One night after dinner at the end of last school year I asked my kids if they would be willing to write about their experience growing up with a police officer for a dad. I figured that there were plenty of kids out there just like them who maybe had some of the same thoughts and feelings and would be able to relate, and still others who were new to the #coplife and wondered what to expect.
When I broached the subject I tried to give my kids the latitude to say whatever they wanted, bearing in mind that other people were going to read it. I say tried because the look on my kids’ faces told me that they thought this request was some kind of a trap (that’s a joke, kids). I also figured that many of you have kids of your own and wondered if you had ever stopped to consider the toll that your job takes on them and how it affects their world. If you haven’t, don’t feel bad. It took me 18 years to do it.
A Word From My Oldest Daughter
What’s it like having a dad who’s a police officer?
Where to begin?
My dad has been a police officer for as long as I can remember. I have never known anything different. My dad started the police academy when I was four years old. From that day on my life was forever changed — for the good and the bad.
The years that followed brought midnight shifts and SWAT call-outs. And along with that came the fear and love of having a police officer for a dad. Kids at school would ooh and awe at the fact that my dad was a police officer, that he was on the SWAT team, and that he got to put bad guys behind bars. But to be quite honest, I hated (and sometimes still hate) hearing from people about my dad’s job. I hated that people didn’t truly understand what it’s like to have your dad walk out the door each day not knowing whether or not he would be injured or killed.
Don’t get me wrong, I am proud that my dad is a police officer. I am proud that my dad dedicated the majority of his adult life to serving his community and his country. I am proud that my dad puts his life on the line each and every day. But that sense of pride also comes at a cost — a sometimes overwhelming amount of fear.
Here are a couple of examples:
One day this fear overtook me and I started to pray that my dad would just quit his job. A couple years ago, my dad was in SWAT training and something happened. I was away at school when my mom called me and delivered the news that he had been rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery. I felt like I was in the movies where all you can hear is the beating of your own heart and all other sound fades away. The table and chairs and walls around me started to get blurry as I tried to process what my mom was telling me.
It turns out my dad had a training accident, fell, and smashed his face on something. He had to have stitches across his face and suffered a severe head injury that has caused him a bunch of problems. He was then treated like a liability by the department’s leadership after years of faithful and honorable service. My dad had regularly put himself through crazy training scenarios and answered countless calls involving dangerous people, and this is how his own department treated him?
During this last year, as protests spread across the country, my dad stood firmly in the streets as people spit at him and his colleagues, threw bottles at them, and called them names. The media called them all murderers and racists, and pushed the lie that police departments should be defunded. People across the country bought into this lie and believed that what my dad went through and did each day was unnecessary. The years of sacrifice he made leaving his family at home to protect the community now seemed pointless, wasted.
Tell me, honestly, how would you feel if your dad risked his life each day to protect the ungrateful people of the world? How would you feel if your dad had to miss Thanksgiving or Christmas just because someone decided it would be a good idea to shoot somebody else? How would you feel if people close to you shared posts or videos that said we should defund the police, that all police officers were murderers and racists, and that what they do each day isn’t a sacrifice for the officer or their families?
For those of you who are daughters and sons of police officers: I stand with you. I understand the sacrifice that you, yourselves, have made. I understand the mixed emotions that you may have because your parent is a police officer. I understand how each day you think, “What’s today going to bring? God, please keep him safe.”
My advice to you is to make every moment with them count and to keep advocating for all police officers. It won’t be easy, but remember you should be proud knowing that your parent is willing to put their life on the line in order to make the world a better place.
I also want to say a great big thank you to those who choose to serve as police officers! Thank you for your service and your sacrifice! It matters to me.
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– Have you asked your kids how your job has affected them?
– How can you better insulate them from the cold world we operate in?
– Are you spending quality time with them?
– What can you do today to be the mom or dad they need?
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Thanks for reading! Do you have a story that you think we could learn from and that you’d like to share with Johnny Tactical nation? Fill out the contact form and include your name, rank, and department, or email it to [email protected] and follow these guidelines:
– It must be a firsthand account
– True
– Have a lesson, principle, or tactic to apply
– Cleaned of names, dates, and places
– Include your call sign
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