I was going to try to write something today so I could articulate how I was feeling about the incident that happened overnight in Dallas. This is where I live, where my children and mother live and it seems that the hate has reached my doorstep. I found this online written by someone I don't know. I wrote her fro permission to re-post and she asked that I remover her name and location but I cannot say anything better than what this person has written
My heart cries this morning....
My former lover/whatever you wanna call him is a cop. An undercover narcotics investigator. He is a tough mother fu#cker. I once wrote a piece about what it was like to watch him strap on the bullet proof vest to go to work. My heart stopped every time. It was 22lbs between the heart I was devoted to and a bullet. He would assure me he was fine. He would see me in 12 hrs. He went off everyday/night. I would sleep in his shirts. I would silently cry from fear. I would roll over and touch his pillow, wondering if I would see him again. every time.
The men and women who wear that shield. They aren't all bad. Most are people who had a calling to serve their community. To make it safe. They don't ask what your race, religion or political affiliation is before they answer a call. They are spat on, called names and hated most of the time.
He would come back home. I would ask 'How was your day.' His response was always the same. 'The bad guys didn't win today. I came home to you' See. That's the thing, that's how he saw it. Every time he got to take off that vest was another day he made it through.
The bad guys didn't win. The bad guys didn't care there was someone home waiting, that he had children of his own, that he like to fish and go surfing. That he cried for the things that he saw, his heart breaking for every young life lost to a sea of violence and drugs.
He would ask himself 'what can I do to help? How can I make a change?' Because you don't hear about those cops. The ones that actually care. Because that's a fluff piece for the media. It's not scandalous enough that a man would have his child and his girlfriends children making 200 bag lunches he can bring to the poor neighborhood he works in to hand out to anyone who needed it. Who wants to hear about that? Or that there are partners and children waiting at home for those cops, that love them and need them. Lovers that roll over to touch an empty pillow.
I was not strong enough to remain one of those partners. Among other things, it was his job that ended us.
When given an ultimatum to choose, he chose his job. Keeping the public safe, over me. Because that is who he is. Yes. There are bad cops. It's like any other career. But for every bad cop, there are so many more that are great. That are devoted to your community. That will answer, no question asked, when you call.
My heart is breaking today. For all the partners who's cop didn't make it home in Dallas. And everywhere else.
It's time for us to stop hating and create some real solutions to our divided world, unequal living and our complete lack of tolerance and respect for those who appear to be different than you and I, they aren't.