There have been incidents in our country which have shown some police to be racist and brutally unfair. I learned that this isn’t the nature of the profession while volunteering for over 32 years in New York state’s maximum security prisons, 17 in Sing Sing Correctional Facility and the rest in upstate New York.
Many of the “police” (what guards are often called by inmates) in Sing Sing came from the same communities as the inmates; they participated in inmate-initiated programs for youth outreach and keeping the peace in prison.
In contrast, most of the upstate New York guards did not come from inmates’ communities, but were motivated by the benefits and retirement programs not prevalent in their rural communities; many of them resented programs for and by inmates. The defining word was and is “community.”
When I moved to western Massachusetts with a husband with Parkinson’s disease, I had many chances to experience the essential role that police and fire responders play in communities here. My 911 calls for his seizures and his falls brought first the police, and then the responders, who evaluated him and decided whether he needed to go to the emergency room or could stay at home. I was always told, “That’s what we are here for.” Their professionalism and their expertise could be a valuable resource for programs to train the next generation. It can be done.
The Connecticut town where I taught high school had three opportunities for young people aged 17 and older to be a part of the essential services of their community. They could join the Volunteer Firemen, where they were trained, but since they could not fight fires until the age of 21, were put “on call” to observe experienced firefighters. They could join the Police Department, where they were trained in police procedures. And they could join Post 53, where they were trained as emergency medical responders.
There was an emergency ambulance parked outside the high school each day, and two Post 53 students on duty. My first experience with them was when in the middle of my class one of my students grabbed his books and raced out of the room. My mouth must have hung open, because another student said, “It’s OK, he’s a ‘Postie.’” Another time, a student flew in early to tell me she had delivered a baby. And another time, the school went silent in mourning after our “Posties” had been at the scene of a drunk driving accident, where they were not able to save one of the two classmates who were in the car.
After that accident, the “Posties” started an unofficial telephone service where any person who had had too much to drink could call one of their numbers and have a ride home with no questions and no lectures.
This last scene will be etched in my memory forever. Joey, a 26-year-old fireman, was killed while changing a tire on his truck. The day of the funeral, we watched the hearse come slowly down the main street, escorted by a cadre of police and firefighters and “Posties.” There were so many young faces in that procession, lining the steps of the church, and in the watching crowd — young people who had been trained by Joey both in fighting fires and in emergency medical procedures.
Joey’s legacy was those young people, who would bring, to use Martin Luther King Jr.’s phrase, “the content of their character” to whatever community they chose for their future homes.
If there is anything I have learned from teaching, it is that young people want more than anything to find meaning in their lives. Even large cities are made up of communities, and if in each one, we recognize the tremendous potential of the young people and offer them opportunities to be trained to do real and essential services, we will find that our communities become stronger.
We have the experienced adults who can train them. We just need to invest in programs and resources that can utilize our police, our firefighters and our medical responders to train these future leaders in our communities. If we do, it is they who will build the strength and health of our communities.
It has been done; it can be done. I have personally witnessed the skills and commitment of the adults who serve our communities in this area of Massachusetts. Let us begin with them.
Cynthia Loring MacBain lives in Southampton.