When drafted military personnel returned home during the Vietnam era, protesters were waiting around with signs, some condemning them for their indentured actions.
Americans did slightly better with Gulf War and Operation Enduring Freedom-era veterans, but there still seemed to be a cold, silent contempt for people who chose to join organizations whose role sometimes involves the horrors of war.
It’s important to separate individuals from politics and policies, and we should be making that distinction with law enforcement and other first responders just as we should make it with veterans of overseas combat. Policy isn’t made on the front lines — that’s just where policies are upheld, and even then, the politicking often has nothing to do with what happens on the ground.
I was reminded of these concepts last week when Lt. Rob Burdess of the Newton Police Department allowed me to climb into a Jasper County Sheriff’s Office armored vehicle, along with armed officers, in order to deploy with a special team and photograph the Berg School Complex’s active-shooter drill.
The drill reminded me that although we might not see eye to eye with local leaders about how situations should be handled or how money should be spent, individuals are still doing the best they can to keep us safe. Those weren’t policies methodically rehearsed for an event they hope will never occur; those were human beings, who have children and parents and grandparents and mortgages. It’s tough to see these kinds of differences in an emotional moment.
Anyone who’s ever received any type of fine for a vehicle violation knows there are times when we wish that “policy” would simply live and let live, and forgive our mistakes. Human safety doesn’t involve line-item vetoes when it comes to appreciation. Either we’re grateful for the folks who patrol our streets, fight our fires and bandage our wounds, or we might as well not have these roles that create the stability we know and love.
The same first responder who gives an unpopular directive regarding crowd control at an event might end up being the same one who saves your life later that same day. It’s important to size up the entire relationship, instead of getting caught up in a single moment. Responding to tragic or dangerous situations is probably not the same kind of task in Jasper County as it would be in, say, Ferguson, Mo., or Los Angeles or New York City.
Growing up near Washington, D.C., it seemed the local police and fire crews there had nearly impossible jobs, and I remember wondering where they stored all the patience they brought with them out onto the streets each day. The Fourth of July event on the National Mall involved a Beach Boys concert each year, and I thought that seemed like the worst day to have to be on crowd detail.
The Berg drill brought out emotions in different ways. Newton school board member Travis Padget, who volunteered to be amid the “victim” role players in the shooting, said having someone come into a room and point a gun is a harrowing moment — even when everyone knows it’s a drill, with no live ammunition.
It was a stark realization for me to see the precision, teamwork and willingness to use deadly force that’s required to even work up to a drill like the March 18 event at Berg. Knowing there aren’t loaded weapons involved is of little consolation when the weapons are pointed in your direction — and all you’re holding is a Nikon D5200.
There are plenty of ways to get involved with policy change — social media and online public records are good places to start. But when we’re out on the street, let’s remember that’s not the place where training is usually happening, or where Obamacare was legislated, or where policies are drafted and approved.
Hate the game, not the players.
Contact Jason W. Brooks at
641-792-3121 ext. 6532 or
jbrooks@newtondailynews.com