defensive cries of “Not all cops.” Not all cops are bad. Not all cops are racist. Not all cops are brutal. Not all cops lie. No doubt that’s true.
But do you not see the problem here? Take the question of cops who lie. Sure, most cops—most, not all—are honest.
Here's the rub: as long as one single cop among you is dishonest, why should anyone trust any of you?
And you who are honest have no idea—indeed, most of the white, privileged world has no idea—how often some cops lie. They lie to the people they are harassing—kids, homeless, people of color, hippies and punks—they lie on the tickets they write, they lie in their reports, they lie to their supervisors, they lie to the grand jury, and they lie on the witness stand.
Not all cops lie? Perhaps; but the experience on the receiving end is so universal, it doesn’t matter if it is 10% of you, or 98% of you. The liars among you have poisoned the well, sullied your collective honor, and sown terror among the people you are supposed to serve and protect.
When there are liars among you, how are we to know which cops are safe and honest, and which are not? All of you have the power to unjustly take our liberty and life with impunity; why would we not be terrified of all of you?
When there are liars among you, how are we to know which cops are safe and honest, and which are not? All of you have the power to unjustly take our liberty and life with impunity; why would we not be terrified of all of you?
I do not know a single person of color, or activist, or hippie, or homeless person who will say cops don’t lie. Every single one of us has seen it. Every single one of us who has been involved in any prosecution of any charge large or small has seen it. We see it when you write the tickets. We see it when we testify on behalf of another person, or in our own defense, and hear you lie on the stand.
So don’t tell me “Not all cops.” It doesn’t matter. You have absolutely no credibility in our eyes. We don’t trust you, and for good reason.
As long as your culture tolerates lying, there will be no trust. Until you root it out, and make lying a cause for instant dismissal, there will be no trust. Don’t tolerate it among your peers, don’t tolerate it from your superiors, and don’t tolerate it from the people under you. Cameras won't fix this problem, and we all know it.