P1 First Person: Who are your heroes?

By Richard Meiresonne, St. Charles (Ill.) Police Dept. (retired, 32 yrs.)

When I retired from policing in 2005, I was lucky to pick up teaching Criminal Justice studies at a couple local community colleges. I have found this to be a fulfilling journey. There is something critically important about shaping young minds who want, very badly, to be included in the policing profession. As part of this academic and professional journey, I found myself looking for law enforcement officers these young people could grow to emulate.

As first I began looking at the more famous examples; that is, chiefs who have risen through the ranks to become leaders of large departments. They would become stellar examples of professionalism and leadership, I reasoned. Several came to mind. I soon rejected that approach, as even though some have had remarkable journeys, most of their accomplishments were far from something the average student could grasp. For a young person looking into the profession these accomplishments were a far cry from their reality and difficult for them to grasp.

We all know that the first part of goal setting is to make the goal attainable. I struggled with this for awhile until I realized that there are a lot of great examples in policing for young people to grasp and emulate. The challenge was to make it real for them. How does it apply to law enforcement as they perceive it? I had worked with a lot of great professionals thru the years, how could I make their example a reality for students? None of these officers ever rose to the stature of “heroes” as we define that, yet everyday went beyond the call to make their communities better. Not only safer, but better. No big paychecks or acclaim perhaps no recognition at all, yet they continued on.

Maybe the fault then is not with the lack of recognizable people who fit the definition, but how we implement the definition. Law enforcement suffers from character misinterpretation, if not character assassination. We have allowed ourselves to be defined by others — namely Hollywood and the media. The folks who make the films describe us without any fair input by us. Hollywood portrays cops as square jawed, scowling, breaking all the rules mavericks, with a very big gun, quick to shoot and faster with a caustic punch line. TV, isn’t any fairer. Either we have a big bird on our shoulder, abs to die for, and are more comfortable with the seamy side of life than the normal existence of house payments, car payments and two kids at home. Doe s any of this fit the definition of police officers you know? Hardly, most guys I knew who lived the tough guy image ran afoul of their sergeant and chief and didn’t last long.

Even though the characters on Reno911 and Barney Miller might seem closer to the reality of policing, they hardly serve to paint a example of the average cop. So who then are the real heroes in our profession, that set the pace, who we strive to be like? Are we really content with Hollywood and TV giving us our role models?

Before I go any further, frequently we will hear, after the tragic death of an officer that they “were the real heroes” And they are. No one can deny someone who gave the ultimate sacrifice as being less than a hero. But truly, that unselfish bravery and courage is not only evident in their death, but in their whole service, but how can that be portrayed? Is it necessary for heroism to be defined by a singular encounter? And must this encounter always be violent?

There is, I think, another form of heroism. When I look back at my time as an officer, the most memorable events are not the fight calls or gun calls — they’re the times I really made a difference to someone. Maybe I wasn’t even aware of it at the time but later received a letter from a mom whose child was having problems and I intervened, thanking me for the help. Or someone stopping me during a bar check and saying “hey remember when you helped me:” and really I didn’t but played along, and it was good to know I had made a difference to this person.

There is, in our profession, a different form of heroism. We don’t talk about it much, but we all do it. It is such a part of what we do that we sometimes don’t even see it or acknowledge it. It is not only unheralded, but unspoken. What I’m talking about is the cop who spends a few extra minutes talking to the crying child; who makes sure the victim is comforted; who has a cup a coffee with someone on the down and out. The cop who takes the time. The cop who everyday goes to work, regardless of thier own problems, never knowing what that day will bring, no matter how surprising or deadly or scary or even boring. Everyday, that cop delivers to their community what no one else would: that voice of calm in the night, the voice that says, no matter what, it’s OK, on my watch, we will make it ok.

For me, policing has never been about how many arrests we make or tickets we write, even though at times, we all want it to be that. Policing has always been about helping those who find it difficult to help themselves. Our job is to make the community, society and the individual better. And we do so, daily, with no recognition, no fanfare and no exception.

Heroes, then, is what we all are. All police officers are leaders. Leadership in policing is not determined by rank or position, the most stellar examples of leadership I have ever witnessed were within the ranks of patrolmen, who gave unselfishly, every day. So, then who are the real heroes? Those who put the gun on everyday and the badge and enter their communities with a profound desire to make it better.

Hollywood might make what we do seem glamorous, but we make it real. That is the real work of heroes.