I have read the coverage and the online commentary surrounding the arrest of Holyoke City Councilor Israel Rivera with a mixture of sadness and recognition.
Let me be clear at the outset: I do not condone driving under the influence. I do not excuse the behavior described in the police report, nor the things Mr. Rivera allegedly said while intoxicated. If he is found guilty, he should face the legal consequences, as anyone should.
And yet, I also recognize something deeply familiar in this story.
I grew up in an Irish American family where alcohol was both ordinary and destructive. I remember my father — a police officer — being pulled over for drinking and driving and told by fellow officers to go home. I remember my grandfather — who was also a cop — receiving the same treatment. As I got older, I learned what to say to the police in my neighborhood if I got into trouble. In fact, my father gave me and my three siblings a card with his name on it that we were told to give to police officers if we got into trouble. He also gave such a card to friends of the family. This was our get out of jail card and I am sure such treatment still exists. There was an understanding — spoken and unspoken — that some people were granted grace, discretion, and protection, and others were not.
I have seen this play out repeatedly. In fact, it happened to me: I was pulled over for driving under the influence and the police officer drove me home. No headlines. No public reckoning.
I understand that Mr. Rivera is a city councilor, but he is also human. The fact that he has dedicated himself to public service does not render him incapable of serious failure. Nor does his failure erase the work he has done for his community — work that exceeds what many of his loudest critics have contributed in their lifetimes.
I am a recovering alcoholic with three years of sobriety. I know what brings people to alcohol and drugs. I know the demons people try — unsuccessfully — to drown. I am willing to bet that many of those rushing to condemn this man carry demons of their own. I am certain that some have done things behind closed doors they would be horrified to see laid out in a police report or splashed across social media. I am certain some of them are our leaders in our communities.
I personally know men who present themselves as upstanding citizens while speaking to their wives and children with intimidation and cruelty — behavior that causes lasting harm and rarely results in handcuffs or public outrage. Many of them are leaders in our community, too.
What troubles me most is not accountability, but the self-righteous delight some seem to take in public humiliation. Stone-throwing is easy when we believe our own failures will never be exposed, or when we were fortunate enough to live lives in which discretion and forgiveness were quietly extended to us. If we are honest, many of us know this to be true.
I hope Mr. Rivera takes responsibility. I hope he confronts whatever led him to that night. And I hope he emerges from this moment with humility and change, and brings that new understanding to the public work he has dedicated his life to.
But I also hope we take a hard look at our appetite for moral spectacle, and at the unequal grace this city has long extended to some, while denying it to others.
Accountability matters. So does mercy. We are poorer as a community when we forget either.
Patrick O’Connor lives in Holyoke.