Where are the heroes?
I’m writing to you because I’m afraid and I can’t call 9-1-1. Not because I live on Mason Street, so close to all the “crazies” and “junkies” Victorians refer to when I tell them I live here, but because I’m afraid of getting killed by the manic cops that are supposed to protect me from harm. I’m tired of walking home at night, legally crossing a street in a designated cross-walk, white man glowing, and leaping back when a cop rips through, gunning his engine, red and blues turned off. I’m afraid of biking down one of Victoria’s many one-way streets and smacking into a police SUV while they drive up the opposite and WRONG WAY without so much as headlights.
I’m saddened and angered by all the violence I keep reading and hearing about. Where are the protectors our tax dollars pay to provide? Where are the heroes our hope holds out for?
When did policing become power-tripping?