#Mylifematters

The controversy over whose life matters with hashtag #blacklivesmatter and #bluelivesmatter is stupid.  You know whose life matters? Mine.  My life matters.  

I’m more than the thin blue line I walk, the badge I wear, the uniform and agency I represent.  I’m also a mom, wife, daughter, sister, mentor, and friend.  I do my best to make the right decisions, to help others, and to make this world a safer place.  I matter because of all of those things.  I matter because those things matter to me.  I matter because I choose to.  

Justice is blind.  People are not.  We judge by what we see and hear, and what we see is from a narrowed perspective, what we hear is what we are told.  It takes more than one person to make a nation so violent and unforgiving.  It will take more than one person to make our nation peaceful and able to forgive.

#Mylifematters.  Does yours?

Pffflt!

All of us listen to the same news, get the same information and yet have varying opinions on what happened in Ferguson, MO, the night Officer Wilson confronted Michael Brown.  None of us know what we would've done in this situation.  If you say you do then you're a liar.  We know what we want to do, or hope we would do. Those of us in law enforcement rely on what we're trained to do.  

A split-second or less is the approximate amount of time we have to make life or death decisions based on minimal facts, visual observations, training, and experience.  These decisions are accompanied by adrenaline dumps.  Adrenaline, as defined by MedicineNet, is a stress hormone produced in the adrenal gland that quickens the heart beat, strengthens the force of the heart's contraction, and opens up the bronchioles in the lungs.  It's not uncommon to temporarily diminish your sense of hearing and touch, but also heighten your sense of smell and slowing your perception of time.  The secretion of adrenaline is part of the human 'fight or flight' response to fear, panic, or perceived threat. (Perceived is another good vocabulary word to understand: to become aware of, know, or identify by means of the senses: I perceived an object looming through the mist. 2. to recognize, discern, envision, or understand [Dictionary.com])

How often do you think the average person experiences these physiological changes then go through it again and again with little to no time for recovery in between? Two or three times in a month, a year?  Law enforcement officers experience this daily, if not multiple times a day depending on the call for service.  From neighbors arguing over a dog crapping on the lawn to shots fired with multiple victims, we respond to every call with the same expectation...we go home safe at the end of shift.

I was saddened by the public outcry for an indictment of Officer Wilson, and angered by their  reactions to the grand jury's decision.  They didn't want justice, they were gathered like a lynch mob wanting a public hanging.  

The celebrity reaction didn't surprise me: "Celebrities expressed sadness, frustration and disappointment across social media Monday after a grand jury in Missouri declined to bring charges against police officer Darren Wilson for the Aug. 9 shooting of unarmed black teen Michael Brown." Then the articles drone on with tweets and postings from the Hollywood liberals.

The media continues it's pot-stirring and racial divide with their use of "unarmed black teen". Face it people, Michael Brown was of age to fight for his country and vote, which is what we call an ADULT.  But that just wouldn't be newsworthy, would it?  I don't care if he was blue with red polka dots.  I don't care if he had a cell phone or an UZI in his waistband.  Michael Brown was no child, no "teen" without direction, no victim of a hate crime.  He was an adult who made a decision that cost him his life.

What vexes me with this case isn't the the actions of the suspect or the officer's reaction to the perceived threat, it's not even the protesters and political asshats showing up for their 15 minutes of fame.  It's the combination of: 1) the public's sense of entitlement and lack of common sense, and 2) that we rely on a biased media to tell us the truth.

Had it been a female officer of any race, her skills and abilities would have been questioned based on gender and the story would've died within 24 hours.

Had it been a black male officer, the political jackhats would've said "tisk tisk, more black on black violence" and this case would've never made national news.

Had Michael Brown been an "unarmed white teen" or a female of any race, it may have been aired once on a local station then forgot about because frankly it just doesn't pull in the ratings.  Go ahead, disagree.  Then you can just stand there in your wrongness and be wrong.

We cry for justice then denounce the very system we put in place to decide it.  We cry for help, then condemn the men and women who respond to provide it. "To change the hearts and minds of men you must learn to listen; otherwise your words will fall on deaf ears, for the opinions of fools are always louder. ~L.S. Buckley"

Behind the Badge

Curiosity invaded my thoughts today after I read a fellow blogger's post on what it's like being married to a cop. I have quite a few friends who hold the title “Cop's Wife”and realized only one of my female coworkers has a husband who works outside of law enforcement. There must be more men behind the badge, who either stay home with the kids or work in the civilian sector.


Law enforcement is a life the entire family has to be on board with in order to make it work. For many years I had the privilege of seeing my brother-in-law become a very successful police officer and work hard to get promoted. His wife and kids worry, wife more than kids, but they know the support at home is what helps keep him safe on the job.


It's a delicate battle we fight, to keep our lives balanced as we bring order and maintain the peace in our communities. There are things we're exposed to in this job that can't be explained to most and we don't want to explain to others. Mainly because you don't want to relive those moments; you don't want the images refreshed in your head that took numerous calls and reports since then to bury. Hubs and I met in the military and in respect to my current job he understands why I don't divulge certain details. Its part of what we keep hidden behind the badge.


You see, the badge I wear fits into the palm of my hand. Its physical attributes are nothing more than a piece of metal that pins to a uniform. What it represents is the true value. The responsibility of the person who wears it doesn’t end when the uniform comes off. That is sometimes the toughest part for families, seeing their loved one out of uniform seemingly “off duty” and still in cop mode. You eventually figure out how to leave work at the threshold, but it’s not a matter of turning it off. You can’t. I can’t. I won’t.


My husband is married to a woman who walks out the front door wearing a target on her chest. He sees the uniform lying in the clothes basket with blood on it (or God only knows what) and doesn’t ask what happened unless I bring it up. He goes to bed alone most nights as I stay up typing reports and finishing work for the next day. We juggle our intimate time together like a circus clown on fire. That’s a fairly accurate description considering our life is a frenzy of circus acts with our boys taking center ring. Some days I half expect to see a monkey riding one of our dogs through the house.


Hubs manages to keep his worry and frustration about my job reasonable. The shift work, over time, dangers of the job, and even a twinge of jealousy are all part of the battle. The balance is our communication. I beam with humbled pride at him for wanting to share my success and goals. Even more I think it drives him to reach his own.


Life behind the badge is not easy. If it were then everyone would live it. The sacrifices and lack of others’ understanding often hinder our relationships with friends, wear on our patience with loved ones, and keep us at a distance with our own emotions in order to do the job. In regards to who’s wearing the badge in the relationship…that doesn’t mean they are the ones who make all the sacrifices. It’s a delicate battle indeed.



S. McLaughlin

Dedicated to all public safety and military families.

End of Watch

A silence fell across Brevard County, it spread across the country to reach as far as overseas. Cell phones rang, text messages chimed, and social media spread the news like wildfire as everyone panicked to find out if their loved one was okay. God called an angel home today.

A fellow deputy, veteran of 30 years in law enforcement, ran to the fight. She stood in the line of fire to protect and serve her community. Barb, I give my humble thanks to you for your service. You’re guidance and mentorship will be passed on to many future deputies. Your story will be retold a thousand times over of your heroism and sacrifice. There is no justice for the loss of a loved one. There are no words for the emotions those left behind will have to face. The one thing we all know is that God gave us a guardian angel today we will call by name. Deputy Sheriff Barbara Pill, end of watch March 6, 2012. God Bless.

Today, I had no words to give loved ones as the calls and messages poured in asking if I was okay other than ‘Yeah’. The comments left on my social media pages tugged at my heart as I saw the support from friends all over the world. The most surreal moment today was when my 13 year old son asked for me when I got home. He and I have a “butt heads and never see eye-to-eye” relationship.

I walked in his room where he was already tucked in bed. He looked at me and asked, “Was she a friend?” I replied, “Yeah. She was an awesome friend.” He sat up with open arms and gave me a big hug. I promised him I would be an old woman before I die and that I would be around a long time to stay on his butt about everything. Then he squeezed me a little tighter and said, “I love you, mom.” That moment made me realize the difference I make. My husband and boys are my strength, and my greatest weakness. I thank God for them.

****

For those who get upset with law enforcement when you get pulled over, they show up at your door because your neighbor complained about you, or you see cops sitting at a coffee shop and think of the stereotype, think about this:

On a daily basis we get called to the interstate for a reckless driver that turns into a deadly traffic crash; to an area where there was a 9-1-1 hangup with no other information only to find it was a wanted felon waiting to ambush us; to a domestic violence call where a kid beat up mom or mom beat a kid, where a guy beat his girlfriend to death in front of her kids; we get called to the scene where a child was sexually abused by a relative, then the next call is in a suburb where there’s a noise complaint from a neighbor. On a daily basis we arrive on scene with limited information and are expected to solve the publics’ problems in minutes that took them years to create.

On a daily basis we face the unknown dangers of a traffic stop, a 9-1-1 hangup, a fight in progress, a robbery or burglary, or a person with mental issues who went off their meds and isn’t law enforcement friendly. On a daily basis we go hours if not a full shift without eating or being able to stop and use a bathroom. We endure public ridicule at the cost of protecting their freedom of speech.  On a daily basis we are moving targets for the bad guys who hunt us just as we hunt them.

Now think about this: At the end of shift, by the grace of God and our training, we go home. We sit down with loved ones who ask, “How was your day?” You don't tell them the bad.  My reply, “Another busy day. How was yours?”

I ask only this of my friends and family, of my readers, of my critics: Think of your worst fear, multiply it by infinity, and look over your shoulder as you run away. You’ll see us running to face what you fear. It’s not about what we do, it’s about what we’re willing to do.  Today, Barb reminded us of that. 

http://www.floridatoday.com/article/20120306/NEWS01/120306010/Veteran-Brevard-deputy-killed-Melbourne-fleeing-suspects-detained?odyssey=nav%7Chead

Cops and Caffeine

I have some friends who wear badges and run towards the chaos.  In the midst of the chaos, long hours, weird encounters, and dangerous daily tasks, I asked them, "What's your poison?" 

Here's some of the replies:

Fuzzy 1: Mt. Dew.  Gotta have the Dew.

Fuzzy 2: Water, gym time, and protein *insert man grunt here* 

Fuzzy 3: COFFEE...<---must agree

Fuzzy 4: Sweet tea *I've heard it keeps'em sweet, otherwise they are a bear to work for*

Fuzzy 5: Diet Coke, coffee, Mt. Dew, straight caffeine works too.

Fuzzy 6: Coffee with a Diet Dr. Pepper chaser *wink*

The caffeine crusade continues!

**Just for S&G I asked about the donut diet...I'll save that for another post ;)