The year was 2020, and like many 15-year-olds, I was convinced that I had the answers to the nation’s most pressing concerns. With three months off from school due to Covid-19, I had ample time to think and research, no longer constrained by algebra homework and piano lessons. My world was rapidly changing. The news exposed police brutality, racial inequality, pandemic protocols, and the urgency of the looming presidential election.
My progressive nature drove me to progressive solutions. I believed the answer to many problems was simple: all cops are bad, and we should defund the police. With N.W.A playing in my headphones and aesthetic political graphics ready to share on Instagram, I felt that my newfound wokeness was undoubtedly justified. If there was a moral high ground, I had ascended to it.
In hindsight, my beliefs were naive and not rooted in real-world experience. Despite my views, I continued to respect police officers in my life. My school SRO, Officer Rosebury, who we had nicknamed “Rosie,” agreed to the students council’s shenanigans and even performed at our pep rally. However, I wasn’t alone in my political views—public confidence in the police had dropped to 48% in 2020, charged by cases of police brutality, racial profiling, and systemic racism.
As the Equal Justice Initiative states, “The deaths of Breonna Taylor and George Floyd make clear that when racism is shielded with a badge and immunity, made more dangerous with a gun and the authority to kill, policing becomes a source of danger and threat rather than a solution.”
Let me be clear: the pain and suffering that has occurred at the hands of law enforcement is inexcusable. I am not here to discount the unjust and traumatic experiences that countless people have endured. Due to my progressive ideology, I believe that we should always be looking for ways to move the nation forward. I don’t think we should ever be content, as there is always room to make institutions better and help more individuals.
In a similar vein, of course, I believe that cops and law enforcement agencies can operate better to say the least. Just like I believe that we can improve our educational system, environmental policies, and the ways that we disagree with each other online. I am simply a spectator looking into systems much larger than me, with perhaps an unhealthy amount of optimism wanting to make the world around me a better place.
However, I now recognize that the solution isn’t defunding the police but improving the system. The idea that all cops are bad is an overused and attention-grabbing sentiment, and defunding the police would have dire consequences.
President Biden in his 2022 State of the Union address, argued: “The answer is not to defund the police. It’s to fund the police. Fund them. Fund them. Fund them with resources and training.” The majority of police officers joined the force to protect the communities they care about. It is dangerous to believe they are all bad and to defund them.
Defunding creates great risks, leaves vulnerable people exposed, and is propelled by a false narrative that every police station operates like we see on television. We can hold police to a higher standard while also recognizing that defunding leads to the elimination of important task forces, disorder, and a rise in injuries and law violations, just to name a few. Reform is possible without abolishing the system.
This understanding became clearer through my own work in criminal justice reform, where I learned that real change doesn’t come from abandoning institutions but collaborating within them. Wokeness without realism can just be an unchecked inflated ego, a lesson I learned as I encountered the realities of the system.
At 17, I was interning at my District Attorney’s Office, and every day I observed heartbreaking stories of people who did not believe they had a second chance. I discovered the high rates of incarceration and recidivism, and that a key factor in these staggering statistics was the inability for the formerly incarcerated to obtain employment post-release. With this in mind, I co-launched Operation Second Chance, a weekly teaching initiative that taught 70 inmates career readiness skills.
This program wouldn’t have been possible without the collaboration of the General District Attorney’s Office, the Jail Administration, and the police officers who assisted us in teaching each week. I came to cultivate meaningful relationships with the law enforcement involved, as did the participants. Effective collaboration leads to rehabilitative programs, positive environments, and the decrease of recidivism and incarceration. This improves not only the individual but families and societies as a whole.
Due to this experience, I learned that collaboration isn’t just an answer; it’s the only path forward. Reform isn’t about vilifying law enforcement; it’s about working together to make the system safer and more just for everyone.
Justice is complicated, and its solutions are rarely simple, leaving many of us exhausted and frustrated. I have come to understand, though, that each of us is simply doing our best. I am a strong believer that if we want true reform, we must collaborate. In today’s divided political climate, it’s easy to see everything as “us vs. them.” Instead, it needs to be “us and them.” In the area of criminal justice, we are all a team striving to improve every player involved. When we stop collaborating, that’s when real injustice begins. Law enforcement belongs at the table, working alongside reformers and advocates to find impactful solutions that can benefit each individual.
