I don’t think I’m being overly dramatic when I say: It has been a couple of seriously heavy weeks in this country.
And, honestly, I don’t even feel like writing. Literally, the only writing I seem to be able to force myself to do is contractually obligated items with a hard deadline. I’m in awe of everyone who seems to be able to just get on with things.
I don’t really feel like doing anything other than stalking secluded mountaintop chalets on Zillow and then decorating said dream houses in Scandinavian minimalist cabin chic via Pinterest every damn second of the day because I just want to hide far, far away from all the news.

But I know that is not helpful or productive.
There is just nothing I can say about the current climate that hasn’t already been said, by those who are far more eloquent than I am. So I’ve been taking the advice to be quiet and listen. Listen to those voices who have stories that have been muted or ignored. Take it in. Reflect on it. Be more than an ally, be an accomplice. Be antiracist. Don’t think I know what others have gone through, because there’s no way I can. Just be proactive, supportive and take action every chance I get.
I grew up, like many people, with a deep-rooted respect for the police. Any figures of authority, really, but especially the police. Unlike the sheriff’s departments, who were the guys that came to serve and carry out eviction notices when the adults in my life didn’t fulfill their rental obligations, the police were the good guys. They were the ones who kept the peace, the ones who came and broke up the domestic disputes, the ones who could throw cold water on a hot situation.
As I got a little bit older, my thoughts about the police changed from one of “They’re the good guys” to “Ehhhh, just don’t mess with the police.” I thought, if you aren’t doing anything wrong, there shouldn’t be any issues. Minimize exposure and no one has any problems, right?

But we all now know: that’s not the case. Even when a Black man, woman or transgender person is complying, there is no escaping deep-rooted, systemic, race-based violence and, possibly, death. It’s just now, there’s phone video to prove it.
When Live PD premiered on A&E in October 2016, we got hooked right away. It became mandatory weekend viewing in our household. We cheered on the good guys (the cops) and laughed at the bad guys (the criminals) and applauded whenever they gave an update on a cold case that had been closed, thanks to the watchful eye and helpful tips of Live PD viewers.

We also noticed that it was formulaic and sometimes, the cops gave Black people a seriously hard time for seemingly minor infractions, while letting white people go with just a warning. Drunk white lady drivers were allowed to yell at police officers who pulled them over while Black people who were just parked outside of a convenience store were searched. The show has been accused and sued over racial profiling.
For this and other reasons, we stopped watching Live PD about a year in. For us, it stopped being entertaining and started being, I don’t know, I guess….disturbing?
I look back on it now and I feel such shame for even watching that show for so long. I actually thought it could be a good thing, showing a good side of cops and how they work in their communities. I was wrong.
We weren’t entirely surprised by the news that the show had been cancelled. But what was (slightly) surprising was this:
“The cancellation also comes after an Austin, Texas, newspaper and television station reported fresh details of the case of Javier Ambler, a black man who died while being arrested by law enforcement in 2019. A camera crew with Live PD was there and recorded footage of the incident.”
Another video of another black man dying at the hands of another police officer in broad daylight in front of witnesses (a camera crew, no less) and no one stepping in to do anything about it.
We have seriously got to do better.