I saw it, I lived it, and I continue to witness it today.
Born into a law enforcement family, I was immersed in the culture of public service from the very beginning. My father and uncle were both police officers, and by the age of five, I already knew I wanted to follow in their footsteps. I grew up around men and women who wore the badge with pride, integrity, and a genuine commitment to their communities. I learned early on that being a police officer was not just a job—it was a calling.
That early exposure guided my path. In college, I pursued internships in various departments while earning degrees in Criminal Justice and Criminology. After graduation, I applied to law enforcement agencies at the local, state, and federal levels. I was determined to enter what I believed was one of the most noble and necessary professions in our society.
My father taught me that law enforcement was about far more than enforcing the law. It was about serving people in whatever way they needed—sometimes as a protector, sometimes as a counselor, a mentor, a social worker, a nurse, even a priest. And only when every other role failed, as an enforcer. That philosophy defined the generation of officers I began my career with. We were public servants, and we believed in our responsibility to protect and support every member of our community.
But by the mid-1990s, I began to see a shift—one that started small, but grew with alarming speed and reach. New recruits arrived on the force with a very different mindset. Many did not seem to share the values of service or empathy. Instead of wanting to protect and serve, some were drawn by the badge, the gun, the perceived authority, and the chance to rack up statistics, overtime, or promotions. There was a visible and troubling disdain among some for the very communities we were supposed to serve.
Simultaneously, the tone from the top—the administration—began to change. Our leaders no longer emphasized community policing or relationship-building. Instead, they leaned into a model of law enforcement lifted not from real-world experience, but from Hollywood and military propaganda. Departments began transforming into para-military forces.
We saw this change in our equipment. Our standard-issue handguns were replaced with high-capacity, semi-automatic weapons, often upgraded every few years without clear necessity. Shotguns were removed from our squad cars and replaced with rifles capable of shooting a target a mile away—completely inappropriate for dense residential areas. We even acquired a military-grade armored vehicle capable of smashing through homes or businesses. I remember asking myself—and my superiors—what exactly we were preparing for. There was never a good answer.
The justification was always the same: “The criminals are better armed than we are.” But in my 25 years of serving a community on the border of a large metropolitan city and only once did an officer from my department discharge a firearm and strike a person. Despite that, we trained and equipped ourselves as if we were heading into war.
It didn’t end with hardware. The culture of policing itself shifted. Training evolved from community-oriented to fear-based. We were taught to see everyone—every citizen, every interaction—as a potential threat. Situational awareness turned into hyper-vigilance. Compassion was replaced with suspicion. And worst of all, the Constitution became negotiable.
Let me be clear: I support strong training that protects both officers and the public. But what we were being taught went beyond safety—it was indoctrination. Officers were trained to prioritize their own survival above all else, even when it meant violating the rights of the very people they were sworn to serve. Fear was used as both a tool and a justification for anything that followed.
Over time, I watched the profession I loved morph into something unrecognizable. We were no longer guardians—we were becoming warriors. The mission had shifted from “serve and protect” to “control and dominate.” And now, under the current right-wing federal administration, that shift is accelerating at a terrifying pace.
We are no longer simply talking about the militarization of police departments—we are now witnessing the weaponization of our military against our own citizens. This administration has crossed a red line. The U.S. military, trained for combat and elimination of threats, is being deployed on American soil to enforce domestic policy. That is not policing—that is occupation.
Masked, unidentified agents are pulling American citizens from their homes, workplaces, schools, and communities—often without warrants or explanation. Many of those targeted are immigrants, the very backbone of our economy and cultural heritage. They are being deported, sometimes to countries they’ve never set foot in, stripped from the only life they’ve ever known. Even veterans—men and women who fought under the American flag and earned Purple Hearts—are being cast out like criminals.
This is not the America I grew up in. This is not the profession I dedicated my life to. And it is certainly not the kind of country I want to pass down to future generations.
But I am not giving up.
I will stay and fight—against the fear, the tyranny, and the deliberate manipulation of truth. I will fight to restore the soul of law enforcement, to remind those who wear the badge that their duty is to serve the people—not a political agenda. I will fight to ensure that our military is never again turned against our own citizens. Because we are all Americans, regardless of color, creed, or political affiliation. And we are not the enemy.
Those who must be held accountable for this grotesque abuse of power are not found in the streets of our cities—they’re in the halls of Washington, cloaked in authority, feeding the flames of division and fear.
I lived through the transformation of law enforcement—and I am still watching it unfold, darker and more dangerous than ever. But I will not stay silent. The soul of our democracy depends on it.
Books to Understand How Policing Went Too Far
Support independent bookstores by buying through Bookshop.org:
- Rise of the Warrior Cop – Radley Balko. An investigative history showing how police became indistinguishable from soldiers—and what that means for civil liberties. Available at https://civilheresy.com/Rise of the Warrior Cop
- To Protect and Serve – Norm Stamper. Written by a former police chief, this is a blueprint for restoring policing to a service-first model. Availabe at https://civilheresy.com/To Protect and Serve
- The End of Policing – Alex S. Vitale. A compelling case that reform isn’t enough—policing must be fundamentally reevaluated. Available at https://civilheresy.com/The End of Policing
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