Death of the Ayn Rand Scholar by Gray Cavender (classic literature list txt) 📕

to take several workshops at ASU to learn GIS. In that way, the job really was a little like changing majors. But, I’ve enjoyed it. And it helps that we have a good team. Linda’s great…Lt. Timms, I mean.”

Wes nodded and then was quiet for a time as they walked. Finally, he said, “OK, so now it’s your turn…I imagine you have some questions?” He smiled.

From the first grade on, Jillian had always been a good student. But, in high school as a teenager, she’d had the usual self-concept issues and, as often as not, wanted to hide, not engage. She had grown out her insecurities (most of them, anyway) by the time she was a sophomore in college, and by the time she was a senior, without rattling like an empty can, would raise her hand in most classes to ask questions or to answer them. Still, once she became a graduate student, Carolyn and other faculty as well encouraged her to speak-up more in class even if it meant disagreeing with other students, some of whom WERE empty cans, especially some of the doctoral students who seemed to look down on MS students. Occasionally, she even disagreed with the professor, which was tough at first, but she worked on it, reminding herself that she was in graduate school. She told herself, “think first, then talk.”

So, when Detective Sergeant Webb asked about her questions…she had some. Although Jillian was used to engaging, she was still tactful.

“Yes, I do. Please don’t be insulted…Wes, but…OK, I read the paper, I listen to NPR, and it seems as if every month there’s another story about a police officer shooting and killing an unarmed black man. You’re a detective…what does policing mean to you? What do you think about these incidents…these killings?”

Wes was quite for long enough that Jillian wondered if he had been insulted. Then, he looked directly at her and said, “Well, they trouble me, too. And, in some ways, maybe even more than you…or at least differently from you. Look, when you’re a part of some group and members of that group do something bad, it’s as if it’s ‘on’ everyone in the group. Obviously, I don’t know about each and every one of these cases, but some of them seem to be totally unacceptable. Even if these are just bad apples, they make all police look bad. It’s actually worse for uniforms…they’re more visible. I think many people now look at the police differently, and in a ‘I can’t trust these guys’ kind of way.”

Jillian, ever the grad student, nodded and said, “That’s interesting. You know, there actually are studies that discuss what you just said…about how these killings cause people not to trust the police.”

“Really?”

“Yes…so, there was an article that we read that was published in…sorry, I can’t remember what journal…anyway, it shows that when incidents of police brutality are covered in the media, the residents in the neighborhood where the incidents occurred are less likely to call the police if they know about a crime, even if they are a crime victim. And, another article that said that a lot of times citizen input helps police solves crime, but if citizens don’t trust the police, they won’t help them…and crimes are more likely to go unsolved. So, when you put the two studies together…well, it supports your point.”

Wes smiled at her and said, “If you can find the citations to those studies, I would like to read them.”

“No worries, I’ll have the cites in class notes.” Jillian was quite for several steps, and then said, “OK, but what do you personally think about this…I mean, as a police officer?”

Wes looked out across the lake where two long, thin boats were skulling, then turned back to her. “Three things.” He ticked them off on the fingers of his right hand. “One, I want law and order. I think we have a job to do, and if we do it right, everyone will be safer…whether that’s to arrest criminals and keep them from victimizing more people, or, as in your case, with intelligence-led policing, to maybe even prevent crimes. Two, I want the law to be enforced effectively and equally. And three, I want police officers to get home safely when their shift ends. And, that’s it: Wes Webb on policing.”

Jillian pressed him, “OK, but what about all these killings of unarmed black men?”

“It’s wrong…it violates my second point…enforce the law effectively AND equally. If any group is singled-out for unfair treatment by the police, especially if involves using deadly force, that is not OK. It’s racist. That’s what got our former sheriff, Arpaio, in such trouble with the federal courts…his raids looked like racial profiling. A federal judge ordered him to stop, and he didn’t. That was ridiculous. We want citizens to trust us, all citizens. It’s like you said, who’s going to call the police if they fear the police?” He shook his head in disgust. “And, if some officers do things that discredit the badge, it affects all police…it affects me. Maybe when people know I’m a detective, they’ll wonder about me. Honestly, these cases make me re-think my own actions.”

Jillian nodded…impressed by his answer.

“But that’s a good question. Maybe it shows that a person like you should consider walking over to the other side of HQ. Who knows, maybe you’d be an antidote to the Larry Gruber’s of the world, OR to those who’d kill an unarmed African-American man. Other questions?”

“Yes, OK, having never, EVER, having given any thought to anything like this…” Jillian stopped as if to let her mind catch up…”how would I go about this? Would I have to be a uniformed patrol officer?”

“Would you want to be?”

“Not really,” she laughed. “I just don’t know the protocol.”

“Well, you apply, there are written tests, another background check, then you go to the police training academy. Then, depending…you would start out as a beginning grade detective.”

“You can do that…skip being on patrol and jump