Revelations in a Cop Car

Last night I spent two hours in a police car, the K-9 unit to be exact. Before you start wondering what misdemeanors I could have violated let me assure you - I never get caught! This ride was for different purposes. My journalism teacher insisted that we take a jaunt around the city with a police officer and then write a paper about it. What was supposed to be about Rexburg's finest turned into a paper of revelations.

Before I met with Officer Hirschi (pronounced, Hershey, like the candy) I started thinking of all the questions I was going to ask him. Living in a secluded town of small population and an overly predominate religion (Mormons) I knew that we wouldn't see much action; this was going to be like taking a ride along in Mayberry.

Officer Hirschi and I met in the back of the police station at 9pm. The sun held onto its last chance of light before giving up in favor of the night. Right away I could see why this officer chose the K-9 unit as he seemed to have a preference of dogs to people. That wasn't nearly as surprising as we appeared to be about the same age, which made me a little less nervous that I was going to do or say something to offend him. I still held onto some anxiety that I might take a picture of something that's confidential or hit the siren button on accident.

We started the night with an odd form of repetition: question, answer, silence. Question, answer, silence.
"How long have you been a police officer," I asked, too worried that maybe the slang of 'cop' would be seen as too common or something.
"7 years"
Silence.
"Is anyone else in your family in law enforcement?"
"My dad."
Silence
the only comment Hirschi mustered on his own without probing was, "This is going to be a long night."

I kept my constant desire I have, to hear my own voice, muted. The stream of voices on the police scanner filled the car with codes that meant nothing to me, but I didn't want to interrupt them. They all held different importance to the policeman next to me and I didn't want him to miss something important.

I suppressed my logorrhea for as long as I could, but began monologing; mostly about how I couldn't wait to move out of Idaho. Lord love and bless these people, but the culture here is such of a mold that I don't want to press myself into. Of course, I said everything with the assumption that this officer was Mormon as well. He stopped me mid-ramble and said, "We are on two different sides of the spectrum. I'm not Mormon."

In our greatest difference we found common ground. And the evening changed.

I grew up being the minority, religion wise, in a small town with molds of its own. I knew exactly what it felt like having my beliefs constantly questioned by those around me. Hirschi was now in the boat I jumped ship from years ago.

The pattern: question, comment, silence, excused itself and allowed conversation to take over. It turns out; we had more interesting things to say! Even the streaming of codes over the radio took a back seat. Hirschi opened up about his wife and how she's a successful real estate closer. They have three children of all different races. Their youngest they just adopted from Texas. He would show me pictures and I soaked in every story. Then, Hirschi told me what it was like for him to be a cop and different things he'd seen and done. He told me about finding college students cannoddling in church parking lots and we laughed at the irony behind it.

As the evening ended quicker then it began, I hopped out of the car and thanked Officer Hirschi for the experience. He smiled and joked that I better drive slowly home so he wouldn't have to give me a ticket.

For the rest of night, where I was still awake, I tried to remember what sparked the change in our drive along. What switched our view of one another? Then all at once it hit me: I was able to know the man behind the badge when I stopped talking to the badge and started talking to the man! Everything I had prepared before our drive could have been answered by any policemen or women in the station. I hadn't prepared for the actual person I was going to be meeting.

How many times in our lives have we done this? We go talk to the nurse, the teacher or the boss without realizing that there are people behind that profession. They all have favorite TV shows, beloved family and friends all outside of their careers. And they want to be viewed as people, as we all do.

I learned that night that there's a reason God didn't just leave the idea of people on paper, we were all meant to be seen in different dimensions.