4 Thursday, May 11, 2017 The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com OPINION O n April 18, the Los Angeles Police Department adopted new rules that require police officers to try to defuse situations before firing a weapon. Regardless of how disturbing it is that police departments were previously not operating under these guidelines, one would expect this to mitigate police brutality. With this new rule and growing backlash toward law enforcement agencies, police are surely on their way toward reformation and improvement, right? While this is a step in the right direction, it does not address what is inherently incorrect about police: its principles. In every institution, especially government institutions, principles and values are areas of fierce debate. In fact, the core principle of the size of government is a contributing factor toward the divide in contemporary U.S. politics. Some argue that with bigger government, one sacrifices freedom. Alternatively, others cite that with smaller government, one compromises safety. This continuum that measures security and freedom is often debated among those discussing surveillance, national security and other partisan issues. However, the continuum that is more pressing to the morality of U.S. law enforcement is that of safety and justice. That is to suggest that many times, justice is sacrificed in the name of safety. Specifically, modern law enforcement prioritizes safety over justice, and this prioritization punishes lower-income African Americans for the unsafe conditions in which they often live. Alternatively, a focus on justice could spur reformations resulting in equity among races. Safety and justice are principles that collide with each other, but cannot exist without the other. To put it in concrete terms, justice refers to the equal and fair treatment of an individual under the law. Alternatively, safety is the law’s protection of an individual from any danger or threat to their life. There is often a sacrifice made to prioritize one over the other. Obviously, safety could not truly exist without a level of justice, and vice versa. For instance, a country fully prioritizing justice of all people would allow every Muslim immigrant into its country despite potential terrorist threats. Here, the Muslim immigrant’s justice is valued higher than the complete safety of residents. Alternatively, a country fully prioritizing safety would not permit any Muslim immigrants into the country despite the millions of innocent Muslims who are not terrorists. Here, the immigrant’s justice is sacrificed for the safety of the resident. The trend of police generally prioritizing safety over justice is an unsurprising one. The United States has a retributive justice system — meaning it punishes crime — and is naturally focused on safety. Many will argue safety is always of paramount concern, and if all people’s safety is valued equally, the system is flawless. This is problematic because a prioritization of safety is inherently a punitive focus. That is to say a police force that looks to safety as its guiding principle will always punish those that exist in unsafe conditions. Social conditions such as poverty, low employment rates and lower educational attainment produce unsafe communities, and these conditions are frequently found in African-American-dominated and lower-income communities. This is to suggest that safety guides police to disproportionately target Blacks and the poor. Alternatively, a priority on justice is reformative. By focusing on justice, the social conditions that put safety at risk can become more salient and addressable. Instead of punishing Blackness, justice looks to improve the environment of Blacks in America. This is exemplified through modern developments in predictive policing. The Marshall Project examined HunchLab, a crime-predicting program that “surveys past crimes, but also digs into dozens of other factors like population density; census data; the locations of bars, churches, schools, and transportation hubs; schedules for home games — even moon phases.” HunchLab predicts where crime is likely to be, then sends police to patrol that area more heavily. Craig Atkinson’s documentary “Do Not Resist” also examines a predictive policing program, LACER. LACER goes as far as to predict whether or not a person will be a criminal based off of historical actions, age, sex, race and other characteristics. This is exemplary of law enforcement’s emphasis on safety as a principle. Police departments send more officers to confront areas and individuals more likely to be unsafe. Alternatively, a philosophy of justice may lead police departments to send more beneficial resources toward the areas and individuals. Safety will punish those NISA KHAN EDITOR IN CHIEF SARAH KHAN EDITORIAL PAGE EDITOR DAYTON HARE MANAGING EDITOR 420 Maynard St. Ann Arbor, MI 48109 tothedaily@michigandaily.com Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890. Justice is more important than safety in these high-risk situations; whereas justice will address the conditions that make it high risk. That is to reinforce that justice can be more reformative, and ultimately generate larger change than safety can. This being said, the responsibility does not all lie on law enforcement. It is imperative that citizens start to bear the responsibility as well. In his book, “Between the World and Me,” Ta-Nehisi Coates writes, “I called politicians and questioned them. I was told that the citizens were more likely to ask for police support than to complain about brutality… According to this theory ‘safety’ was a higher value than justice, perhaps the highest value.” Here, it’s made clear that even citizens value safety over justice, that “the destruction of the black body is incidental to the preservation of order.” If any changes are going to be made in law enforcement, it is essential that there be a reformation within ourselves and at the University of Michigan. Our values must change. If justice is to be upheld by the police, we must start to prioritize it as well. —Brennan Pope can be reached at popeb@umich.edu. Carolyn Ayaub Megan Burns Samantha Goldstein Caitlin Heenan Jeremy Kaplan Sarah Khan Anurima Kumar Ibrahim Ijaz Max Lubell Lucas Maiman Alexis Megdanoff Madeline Nowicki Anna Polumbo-Levy Jason Rowland Ali Safawi Sarah Salman Kevin Sweitzer Rebecca Tarnopol Stephanie Trierweiler Anna Polumbo-Levy EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS Unsigned editorials reflect the official position of the Daily’s Editorial Board. All other signed articles and illustrations represent solely the views of their authors. BRENNAN POPE | COLUMN LENA DREVES | COLUMN Fully known E aster morning stands out in my mind from all the collected memories of my childhood. My parents would take my five siblings and me to church. In a sense of quiet reverie, we would listen to the grief of Jesus’s rejection by mankind, and how his ultimate love overcame it all when He rose from the dead. As I sat in that hard pew, fully embracing the love I felt from the story of Jesus’s resurrection, I dedicated my heart to always being full of love and acceptance like Him. This dedication in my heart has been the reason I am able to overcome a destructive belief that LGBTQ- identifying individuals are somehow “sinners” — from certain Christian perspectives — and the reason I have been able to accept myself as an individual attracted to the same sex. Ironic, isn’t it? That faith and love can overcome religion? I can continue in this dedication of love only because I have first received love for who I was. I accept myself and others because I have been accepted by this love. This is my Christianity. Some call it Christianity with a little “c”, some call it spirituality and some call me religious. However, for me, it is Love. It is what I want to receive and what I want to give away. I didn’t fully understand what love meant until I felt hate, and I didn’t fully understand acceptance until I felt rejection. I knew I was gay since I was 17 years old. It took me four years to accept this part of who I am. Though my religion told me I was sinning to accept my identity, it ironically supported me and helped me accept myself. This contradiction changed the way I thought about religion and Christianity specifically. The same heart that surrendered fully to this God I’ve come to know was the heart that knew it was falling in love with a girl. The same heart felt His love and acceptance. The word “intersectionality” was used throughout the winter semester in my Women’s Studies class. I believe I didn’t fully understand the wisdom of the word ‘intersectional’ until recently. The day my mom told me, over the phone, she would not be attending my wedding, I felt I could identify — if only a little — with minority individuals battling the majority. It was only after that week that I understood intersectionality. An individual cannot be “partially” accepted. A Black woman cannot be accepted as a woman without being fully accepted for being Black. An LGBTQAI-identifying individual cannot be accepted as a white person without being accepted for their sexuality. Who we are is not divisible. All the books I read and the movies I ever watched about minority groups experiencing rejection seemed to float through my mind that week: the civil rights movement, women suffrage, the entire LGBTQ community — all brought to mind an understanding of the rejection of minorities simply because of one factor that was “not acceptable” about them, according to society. Some are the wrong color, some are the wrong gender and some love the wrong sex. If I went to get a tattoo today, I would tattoo the words “fully known” from 1 Corinthian 13:12. It states: “For now, we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known”. I find it incredible that God fully knows us, yet also chooses to fully love us. Love chooses to see beyond external characteristics, to not be afraid of individuals who are different, and to embrace the uncertain. Love does not fear. Without fear, I am free to be who I know myself to be. Because of love, and because of God, I am able to allow myself to be fully known without the fear of rejection. The love may come from those around us — or may not for now. However, by choosing to stand in the open, and live according to who I am, I believe it will give others the courage to do the same. —Lena Dreves can be reached at ldreves@umich.edu.