Thedewsperspective

I was standing on the corner of Baltimore and President Street.  At the back of the Baltimore Police Department Headquarters.  As cars passed me by, I began to think about something. What would a person who knows me think if they saw me standing here?  Why is Mr. Dews standing outside of the police headquarters? 

I ain’t intentionally broke the law and years.  And even when I did break the law, it was on some petty sh!t.  So, I ain’t in the game, nor do I know anything about the game.  I am a citizen.  An L 7, a straight square.  Everyone who knows me knows this about me.  So, it may potentially magnify the question, “why is Mr. Dews standing outside of the police headquarters?”  Then you know what’s the next statement to follow, “who he down here telling on”?

I was there by invitation.  As a writer and a thinker. I was there to be exposed to a perspective of policing that most citizens aren’t privileged to.  I was shown the inwards of the homicide department.  I saw the bulletin board of the names of the deceased.  I saw thousands of folders filed away of homicide victims.  Both open and closed cases.  I read victims’ names, learned the ways their life was taken and the punishment levied against the culprit handwritten on index cards dated back more than 50 years ago. 

I was in a completely different world.  Unlike any space I had ever been in.  Now of course, in urban cities like Baltimore, you hear about these heinous crimes all the time. You also hear about the victims of these crimes.   But occupying the same office as skilled detectives gave me a different perspective. Seasoned police officers with the responsibility of solving these crimes report there daily.   A different perspective to the work that they do.  Plus, all that it entails emotionally. 

While standing in the office, I heard someone sneeze.  Immediately I said, “GOD bless you.”  I didn’t hear “thank you” in response.  Now it could’ve been many reasons why.  Most simple and understandable.  But the way my mind works, I asked, “does this work make you question GOD and your faith?  Does it make a person non-religious?”  Granted, that question may have been extreme just from a “GOD bless you” exchange. However, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to think.

How do you detach emotionally from the work you do?  How are you able to turn it on and off?  How are you able to look at some of the most gruesome crime scenes and not question the spiritual realm of life?  What does this work do to you?  Are you okay?

These are all questions that I asked during my three-hour tour of the headquarters.  I walked into a holding cell.  Envisioning the experience of someone whose life led them to this point.  I noticed a pile of hardened feces on the floor, covered by what appeared to be a pair of woman underwear.  I sat in an investigation room where suspects are read their Miranda rights before questioning commence.  The first thing I noticed was my chair was bolted to the floor.  Immediately I recognized the psychological warfare that’s initiated upon sitting down.  You ever been seated in a chair that’s not intended for you to get comfortable in?  A hot seat indeed.

From my experience of being at the police headquarters my mind was racing.  Maybe this is a “fieldtrip” experience that our young people need to take to deter them from the streets.  So, they can thoroughly understand the seriousness of life behind bars or death on the street.  Maybe humanizing the deceased by name and life instead of a number will make their story more meaningful to the public.  Maybe detectives are doing the best they can to solve cases.  But unfortunately, they can’t solve the cases without the support of the public.

I started to think of the thousands of families that’s been ruined and left to suffer.  The experience made the transgressions taking place on the streets of Baltimore even more personal to me.  It’s imperative that we change the narrative and do better.  I commend all of the involved parties that are partnered together to make our streets safe.  That includes the Mayor’s Office, the States Attorney Office, the Baltimore City Police Department, the public and all other entities fighting together to make Baltimore City better.       

I’m grateful for the opportunity I was given to walk the hallways of the Bishop L. Robinson, Sr. Police Administration Building.  And for the conversations that I had with the individuals who are doing fantastic work serving our community.  I’m forever changed.  I now have a different level of respect and admiration for the gravity of homicide policing.  I also left with more empathy because of the connectiveness I began to intentionally make with the victims and their stories.

Overall, it was a very powerful exposing encounter.  Eye opening.  I was only there for three hours.  Not realizing how quickly the time had passed.  I could’ve been there all day picking the brains of Baltimore’s finest.  I walked into the building as an observer.  I left as a witness.