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This criTical momenT for the future of public
safety is not America’s first. “We have been in crisis
around policing before, and very little changes,” says
NYU’s Friedman. “And I’m going to be extremely dis-
appointed if we find ourselves in disappointment
several years down the road.”
Thousands of people have taken to the streets
across the nation protesting police brutality and
systemic racism. At the same time, violent crime
has surged in some cities. The usual summertime
bump in crime may well be compounded this year
by a pandemic that has left millions of Americans
out of work —Camden’s unemployment rate is even
higher than it was in 2012—and, some officials
have suggested, by slowdowns from some police
forces unhappy at being publicly vilified. (Police
departments tend to say they’re not slowing down,
just overwhelmed.) But the residents of poorer
neighborhoods are the ones who stand both to
lose and to gain the most. And the recent violence
is both ammunition for those wary of too much
change too quickly and a reminder of the need for a
public-safety solution that actually works.
“Some people look at [the new paradigm] as
the removal of trained officials to deal with vio-
lent incidents,” says Goff of the Center for Polic-
ing Equity. “Police can help communities stay safe
from the violence of crime. They can’t protect the
community from the violence of poverty. Being
poor is violent.”
If this summer proves to be a time for progress on
the problems that make everyone feel less secure, the
protests and the pandemic won’t be the only things
that set 2020 apart. For some activists, it finally
seems possible to take that difficult step forward
on the unspoken but perhaps more crucial counter-
part to “defunding” the police: funding communi-
ties to help them protect themselves. If one side of
the coin is on display in Camden, the second side is
not yet minted.
“I think that some of these words are easy to mis-
interpret,” Goff says of the effectiveness of defunding
as a catchall term for what needs to happen. “I’m in-
terested in having a brand-new conversation on what
public safety looks like. I care more about making
sure that vulnerable communities have the resources
they need so they don’t have to call the police in the
first place.”
There’s an appetite for that in Minneapolis. Betty
Davis, a chemical-dependency technician who lives
in nearby St. Paul, is eager for the Minneapolis city
council to move ahead. “Do something: classes,
seminars, something in the community so we know
how to step in,” she says. “Educate the community.
Get it together. One chord.”
The challenge—for Minneapolis, or whatever
jurisdiction fashions what will amount to a test run
for the new paradigm—is to find both the language
OLUCHI OMEOGA
Omeoga, near
the George Floyd
Memorial in
Minneapolis on July 1 7,
calls this moment of
potential change a
“time of theorizing” as
activists try “to build
a world that does not
exist yet”
DOMINIQUE JOHNS
Johns, a lifelong
Camden resident,
speaks with a friend
on July 17; Camden
has been held up by
many as an example
of change in a police
system, but some
citizens want an even
deeper transformation
BRYAN MORTON
Morton, on July 16,
coaching a team for
the Little League he
started in Camden in
2011, says his city’s
relaunched police
department has done a
good job of establishing
partnerships with
residents
MORTON, JOHNS: WIDLINE CADET FOR TIME; OMEOGA: RAHIM FORTUNE FOR TIME
