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EXCERPT FROM ONE TIME I then raised my gun up and hit the raging suspect in the face as I could. A six inch gash instantly opened across his face. Blood squirted in the air like juice from a sliced orange. Still growling, the suspect refused to release his grip from around the officer’s throat. This time, I struck him over and over again until he gradually fell into a hopeless state of insensibility. As he finally released the grip on my partner’s throat, coagulated blood seeped between the cracks in his head. I was amazed at how bright the blood was. Through the dimness of the alley it almost seemed to glow a bright Burgundy color. Slowly, he collapsed to the ground and laid still as if dead. “Oh shit! You’ve killed him,” my partner said. Q. WHAT IS THIS ABOUT? A. When I was a teenager, I would see police officers slamming Black people on the hood of their patrol cars and making them lay face down on the ground. I thought this was totally unnecessary. I figured it was a racial thing. As a police officer, I was going to do things differently. Q. DID YOU? A. I did my best but there were times when I had no choice but to use force. When I did, I did it well. It really bothered me at first but I soon learned to enjoy it and accept it as part of the job. Q. ARE YOU ANY DIFFERENT THEN THOSE OFFICERS YOU SAW WHEN YOU WERE A TEENAGER? A. I’d like to think I am but I’ve found that it’s hard to determine a police officer’s motives by his or her actions. Sometimes using force is justified, sometimes it isn’t. Some officers use it excessively because of hatred and others out of frustration. Either way, the end result is the same...an LAPD butt whipping! EXCERPT FROM ONE TIME After a homicide involving a gang member who the author took a personal interest in. After only four short years of patrolling in South Central Los Angeles, instead of teaching other and conveying a positive message to youths, I was taught a lesson in reality. For a minute, I felt badly but like almost every other police officer on the department, I finally concluded, “Oh well, shit happens!” There was no room in my already disturbed mind to worry about the gang member’s death, especially since I knew I would probably have to deal with a retaliation death the next day. the odds were that I would most likely know the next victim as well. I deducted that the best thing I as a patrol officer could do, was try not to get too attached to anyone I came in contact with on duty, especially a gang member. Being friends with a gang member was like having a gold fish as a friend. An officer couldn’t get too attached because as soon as the weather got hot, gang members started dying. Q. WHAT IS THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THIS EXCERPT? A. Like most young police officers, I wanted to make a difference. I thought I had a lot of good advice to offer teenagers and young adults so I took a personal interest in teenage curfew violators because I knew the streets were dangerous at night. Q. DO YOU STILL TAKE PERSONAL INTEREST IN YOUNG PEOPLE? A. I try very hard not to because it’s not in my best interest. I’ve seen too many young people die or go to jail. Sometimes I think it’s better for me if I see people as inanimate objects instead of people. I can’t get hurt emotionally or disappointed that way. EXCERPT FROM ONE TIME After a near encounter with an armed gang member. I thanked god I failed in all my attempts to hit the gangbanger. If I had hit him, I probably would have seriously injured him. I realized my anger and violent behavior toward the suspect was not a result of the gunman’s actions. My behavior was a result of all the compounded frustrations I had experienced since coming on the job. South Central LA was smothering me. Working and living in the same area was beginning to take its toll on me. Even though the grace of God had saved me from committing one horrible act, my thoughts and intentions were still bad. The old adage, “What goes around, comes around” would soon hold true for me. All sorts of bad things started happening to me for no apparent reason. My only explanation was that somebody was trying to tell me something. I wasn’t right inside.

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