Some of the Greatest Hits of the New York City Police Department
The trophies filled the shelf and plaques gleamed on the wall. They seemed triumphant, proud, and ostentatious all at once against plain white. They also seemed incredibly out of place – my friends and I had just walked through half an exhibit centered around the history of protest from 1940 onward. We had seen images of dying AIDS patients, barbed wire constructions, and sullen faces. Now, we were looking at something akin to our high school’s varsity trophy case.
We had to take a closer look.
It started off innocuously enough. The trophies had shiny figureheads mounted on a pedestal atop inscriptions, which included names of police officers who had done well. The plaques had the usual flowery language of awards: “for exceptional character and integrity,” “special service,” and “superior achievement.”
Then it started to get uncomfortable. “Service Award: Officers John Talt and Dennis Boyle for the Police Action Killing of Jay Parker.” “For Selfless Service to the Police Action Beating of Everton K. Evelyn.” At the center of the exhibit, “For Performance in Target Shooting Close Ranged.” From the distance I was standing to read this plaque, I realized that the little figurehead policemen were pointing pistols straight at us. For all intents and purposes, I was standing in front of a cemetery – these awards were tombstones documenting the names of victims, except their killers were inscribed in bigger letters right over the top. This display was “celebrating” a history of police brutality, and I would have never known if I hadn’t taken a closer look.
Carl Pope, the artist of the exhibit, decided to call this display Some of the Greatest Hits of the New York City Police Department: A Celebration of Meritorious Achievement in Community Service. There’s a dark humor in the type of irony that pervades that title, which reflects the contrast of the engravings on the trophies as well. Pope started the exhibit after a black man named Leonard Barnett was killed by an officer; Pope discovered that police officers were sometimes awarded for their brutality, as in the case of Eric Garner. Apparently this display was originally part of another Whitney Museum exhibit in 1994 and covers incidentsdating back to the 40s, which just makes me sadder. Police brutality before I was born, and after all this time not much has changed. Yes, killings (mostly black or Hispanic ones) regularly get publicized in social media and news outlets. BlackLivesMatter exists. Still I can’t help but feel that it’s not enough, especially when people keep shooting and people keep dying. I don’t have anything against police officers – I understand that operating under stress can lead to bad decisions, and I doubt anyone sets out to be malicious outright. Yet it doesn’t seem fair that a police officer’s mistake should destroy an innocent person’s life and get off scot-free, either. It also doesn’t seem productive to turn this whole conflict into a blame game, where both sides point fingers instead of listening to other perspectives. (Even when people do listen and converse, who’s to say that any long-lasting changes will result?)
To further complicate the situation: supposedly, cops don’t even legally need to protect you if you’re facing a wanted killer – see this video (TW: gore) and the Castle Rock v. Gonzales case – but that doesn’t mean that any individual cop wouldn’t help you at some point in your life. Earlier this month, some BLM protestors in Sacramento disrupted the wedding of the officer who shot Stephon Clark, which is either an invasion of privacy or a completely justified action.
So where does that leave our law enforcement and justice system? Where does that leave social justice activism? I’m not sure. I’m not sure we’ve illuminated anything but my confusion on an issue that’s been around for decades, to be honest.
-Monica
The Junction Journal 