Defunding Could Be the Best Thing That Ever Happened . . .
By: Cynthia Dagnal-Myron
Tags: Racism, Politics And Protest, Equality, Defundthepolice, BlackLivesMatter

I got a heart-rending email from a neighbor yesterday. She works for our local police department part time, and loves the people she works with, cops and all.

Truth be told, I really like the cops here, too. And we’re talking Marana, Arizona. Where you would think they’d be . . . well . . . what most people think they’d be like.

Some may be. But others aren’t. They watch our houses when we go away for awhile. They helped my daughter and me get settled and feel safer when we first moved out here — it’s a rural area. Or was at the time — wide open.

Only a Quik Mart and one kinda famous Western-themed restaurant that people made “pilgrimages” to, from the city, back when. One Fry’s grocery store, one Walgreens . . . country town. Just starting to go suburban.

We built our house from the slab up, and the first week . . . nothing went right. Phone didn’t work. Electricity wasn’t on — and it was pitch black nights out here. Still is.

So my daughter, then still a little bitty girl, and I would walk the couple of blocks to the Quik Mart sometimes just to grab a treat and sit outside together.

And the cops would stop and talk to us. One helped us get our electricity sorted out, worried about my daughter living in a house without it.

Yep. White cop. Really didn’t like the idea of us being out there alone without power. No pun intended there . . .

Now, there are also cops out here —in other parts of town and state — who’ve done things to me that weren’t so cool. I’ve had some truly scary moments. In places where nobody would’ve heard me scream. Or cared if they had.

I’m not that naive.

We’re more purple than red now, but we’ve got a looooong way to go, still. And out my way there are still trucks with Confederate flags on their bumpers and back windows. And slogans that set my teeth on edge and make my heart beat real fast . . .

So the email I got made me sigh. Because I got what the cop was saying. His feelings are hurt and he’s quitting and thinks that a whole lot more cops like him will leave. And that we’ll be in a world of hurt then.

But . . . I beg to differ. Here’s why.

I was a school administrator for many years. In a huge district out here.

And when that district was forced, by court order, to get serious about the disparity in grades and test scores and everything else, between our children of color and their white peers, they dinked around awhile, tinkering with cosmetic fixes that looked good but had absolutely no effect on the systemic issues behind the problems.

And they threw lots and lots and lots of money into those cosmetic fixes, too. They got lots of money for doing it, you see. Part of the court order: serious money.

And they grew very, very fond of that money. Which was not always used as it should’ve been — you saw that coming, right?

In the end, after some very vocal Black and Latinx parents started being elected to the school board and city council and turned up the heat. And the district was again forced to respond.

And one of the most drastic remedies was to shut down and then reopen some of the worst performing schools we had. Most of them in Black and Latinx areas — Native American, too. Schools that had been struggling for decades.

Traditionally, most of the teachers had been white. Many were really clueless and even scared of the kids they were teaching. Others were dedicated and frustrated. Nothing worked. No matter how hard they tried.

And when rumors of closings swept through, a lot of the truly dedicated teachers who’d dedicated their lives to those schools sounded as hurt and angry as the cop who wrote that article I read yesterday.

And I totally understood why. But we also knew that change was necessary. Kids simply weren’t learning. In fact, they weren’t even graduating. They’d given up. And had good reason to.

Long story short…the schools were shut down and then redesigned. The curriculum was planned with the help of local community members and consultants. And new hires were aware, from the start, what would be required. And only the ones willing to do what was required were hired.

Did it work beautifully? Oh, hell no. You know that.

Change is messy. Downright ugly, sometimes. The educational Utopias we were hoping for did not materialize. Not quickly, anyway.

A few schools really blossomed. Others are probably still struggling. Others fell somewhere in the middle of that curve, and have had to do lot of adjusting. The successes were few and far between, but there were some. And we learned from our failures and successes, both.

Most of all, there was a sense of purpose we hadn’t seen before. A willingness to adjust. And to listen to locals — this was definitely new. There were parent groups built into the mix who had to be consulted before changes were made.

Slowed things down some. Having to run everything through those committees. But it also kept the district accountable to the people whose kids had to go to those schools everyday. That, alone, was a huge help. A giant step.

There was, and still is, serious push back from people, mostly white people, who didn’t like these new changes one bit. We knew there would be.

The resistance to “Ethnic Studies” here in Arizona was already legendary. This truly devastating Daily Show moment proves that point better than anything I can say. GOD, it’s embarrassing:

VIDEO: Tucson’s Mexican-American Studios Ban

And therein lies the rub. It’s not just the system; it’s our society that has to face up to racism in a real, meaningful way. And I’m really not sure we can do that.

I’m just being honest. Nothing will work until that happens. And we’re nothing like ready for that yet. In fact, in this case, the resistance is armed and dangerous.

But here’s the point I’m making: risky as it all was, the teachers and administrators who stuck around saw real change and progress. And got the support they needed to keep trying and trying and trying.

Better yet, some schools started to feel more like they belonged to the neighborhoods they were part of. NOT all. Again, there were some spectacular failures.

But the momentum shoved a lot of schools out of the Dark Ages and into an era of accountability and adaptability.

So the cops who stay, and the new ones who replace the ones who don’t, may get to be part of a remarkable process. The new job won’t look anything like that original job description — that job description will have to be rewritten. And they may get a chance to make it sound more like what they always really wanted to do in the first place.

They won’t be asked to do things they’re not trained to do. And they’ll be trained to do that new job differently, too. Won’t be easy going. And things’ll get worse before they get better. You can bet on that.

But maybe the people who stay and the new people who replace the ones who didn’t will be willing to put up with all that. And to do something different. Something real different. Painful, scary stuff that won’t even work sometimes.

I don’t know.

I do know this: we can’t keep doing what we’re doing now. It’s literally killing people.

I just hope it’s not too late…