My mother shared many of her favorite truisms with us girls. For instance, Fools’ names and fools’ faces always appear in public places. Hah. These days, when both fools and non-fools are vying for media attention, that little ditty’s no longer applicable.
Another of her sayings was Scratch where it itches, even if it’s in your britches. I guess she came from a rhyming family. No reason to include it here except that we’ve had fun with it over the years.
The axiom she delivered in her most authoritative voice, and which has lately drawn my focus, is more crucial now than ever: Behave as though the whole world’s watching.
Impossible to attain but worthy of aspiration. Admittedly, in keeping this philosophy always before me, I have failed. For the most part, I embarrass or shame myself on a daily basis. In fact, speaking of fitting phrases, the statement that most accurately defines me is I blush, therefore I am.
But seriously, consider it. How would you behave if the world were watching? What if cameras were following you through every minute of your days? Would you scratch in inappropriate places? Would you treat others with contempt? Would you lie or sneak or raise fists? Or would you go to some effort to act sanely and adhere to a compliant moral path? A small slice of society doesn’t care how they’re viewed or if their bad acts are immortalized. These people are called sociopaths and they’re out there. As to the rest of the populace, it’s disappointing that we’re not all pure of heart at all times; but as a fallback, when our scruples are diluted or eroded, being watched by others is the strong motivator that keeps us righteous. Like it or not, public opinion is the way in which we are accountable to one another.
In the last weeks statues have come down—some rightfully, some needlessly; some violently, some sensibly so as to be preserved. And renaming forts is in the works—a demand that’s painless; definitely not worth getting riled about, though some aren’t prudent when it comes to picking their battles. And accurate statistics concerned with crime and justice are lifted up as evidence from both sides of the equality debate as powers ponder reassessing, possibly even defunding, police forces.
Reasonable criticisms and suggestions have been voiced. One pertinent issue is that police officers aren’t mental health professionals. They aren’t equipped to deal with desperate druggies and confused schizophrenics. Well, there’s no arguing with that. Cops don’t step out to do their jobs armed with psychology degrees.
A knowledgeable few have suggested revisiting what constitutes a criminal offence, which makes sense. There’s a soul-shattering number of men serving long prison terms for minor drug offenses and various other petty crimes.
Also, the traditional bail program should be reevaluated because arrestees who can’t afford to buy their way out of their troubles end up getting sucked deeper and deeper into the system. This, in itself, stokes the imbalance between rich and poor. Not to mention that our overpopulated prisons are a drain that never ceases to suck.
The need to take a look at our justice system is obvious; yet no one seems to be discussing what to me has been the most shocking factor of all: the lack of intelligence and awareness shown by the officers who have lately become visible in the public arena.
Folks in blue with badges have bodycams. Presumably they’re aware of this. They strap the things on. They maintain their upkeep. They’re expected to offer them up as evidence-on-demand. Those cameras are with them always.
Also, surely a cop realizes that every time he interacts with a civilian, most especially an African American, spectators gather. Cameras are held aloft and pointed; and whatever the lenses capture is posted to bear witness on the feeds; and the footage is sold, sometimes given, to news stations to be analyzed again and again by commentators who are gifted in the art of persuasion and provocation.
With cameras so prevalent, why are we seeing these tragic atrocities on our televisions?
Is it possible that, during an officer’s training, no instructor tells recruits to Behave as though the whole world’s watching? Maybe this wisdom is so universal, so evident, that those who train police officers assume it doesn’t need to be taught.
And yet, a Neanderthug in uniform choked and killed an unarmed man in front of the entire population of the planet. Who gave this officer his power? Who declared him suitable in the first place? That someone who is supposed to represent the best of us unleashed the darkest part of himself with such unwavering persistence, while knowing he had an audience, makes me wonder—was he truly that arrogant, that entitled? Or was he just that stupid?
All this fury is justified.
This shameful act is being held up everywhere as an example of what we stand for.
We blush, therefore we are.
I had no picture to fit the blog, so I chose this sunflower, which planted itself in the middle of David’s tomato cages.
