Colorblind Leadership Starts Within Ourselves

Published in the Sun-Times on January 24, 2010

Over the past few weeks, there have been an influx of racial-related headlines in the news.

Our former governor declared in an interview that he is "blacker than President Obama." In a frenzy of creative back peddling, Rod Blagojevich's attorney offered that Rod merely meant to convey that he identifies with African-Americans. I'm still unsure what Blago's comment actually meant. It's such an interesting statement that I would really like to get inside Rod's unbelievably hair-styled head to understand the idiocies that live in there.

This mea culpa came several days after it was reported that Senate President Harry Reid referred to President Obama in 2008 as a "light-skinned" African-American "with no Negro dialect unless he wanted to have one."

These remarks seem more likely to have come from stereotypical bigots who are stuck in the 1950s rather than from modern-day elected officials and lawmakers that hold (or have held) positions of power and speak on behalf of entire states. Aside from the obvious fact that these "gaffs" made national headlines followed by vehement apologies from both men isn't what troubles me. These gentlemen aren't sorry about what they said. Rather, they are sorry that someone recorded them saying it.

Much like our politicians and lawmakers, it is just as important that police officers are colorblind. We see the world through lenses made up of our own experiences and values. If those values are askew, our line of sight will be, too, and it will affect the decisions we make. Police are given the power and authority to take away freedoms as a means of protecting society from harm. When exercising that power, they had better do it without bigotry or biases of any form. Best-selling author Dr. Stephen Covey said "service, justice and fundamental fairness are the foundational principles for which every police action must be grounded." This epitomizes the demand for impartiality even when triggered by our own personal experiences.

From time to time, a citizen may feel as though he or she was targeted by the police because of race. These complaints are few, but they are taken very seriously by the Aurora Police Department and investigated thoroughly.

Each officer and civilian employed by APD has been through diversity training as a means of educating and preventing prejudice. But no formal training can ever take the place of the mirror we hold up to ourselves. Each of us (police and citizens alike) should look within and constantly challenge our own belief system. Sometimes we find that our systems are not centered in rational thought. Rather, we may realize that our beliefs originated from those who imposed their own views upon us.

Our children don't seem to have a problem with diversity. Generation "Y" has grown up with social networking and instant messaging that bridges the communication gap and flattens their world so people don't seem so far away. While I grew up writing and mailing letters to a pen pal, my children are e-mailing and video-chatting with kids who live across the divide. They don't seem affected by different skin colors or different cultures. We could learn so much from their progression.

If we don't constantly re-evaluate, we will go on seeing the world through distorted eyes.

Our New Police Headquarters

In the sergeant’s office of the current police department, there is a mysterious powder falling from the ceiling. It has become common to walk into the office with a cup of coffee and instinctively place a piece of paper over the cup as we set it down at a desk so the unexplained substance doesn’t find its way into our java.

The drinking fountain just outside the roll call room has duct tape affixed to it--- not because it needs to be held together--- but it serves as a reminder not to drink from it. It seems the water that flows from the fountain also contains chemicals it shouldn’t.

The dispatch center is synonymous to a dark, dank cavern--- only it has exposed wires throughout. I’m no technological guru but even a layman like myself understands that wires hanging from the ceiling are not ideal.

I share a computer with another lieutenant in an office that was once a closet--- literally. Ordinarily this would not be a big deal but it gets interesting at the end of the shift when I have to literally pick up my desktop computer and move it over to his desk. The wires are usually entangled and I have to maneuver the mouse and the keyboard over while keeping the unit in tact.

Several times a month, both the men’s and women’s locker rooms have sewer back up problems that result in unpleasant aromas filling the hallway. These backups really come as no surprise considering the sewer system supporting the current facility was installed during the same timeframe as the building itself--- 1966. Back then, Aurora’s police force consisted of around 85 officers and 15 civilian employees. Today, we have over 300 officers and 100 civilians.

Since my office is in the basement, I can only speak of the challenges I face every shift. However, I’m sure the 2^nd and 3^rd floor occupants can contribute even more workplace hardships.

There is no argument that we have needed a new police station for many years. I have yet to hear people say that we should maintain our current building--- especially after they have set foot into it. However, I have fielded some politely inquisitive and carefully worded questions about the new headquarters. Frequently, these are to the tune of, “Do you guys really need something so massive?” (Judging from my experience in the basement alone, I’m probably the wrong person to ask because I want to sing a litany of “Yessssses!” whenever I am asked.)

To be honest, I look at these questions as an opportunity to educate whoever is asking. I am a citizen of Aurora. I pay taxes here and I send my children to the public schools here. Because I wear two hats, I understand the citizens who wonder if too much money was spent on our new headquarters especially in light of the current economic climate. (The new building began taking shape years ago and well before the economic downturn.) As taxpayers, it certainly is appropriate to ask the difficult questions to keep our city government accountable.

Speaking as a citizen, I also know that public safety is crucial to a successful city. I want our firefighters and police officers outfitted with state of the art tools to do their jobs.

As an Aurora police officer, I can tell you that our new police facility will change the way we do business. For you, it means if you are ever the unfortunate victim of a crime, we will have resources and equipment that we have never before had. And yes, it is housed in a beautiful, energy-efficient building that as police officers, we will be proud to call our own. It is a building that we will grow into as our force expands to meet the needs of an abundant city for years to come.

This police department is yours as much as it is ours.

Don't Bring a Gun to a Snowball Fight

In Washington D.C., hundreds of people gathered on a major street for a snowball fight. You heard me right. The snowball fight was organized through the popular social-networking site, Twitter, and citizens of D.C. showed up armed with earmuffs and long underwear with the intent of launching dollops of packed snow at each other all in good fun. Fun is a relative word and one person’s idea of entertainment is not the same as another’s. Suffice it to say, the adult attendance for this impromptu event was abundant giving credence to the idea that snowballs make us regress to our 10 year old self.

Because we are in the information technology age, naturally the event was captured on youtube.com and posted to the web almost immediately. In the video, snowballs of white filled the sky and one snowflake mass struck a vehicle in the roadway. A man, obviously angry that a snowball struck his Hummer, exited the vehicle and brandished a gun. The police were summoned and in the video of the event, sirens are heard in the distance obviously responding to the scene.

Unbeknownst to the snowball enthusiasts, the man in the Hummer is a police officer. He is an off-duty detective and the victim of the snowball shenanigans. From the video, it isn’t clear whether the detective points the gun at anyone but it is easily seen in his left hand as he stands outside of his vehicle yelling at the trouble-makers.

As a police officer, you would probably assume that I would be able to clearly see the perspective of that detective in this situation. After all, there are some scenarios for which police action is necessary for officer safety. These reasons may be unclear to the common citizen until explained.

This is not one of those scenarios. In fact, I’ve got nothing. I’ve watched the videos depicting the incident several times and it is unclear to me why the officer felt it necessary to even exit his vehicle and pull his duty weapon in response to a snowball striking his vehicle. If I owned a Hummer and were safely nestled inside the armored mass of metal, I can only imagine that my reaction would be that of amusement as a snowball launcher tried to infiltrate.

The video reveals the crowd’s disbelief as they learn the man with the gun is a police officer after he shifts his jacket to reveal his badge. The uniformed police officers respond to the scene with their weapons drawn believing that there is an armed man threatening the crowd. Well, technically there is an armed man threatening the crowd but the patrol officers have no idea it is one of their own.

It was interesting to watch the scene unfold on youtube.com as a completely objective bystander. Naturally, I do understand the potential for problems that may unfold when hundreds of people gather in one place for an unplanned event. Police presence certainly would have been warranted just to keep the peace and ensure no one got out of hand. Perhaps we would have issued an order to disperse if we felt that it was impeding traffic or putting anyone in harms way. Having said that, I can hardly imagine having to unholster our weapons.

Obviously, I don’t know anything about the police detective who reacted to this extreme. I wouldn’t be surprised if we learned that he is a decorated officer and a great guy who just reacted angrily after getting pelted with wet snow. If that’s the case, my hope is that he can admit to such.

One thing is clear: You shouldn’t bring a gun to a snowball fight.

It matters to the ones we save

Appeared in the Beacon News on Sunday, December 13, 2009

Columnist Kristen Ziman

As you may have heard, due to the financial times we are all currently experiencing, the Drug Abuse Resistance Education (D.A.R.E.) program has been suspended as a cost saving measure by Aurora Police.

Since the announcement went public, many have asked me if D.A.R.E. really works. I have heard from those whose opinions I respect say unequivocally that D.A.R.E. does not work. On the other end of the spectrum, I have heard others declare that the program absolutely works. Unfortunately there is no scientific method for proving that either side is correct. While I have never been a D.A.R.E. instructor, I do have a bit of experience to draw from when it comes to observations I’ve made about the program as a police officer.

My strongest memory that made me question the effectiveness of D.A.R.E. was when I arrested a man in his late teens for possession of cocaine. While placing handcuffs on him, he asked me if I knew a certain Aurora Police officer because that officer had been his D.A.R.E. teacher. I don’t think I need to point out the obvious irony that he was being arrested for possessing drugs. Clearly this was not a success story. I’ve heard more stories from D.A.R.E. instructors of the students they taught who didn’t receive the message being sent. However, for every failure, I believe there are probably more successes.

The problem is that measuring those effective moments is impossible. We may never know about an incident in a locker room or at a party where a peer being offered drugs declines the proposal. It’s similar to being a parent and imposing values and moral lessons in your child. You can never really know when they have heard your message and internalized it. Sometimes it may take years for you to fully realize the influence you’ve had. In the same way, we may never know that a child who says no to drugs did so either consciously or subconsciously because of the teachings instilled in them by their D.A.R.E. officer.

I have also seen the ancillary benefits of D.A.R.E. For some kids, the only positive interaction they have had with a police officer is the time they’ve spent with their D.A.R.E. instructor. One officer told me that after teaching a D.A.R.E. lesson, a student stayed after class and told her that his older brother (a gang member) had a gun under his mattress. The officer conducted a home visit and seized the gun. We can never really know if that child’s trust in his D.A.R.E. officer saved a life by preventing a shooting.

I don’t disagree with the decision-makers that our financial constraints make it impossible to continue funding programs like D.A.R.E. Unfortunately, the time and resources equate to money that is not currently available. My personal hope is that we can re-evaluate the program and reinstitute it when the economy recovers. The way I see it, if we can empower one child to have the courage to say “no”, then the program is a success.

D.A.R.E. reminds me of the starfish parable: A man went down to the beach one day to take a walk. When he arrived, he noticed that the tide was unusually low and that thousands of starfish were scattered over the beach that had been exposed by the strange weather patterns. The man looked out and saw a child out amongst the sea of starfish, gathering them up and returning them to the ocean.

"What are you doing?" asked the man.

"Putting the starfish back in the ocean," the child replied. "If I don't, they will die."

"But there are thousands of starfish beached out here and you're just one person. You won't be able to save them all in time. Your actions won't matter."

The child responded, "It matters to the ones I save".

Indifference Could Result in the Demise of Community

*Appeared in the Sun-Times Beacon News on Sunday, November 16, 2009

Indifference may very well be the plague that eventually leads to our demise. The worse words strung together in the English language to form a sentence are: I - don’t - care. Of-course I’m not suggesting that those words aren’t appropriate as the answer to insignificant and meaningless questions like, “Where do you want to go to dinner?” or “What movie do you want to see?” In those situations, it may be better if one person were genuinely indifferent because some would starve before deciding on a restaurant choice if one person had a passionate preference for Chinese food while the other for Italian food. Either that, or they would eat alone.

The indifference I speak of is the kind that prohibits us from movement because we are absolutely convinced that what we do does not matter. I find so many people that fall into this category not because they genuinely don’t care but because they don’t believe that their action will have any adverse effect on a particular outcome. When we begin to fall into this line of thinking, the natural reaction is to find a place of indifference because it’s easier to not care if things don’t go our way. It’s a layer of protection that we use so we aren’t disappointed with defeat. The defense mechanism is in place so the agony isn’t quite as piercing.

Sometimes I long to be one of the ones who have mastered apathy. What a simple existence it must be to go through life genuinely not caring what happens around them as long as it doesn’t adversely affect them. I know many people who live life with the schematic that asks, “What does this have to do with me?” A great example of this was the recent beating of a young Chicago student at the hands of several thugs armed with 2x4's. Onlookers thought best to videotape the beating rather than assist the student who would later die from the injuries he sustained. Were those spectators plagued with the disease of apathy? I often wonder what goes through a persons mind when they fail to answer the call for action.

I started thinking about the consequences of a police officer who decides they just don’t care anymore. Several weeks ago, an officer on the midnight shift saw several subjects sitting in a car in the middle of the night. When he approached the car, he noted that they were smoking marijuana and he subsequently arrested them and then searched the car. In doing so, he found proceeds from a burglary that the subjects had just committed. It was later learned that the same subjects were responsible for a rash of burglaries on the far east side over a several week span. No one would have been the wiser had that officer chose indifference and drove past the occupied vehicle. It would have been much easier not to stop - not to mention much less paperwork.

You don’t have to be a police officer patrolling the streets to care about what happens in your city or your place of work. I question the possibility of what would happen if we all stopped going through life so apathetic. Imagine what we could get done if we truly cared about our life’s work and the things that happen around us.

Interestingly enough, there are many people who exist just to do the minimum and spend their lives merely getting by while suffering no consequences. It may be a simple existence but it is also meaningless. Dr. Seuss perhaps said it best: “Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not.”

Officers Debate Supporting Comrades who Commit Crimes

*Appeared in the Beacon News on Sunday, November 1, 2009

You probably heard about the Chicago police detective who was involved in an off-duty car accident last April that resulted in the deaths of two young men on the Dan Ryan Expressway. The detective was allegedly drunk behind the wheel and was charged with reckless homicide, DUI, and leaving the scene of an accident.

It goes without saying that the outcome of this accident is absolutely tragic. Not only did two young men perish, but the fact that the officer was purportedly driving while intoxicated, tarnishes the integrity of his badge and defies the oath that is synonymous with wearing that badge. Far be it from me to even attempt to defend his alleged irresponsibility and blatant disregard for the law that took the lives of two human beings.

It is always front page news when a police officer is involved in criminal activity. The story again made headlines last week, but for a very different reason. The Fraternal Order of Police (FOP) Hall served as the venue for a benefit to raise money for the detective to assist with living expenses, legal fees and defense experts. The mothers of the 21 and 23 year old men who perished in the accident were outraged at the notion that other police officers would support someone who exercised such poor judgment. I vehemently agree.

This incident has sparked some interesting debate among my fellow police officers. It is not surprising to me that most officers say they would neither purchase a ticket nor attend a benefit for an officer who made such an egregious error in judgment. The majority couldn’t reconcile themselves to the moral disregard for the law and the subsequent consequences. I even took a momentary introspective and reflective look into myself and decided that if it had been me who had drove drunk and killed two people; I wouldn’t allow a benefit to be held on my behalf. My guilt and self-loathing would prohibit pity from anyone who genuinely tried to assist.

There were a group of my colleagues, albeit a minority, who said they would contribute to the officer and for every reason I gave in opposition, there were those with strong convictions in favor of the fundraiser. The common theme was that the money raised should go to the family of the accused officer. The thought was they were collateral victims and shouldn’t have to suffer a monetary hardship because of the officer’s actions. One officer took it ever further and pointed out that we can never really know the depth and breadth of a person’s suffering. By that, he wondered if the officer had a problem with alcohol that could have been recognized or diagnosed well before the accident.

Those who said they would contribute are not morally corrupt individuals. In fact, I consider those who held the opposing viewpoint to be ethical and levelheaded. Their perspective was rooted in compassion but we just saw the situation differently. I can empathize with the need to assist the officer’s family but my thoughts were never far from that of the families of the deceased men. You can’t empathize for one and not the others.

None of us who engaged in this discussion knew the Chicago officer. If it was a close comrade, we may have changed our stance even with the understanding that the officer made a horrible mistake. When human emotion is an added variable to decision-making, objectivity becomes clouded. In the big picture, our stance on the fundraiser is of little importance as compared to the lives that have been profoundly altered by this accident. Just ask the mothers of those young men.

Fighting crime with compassion, courage

Appeared in the Sun-Times Beacon News on October 18, 2009

When I was new to the Aurora Police Department and riding with my field training officer, we responded to a domestic violence call just as our day shift was beginning. We discovered that the victim's ex-boyfriend had kicked in her apartment door and battered her because she refused to take him back. He then fled the scene. As I was gathering information for the report I would be writing, I spotted a school-aged child bustling around the bare apartment with his backpack firmly in place. I noted the child was dressed in a tattered sweatshirt -- a detail that is burned into my memory because it was a brutally cold winter day.

The veteran officer and I cleared the scene, and as I was eyeing an empty snow-covered lot to park and write my report, my training officer redirected me to a store that was just opening for business. He entered the store and returned minutes later with a bag. He then advised me to drive back to the address from which we just left. I drove the few short blocks to find the victim standing outside with her son awaiting the school bus. With a sense of purpose, my training officer exited our squad and pulled a winter coat from the bag. He placed it on the child, then knelt down and zipped it up as far as it could go. He returned to the squad and said absolutely nothing.

I thought at first that he either knew the family or that the mother had asked him for the coat. I quickly surmised that neither were true when I saw the expression of gratitude and surprise on the face of the mother.

I have witnessed and heard secondhand many heroic acts in the almost 19 years I have worked for the Aurora Police. Whether it be entering a burning building or going into an icy river, there are stories of selfless rescue where officers have risked their own lives to save another. I have seen more courageous acts committed by Aurora police officers than most people have seen in Hollywood movie scripts. Some have taken bullets or experienced near misses in their quest for peace and justice. They have fought and been injured while dedicating themselves to the mission of our police department. I have watched my colleagues work seamlessly and tirelessly to solve the crimes that have plagued those we serve. In all of these scenarios, each officer would say that they were "just doing their job."

Officers train in the academy so that every day we can handle these dangerous situations while on the job. Our departmental training is rigorous and strenuous because in police training we understand the words of the Greek soldier Archilochus: "We do not rise to the level of expectations. We fall to the level of our training."

And yet, the more important lessons are those learned when you least expect them. My training officer taught me that every human being is worthy of dignity and respect. I can recall an officer giving a bag of fast food to a homeless man, and I have seen another comfort a rape victim with gentleness and kindness. I have watched strong men bend down to the eye level of a child to calm their fears, and I have seen others shed a tear when overcome with the sadness and reality of death.

For every story of raw courage, there are more everyday acts of humanity. Brave acts deserve recognition, but it is the small acts of compassion that define us as human beings, and it is those that require the greatest strength of all.

Aurora police Lt. Kristen Ziman can be reached at KristenZiman@gmail.com.