Times Chronicle & Public Spirit
Starting the dialogue on what comes next
After the protests, the confrontations, the tear gas and fires; after the horror of watching George Floyd gasp for breath with a police officer’s knee on his neck; after the cries and calls to recognize Black victims hurt or killed at the hands of police
The answers are being written in the towns and rural townships of our region with conversation about policies, procedures and relationships.
Police departments are examining their policies regarding restraints during arrest, putting in writing that chokeholds are forbidden. Towns are looking at purchasing body cameras; police chiefs and borough managers are analyzing hiring practices, and police leaders are reaching out individually to Black community leaders for dialogue and a better understanding of the underserved and of citizens of color.
One of the most organized attempts at better understanding has been put together by the YWCA Tri-County Area. Based in Pottstown, the regional YWCA conducts programs in parts of Berks, Chester and Montgomery counties to promote diversity and end racism in schools and communities throughout the region.
In the wake of the Floyd killing in Minneapolis and the protests for racial justice that brought thousands of people to the streets in nearly every town of the tri-county area, the YWCA led by Executive Director Stacey Woodland put together a six-part online summer advocacy series titled “Racism, Trauma, & What’s Next?”
First in the series was a discussion with police, how they view their role and what George Floyd’s murder has changed. YWCA directors from Pottstown, Bucks County, Harrisburg and Pittsburgh gathered electronically to put questions to four law enforcement officers: Pottstown Police Chief Michael Markovich, and State Troopers William Butler, Ismail ElGuemra and Kelly Smith.
El-Guemra is a liaison trooper who worked part-time in the Heritage Affairs Section within the state police’s Equality and Inclusion Office. The section is charged with “preventing, monitoring, responding to, and investigating occurrences of hate crimes in Pennsylvania.”
In the wake of the Floyd killing, two more officers were added to the section — going from two part-time to four full-time officers who work on these issues.
Police departments are recognizing the need to aggressively recruit minorities, a challenge particularly now when fewer people want to become police, both Markovich and El-Guemra said.
In Lansdale, for example, police Chief Mike Trail has recommended changing the town’s civil service requirements to potentially recruit more people and “make our department look more like the community we serve.”
Trail has said that he meets with NAACP leaders to keep dialogue open about race relations and policing.
Police are also examining hiring practices to improve vetting for officers with racial or sexist bias. El-Guemra said before hiring a trooper, the state police do extensive psychological screening for bias of any kind, as well as checking any tattoos an applicant has to “see if they are associated with any known hate groups.”
The use of force, particularly chokeholds, has come up in discussion in departments throughout the region. While most area police chiefs say their officers would not resort to those types of restraint, they are nonetheless writing bans on chokeholds into policy to ensure transparency and discipline officers if necessary.
Body cameras, which can be expensive, are being explored in many towns, again to ensure transparency and keep officers honest.
What’s needed next? The answers to that question posed in the YWCA forum by Angela Reynolds, CEO of the Greater Pittsburgh YWCA reflect the conversations in towns of our region. What we need is “more listening, more conversation, more inclusion,” panelists said.
Ask the difficult questions. Rewrite policies to reflect change.
Listen. Understand. Include and engage. That’s the message not only for police and local leaders on this weekend that the nation celebrates freedom, but for all who seek equality in life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
Coming out of a recent meeting where Vice President Mike Pence had given a coronavirus update, Florida Republican Sen. Marco Rubio said: “Everyone should just wear a damn mask … like I am right now.”
I wish I had the courage to have told four young people and a toddler the same thing the other day as they stood together a few inches apart, none wearing a mask. But their behavior led me to wonder: Why aren’t some people wearing masks?
I realize there are people who have difficulty wearing masks due to health reasons. I am one of them, an asthma sufferer. When I wear a mask, it feels like it’s more difficult to breathe, but I wear one anyway because I believe in what most scientists say: a mask blocks me from infecting someone else. I also realize that to protect myself I need to stay away from those not wearing masks.
I believe scientists are right when they tell us that wearing a mask, washing our hands and keeping a safe distance from others are the best means we have now to stop the spread of the virus.
I suppose there are some who think the virus is disappearing and there won’t be a second wave, but everything I read and hear from health experts tell me otherwise. It’s going to get much worse come fall, and coupled with seasonal flu outbreaks may take more lives than the 125,000 plus who have died so far.
The more I thought about the rationale some give for not wearing masks, the more I realized something other than facts were involved, something more powerful than common sense.
That awareness brought me back to the work of theologian Paul Tillich, whose work on symbols provided a clue as to why some don’t wear masks.
Tillich, one of the great theologians of the 20th century, came to this country to escape Nazi Germany. He witnessed the power of symbols. He ended up teaching at Harvard and writing many books. “The Courage to Be” remains one of my favorites.
A symbol, unlike a sign, points to some deep meanings that ordinary language cannot express. It often evokes feelings, sometimes irrational, that words cannot capture. It binds people, for good or ill. Consider the power of flags, uniforms, gestures or even statues as the tools of symbolic actions.
I once had a student say “well, it’s only a symbol,” during our discussion. I asked him what might happen if he took an American flag and burned it in the center of town. He thought for a minute and then replied that he could see how symbols are important and can be manipulated to sway others to a cause, whether for good or evil. A symbol lives until people no longer believe it represents their deepest fears or hopes.
I wear a mask because it symbolizes my belief that it’s important to save others from the virus and because I believe that for now if enough of us wear face masks it can help reduce the sufferings and deaths of others.
I suspect others who do not wear masks are not convinced that they can help slow the spread of the virus.
They see not wearing a mask as a mark of their liberty to make their own choices apart from what any authority is telling them. Of course, governmental authorities also dictate many other dimensions of our lives already. You need a license to drive a car or get married, as examples.
There are two other qualities of life that often conflict: The freedom to make choices on our own and the responsibility to act in ways that won’t hurt others.
“Do no harm” is an ancient moral principle that might help guide us today. Do no harm to yourself or others. It’s called the golden rule for a reason. Consider mask-wearing in the light of this rule to do unto others as you wish them to do unto you.
When I wear a mask, it feels like it’s more difficult to breathe, but I wear one anyway because I believe in what most scientists say: a mask blocks me from infecting someone else. I also realize that to protect myself I need to stay away from those not wearing masks.