Our Stories

What Has Your Experience with Police Been Like?

Each month, we pose a question to the OneLISC family, and share the responses reflecting our diverse range of voices and backgrounds. We hope these Reflections from the Field will be a source of inspiration and insight for us all. This month's question is:

What has your experience with police been like? Do you believe localities in the United States need police forces? If yes, why? And if no, how do you envision a police-free society?


-Do you know why I pulled you over...the monochromatic, single-line, rhetorical question of the century. Hand on the gun, finger caressing the trigger.

-My hands, already sweaty, gripping the wheel for dear life...make sure they see all 10 fingers...I don't know officer, I am certain I follow every single rule in the book, so as to not be HERE, but I am sure you will tell me on what "public safety" charge you have pulled me over, before you point your "Qualified Immunity" in my face.

-The side of the car reads "to protect and serve" as it pulls away from me, the officer on his phone, seemingly doing exactly what I was pulled over for, laughing, drunk with power to "self serve"...another red-light ignored with the power of the siren and the flash, no need to even hide it anymore...the answer is no more "I am here to make sure you follow THE law" it is now "I AM the law".

-Question: Do we need a police force?

-Answer: Do you mean an actual police force, or a self-serving monster?

- Anonymous



Two haikus about police:

#1
Not just bad apples.
A system rooted in fear.
We can do better.

#2
This is not safety.
We can protect each other.
End state violence.

- Avital Aboody, Program Officer, LISC San Diego 



There were police officers surrounding my parents’ house when I arrived. The ambulance was enroute to the ER, EMTs pointlessly doing CPR because the DNR hadn’t been signed yet. Inside an officer held my mother’s hand, keeping her talking and away from the garage where my dad had collapsed.

What about this situation required the body armor sewn into their uniforms, the guns and Tasers on their belts?

Why was the house a crime scene until proven otherwise?

Why wasn’t there a department of social workers who could have responded instead, helping us through the tragedy that was just unfolding?

Where else have we miscast police as the only available solution?

- Frieda Pollack, Program Officer - Communications and Operations, LISC Phoenix



Is a Mug Shot Worth a Thousand Words?

The alert in my Inbox read:
“Lincoln Man Waves Loaded Gun at Officers, Passersby.”
My town.
My neighborhood.

The man was drunk,
In mental health crisis.
His gun was a shotgun.
He did not immediately comply when told to lay down his weapon.
In fact, he reached for another.

Yet, despite the ominous way this story starts,
No shots were fired.
No one was hurt.
Officers retreated from the gun pointed at them.
Waited for back-up.
De-escalated the situation.
“Taken into custody without further incident.”

I emailed my police chief,
expressing thanks that this ended peacefully.

But also asking why he thought a:
Drunken,
Raving,
Shotgun-wielding,
59 year-old,
White man

Was approached so differently
than a 12 year-old black boy in Cleveland.
A boy named Tamir Rice.

- Jeremiah T. O'Grady, Senior Program Officer, LISC Rhode Island



I was traumatized by the police a couple of decades ago while at the circus with my eight-month-old daughter. I was stabbed by a man attempting to push me out of line with my daughter while we were waiting to have her face made up like a clown. The police said that I tried to rob this man, who was accompanied by a lady and her eight-year-old daughter, all bigger and stronger than myself with a baby.

The moral of this event is the police tried to intimidate a young black woman so they would not have to arrest this white Italian man who stabbed me. No concern was given to me by the police. Because I was bleeding, the Madison Square Garden doctor had to check me out and he allowed me to call my family for support before he released me. It is hard to fight when you are powerless and your rights have been taken away. The police said it could not be proven that I tried to rob the man, or that the man stabbed me. Twenty years later, I still feel unsafe and do not trust the police.

- Carol Jennings, Accounts Payable Specialist-Consultant, LISC



“Too many Americans reflexively support their police officers, seeing them as noble protectors who can do no wrong.
Too many other Americans reflexively oppose the police, seeing them as enemies - members of an occupying force.”
- Resmaa Menakem, My Grandmother’s Hands.

For years, communities of color have called attention to issues of policing and militarization of local forces. This summer, following the murder of George Floyd, and the uprisings, Minneapolis city council voted unanimously to replace police with a community-led model. In August, that decision stalled as the Charter Commission delayed this action, keeping it off the ballot in November.

The question remains, how do we envision safe and just communities and for who?

Locally, the abolition work continues. Residents, council members, and city staff are unraveling a complicated and deeply entrenched system of power, funding, and control. The implications affect everything from the safety initiatives of educational institutions, to housing, to event planning.

In the community, the restorative justice work continues. Artists contribute murals, memorializing a movement on boards, walls, and city streets. Neighborhoods organize, planning phone trees and 911 alternatives. Teams comb through charters, providing policy recommendations and suggestions.

The full scope of it includes time for healing and time for creativity. Change happens not just when we’re doing the productive bits, but in the edges and the gaps. Community-building, conversations, acts of creation are a part of the process. If we want to be successful, we need to remember to make time for those parts, too.

- Jouapag Lee, Program Officer & Jamie Schumacher, Assistant Program Officer, LISC Twin Cities



I’m a new lawyer in ‘80s NYC.

The subway doors open; my purse is snatched.

Bystanders tackle him; the police arrive.

Train pulls out, empty platform; officer rams the handcuffed guy into metal gates.

Stop, I yell, you are hurting him.

I’m ignored.

Stop, I yell, you’ll ruin your case.

He stops.

Backup arrives. My purse is evidence now.

You forgot to read him his rights.

No need they say, we are not questioning him.

I won’t press charges. Cop already punished him. No trial, no jury.

Officer says there are sex crimes on the unavailable rap sheet.

Shaken, I change my mind.

In the DA’s office, I won’t sign without seeing the rap sheet.

No sex crimes; small drug dealing, minor assault; a drug problem.

The cop lied, I won’t press charges. He needs treatment.

The ADA hands me a grand jury subpoena; tells me it’s not my decision.

- Helene Caloir, Director, LISC NYS Housing



I was at my sister's home for my niece's prom send-off, and my nephew and I decided to go to the store to get snacks for the younger children. Earlier that week, there was a bank robbery where the manager was killed. We were aware that they were looking for the persons that committed the crime in our neighborhood. On our trip home from the store, we are surrounded by police in plain clothes. Of course, I panicked and proceeded to undo my seatbelt and turned to see a gun placed at my head with a stern "don't move and get your hands up." Upon seeing my face (because I was wearing a baseball cap) the detective proceeded to apologize to us, as I was holding my chest and breathing hard. He stated that they received a tip that a Silver Chevy Impala was nearby and looked suspicious. The sad part was the vehicle that they was looking for was a totally different make and model.

- Dorothy Woods, Risk Management, National Equity Fund



As a white female, I know my experience with police reflects a whole lot of privilege. I think I knew it when I was arrested at 17 for underage consumption, but didn't quite have the words for knowing it was white privilege. I knew I was being treated differently as I heard "you're nice girls, we won't put you in the cell." There were other occasions in my teens or early 20s when I probably should have or could have been arrested after being confronted by the police for doing something illegal or close to it, but wasn't, and I think my whiteness is a large part of why I wasn’t arrested. I've certainly thought about these instances with a very different lens in the last year than I had in the past. Again, my privilege is to not have to think about it.

- Anonymous