A toxic system of crime and no punishment
NYC woman writes 4,000 letters of appreciation to police officers
IN a sane city, the arrest of Brandon Perez, a 15-year-old boy, for the mid-September knifing of 17-year-old Ethan Borges, who died of his wounds, would be a major scandal.
Perez was in the midst of a 10-month crime spree that began with an arrest last November for grand larceny; he was arrested three more times since then, most recently carrying a loaded gun, according to police. The gun charge came less than two weeks before Borges was stabbed. Though unlicensed possession of a firearm is a felony, Perez was evidently released pending the disposition of his case.
Evidently, it never occurred to any of the judges, prosecutors or social workers overseeing Perez’s seemingly progressive violence that continually releasing him with stern warnings might condition him to expect no consequences to his vicious behavior.
The crime-and-impunity problem in New York City is informed by an ideological bias against the principle of incarceration and the insistence that “alternatives” are preferable in all cases, especially for youth. The 2018 implementation of the Raise the Age law meant that 16- and 17-year-old nonviolent offenders would not be held criminally responsible for their acts and would be funneled through the juvenile-justice system.
“Beginning today,” said
Mayor de Blasio, “no one under 18 will go to Rikers Island. Kids will be treated like kids instead of adults.”
Whether that’s reasonable or not, an effect of the law was to concentrate resources and attention on older adolescents and let younger offenders, like Brandon Perez, fly under the radar.
The city put hundreds of millions of dollars into improving juvenile jails, but to dubious effect: An April 2020 riot at Crossroads Juvenile Center started when inmates broke out of their cells, beat up the guards, and threatened to take over the entire facility. This happened after de Blasio released half of the detainees because of COVID-related fears.
The entire orientation of the administration toward juvenile justice is to minimize contact and to “serve youth through a trauma-informed lens, in the community whenever possible,” explains David Hansell, the head of the Administration for Children’s Services. “Our community-based alternative programs continue to offer prevention and diversion services to safely keep youth out of the justice system and supported in their homes and with their families.”
This sounds great in theory, but doesn’t seem to do much in practice. It created the conditions where a correctable delinquent like Brandon Perez is permitted to spin out of control and possibly murder someone.
Perez shouldn’t have been detained, the advocates say. But did Borges deserve to die? For teen offenders, particularly members of gangs, we must consider who we are putting at risk under blanket no-bail, no-jail, no-detention policies.
As a further measure of where the city’s priorities regarding youthful offenders lie, consider the career of Vincent Schiraldi, whom de Blasio appointed as the correction commissioner in May. Schiraldi made his name as an advocate of juvenile-justice reform. From 2005 until 2010, he ran Washington, DC’s Youth Rehabilitation Services Department. Schiraldi made headlines when a 17year-old inmate escaped from a cookout at his house, and Schiraldi didn’t notify the cops for almost three hours. No wonder Rikers has gone from bad to worse.
No one is demanding that young teenagers get locked up in the same cell as hardened adult criminals for their malfeasance. But the existing hands-off system essentially authorizes wayward youth to mature into violent adults by refusing to intercede when it is obviously necessary.
This thank you has reverberated through every police precinct in the city.
Queens resident Coretta James has spent the past four years quietly giving out handwritten thankyou notes to New York’s Finest — and she’s on a mission to give one to every member of the NYPD.
“I have tremendous respect for the uniform: military, firemen and cops,” James told The Post. “They are not used to being thanked. And I feel for them. They need encouragement. I used to see guys with 30 or 35 years on the job but no longer,” she said, adding that many are demoralized and retiring earlier.
She called the surge of anti-cop sentiment and the defund-the-police movement that has brought demonstrations and destruction to parts of the city “heartbreaking.”
The idea came to James, 49, after she volunteered with the FDNY to send thank-you cards to service members stationed overseas in Iraq and Afghanistan. When the troops started to return home, she decided to turn her pen and gratitude toward the NYPD.
“I started with the 112th Precinct in Forest Hills, and that just set the tone,” said James.
To date, she has written more than 4,000 cards that she’s given to officers in all of the city’s 77 precincts and some working details at Yankee Stadium. She keeps a list of everyone she has thanked so far. “There are 36,000 cops, so I have a lot of writing to do,” she said. James, who is a nanny by profession, buys packages of Hallmark or American Greetings cards from Walmart and CVS and writes the missives at night and on weekends. She has specific cards for each rank.
In every one she says: “Thank you for your service in the NYPD. It takes a special person to take a job that every time you put on your uniform, you put your life at risk . . . Grateful for your service.”
James typically takes stacks of the epistles into a precinct and asks whomever is on duty for specific names of police present so she can personally address the notes before giving them out. Each envelope is adorned with an American flag sticker.
“I once went into a precinct and gave a card to a police officer, and he said, ‘In my 26 years on the job, this is my first thank-you card I’ve gotten.’ It made me realize what I was doing was very much needed,” said James.
Another officer told James that she had recently given one to his girlfriend, also a member of the NYPD. “He said, ‘She was having a bad day, and then you showed up.’ ” One asked her if the card came with a hug, and James responded with a resounding yes and hearty embrace.
The native of Antigua moved to New York City as a 16-year-old in 1989. At the time, she said police weren’t on her radar, and she does not come from a law enforcement or military family, but she developed an appreciation for the uniform from interacting with them.
“I see them as human beings, because I want them to see me as a human being. Some people think cops crawl out from under a rock, then go home and crawl back under that rock. They are somebody’s son, somebody’s daughter or mother or father.”
And she has forged meaningful relationships with some.
“This is a personal, intimate expression of kindness to another human,” retired NYPD Transit Chief Joe Fox told The Post. Fox, who now works in corporate security and is still active mentoring and coaching members of the force, met James in 2017. But she gave him a card in 2020 as the pair attended a pro-police rally in Marine Park, Brooklyn. The pair struck up a friendship, and he sometimes helps her with department contacts to reach more people.
“For anyone who might think, ‘What does a card do?’ — well, in this environment, when people flash their brights to a police car and give them a thumbs up and a wave, that means more than you know,” Fox said. “They will nod and smile, but it means a lot for someone to say ‘Thank you.’ A card is a lot more than flashing the brights and giving a thumbs up. A written note and a card has a lot of value these days.” He added that many cops hang these cards up in their lockers or take them home to show their family.
James is aware that to some, her simple acts of kindness toward cops can be seen as polarizing.
“I am prepared for blowback. But it’s not about me. It’s about the police, and I want them to know they are appreciated,” said James.
She has also written notes to law enforcement in both Philadelphia and Washington, DC. But her priority now is the NYPD, so she hopes to inspire others with her gratitude project.
“I hope people join in and do this in their own communities,” she said. “It’s really so needed.”