I recently wrote an in-depth article for Amazon about the trials and tribulations of growing up in the Sixties and Seventies with a Black cop for a father and how that influenced the man I was to become, both as an athlete and as an activist. The following excerpt gives you some insight into what it was like for me as a child in New York City during the most violent civil rights unrest in U.S. history. My father\u2019s badge was both a moral compass and a burdening weight. And that, as Robert Frost says, has made all the difference.

My father\u2014Lieutenant Ferdinand Alcindor of the NYPD\u2014was a transit cop working out of the 145th Street and St. Nicholas Avenue station who patrolled the subways, trains, and platforms to keep people safe. He was dedicated to serving all the people of New York City. But he was also committed to being a role model in the Black community, to being seen as someone who recognized the inequities of being Black and who silently bore that burden with dignity and purpose. Many of the principles I hold dearest about justice and activism are the result of his noble example, even though he definitely wouldn\u2019t agree with all my public political stances or the steps I took to promote them. He didn\u2019t support my boycott of the 1968 Olympic basketball team or my participation in the Cleveland Summit, nor would he have endorsed my criticisms of the police after the murders of Michael Brown, George Floyd, and Breonna Taylor or my enthusiastic agreement with the Black Lives Matter protests of 2020. But he certainly would have agreed with my desire to serve my community. This is the story of how my father\u2019s role as a Black cop gave me a unique perspective on the front lines of activism, how it inspired me to action, and how it shaped the form that action would take. Not just as a Black activist, but as a student, an athlete, a writer, a man, and an American.


My Father Is A Policeman Essay


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My uncle is a police officer as well. So I have two people to worry about every day, instead of just one. Police Officers are brothers. I have got to know my dad's partners like they are my family too. I even call them my uncles, because of that bond a policeman has his fellow officers and their families.

NPR's Audie Cornish talks with Kareem Abdul-Jabbar about his new essay, "Black Cop's Kid," on growing up with a police officer as a father and how Black activism in sports has changed since the 1960s.

A new essay titled "Black Cop's Kid" touches on an experience that sounds recent - news of a Black teenager killed by a white police officer and seeing the violent clashes between protesters and law enforcement that ensued.

CORNISH: In his essay, Abdul-Jabbar reflects on how he saw his late father, NYPD Lieutenant Ferdinand Alcindor Sr. He saw him as a hero in their community, and he talks about how that view was shaken after seeing other officers target Black protesters during the Harlem riots of 1964.

ABDUL-JABBAR: Well, I didn't talk to my father about it. I'd never questioned it before. But, you know, for me in the moment, I saw, wow, it's not good to be in the middle of all of this. You know, it's something that you, as an individual, don't have the power to sort out.

CORNISH: Abdul-Jabbar told me more about his path towards sorting it all out and eventually following his father's footsteps in the, quote, "family business" - not law enforcement but, in his words, fighting for justice as an athlete and writer.

CORNISH: You write in the essay that you see a direct connection between Black activism in sports and the general view that athletes should, as one right-wing commentator kind of put it a few years ago, shut up and play. Can you expand on that? What is it about Black activism that you think has, in a way, made it difficult or created kind of cautionary lessons for other athletes in general?

CORNISH: In the end, what would you like people to take away from this essay? And what do you think we have to do in terms of bringing political will to have a substantive conversation about police reform?

My dad has always heard me out no matter if he knew I was wrong or not; he let me tell my side of the story and I know that is something he carries over into his work every day. More recently, police officers have been portrayed in a sinister way and that saddens me because I know my dad is one of the greatest men out there. His occupation does not define who he is but rather, he determines who he is seen as a police officer because of who he is. Sometimes I catch myself being cautious about telling others that my dad is a police officer but I quickly realize I have nothing to be cautious about. My father is genuine and good and that shows in his career every day.

We appreciate every officer's child that took the time to submit their essay for our $500 scholarship giveaway, and we've selected the winning essay that belonged to Courtney Ledbetter from Missouri. The photo is of her and her law enforcement father. We have no doubt she'll do great things in her life.

All of what I said may not be true for everyone, but it is true for me. My dad is the best person I know, and I have never met a braver or more just officer. I worry for him every day, but I wouldn't trade what I grew up with for something different. I wrote this essay for my dad because what it means to be the child of a law enforcement officer is this. Being the child of an officer has its ups and downs, but that's because they put themselves at risk for others. While they may miss a few holidays or worry their families day and night, they raise their kids to be the best person they can be because nothing means more to them than their family.

I do not remember ever having read anything by Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. I knew that he was an author and had written a middle-grade series and a mystery series, but I have not previously read those. I picked this up because Alan Jacobs, one of my favorite essayists, recommended it. And because it was available to borrow for kindle and audiobook in the Kindle Unlimited library.

I know broadly who Kareem Abdul-Jabbar is, but I am not a sports fan. I know he was retired. But I had to look him up on Wikipedia to know he is 74 and played in the NBA from 1969 until 1989. I knew he played for the Lakers but didn't know he was a coach for over a decade after retiring as a player. I didn't know he grew up in NYC. I didn't know his father was a cop. I also didn't know that he has a number of non-fiction books primarily on Black history or memoir.

This essay is enough to convince me that I need to read more of his writing. One of the reasons that I think I have not picked his books up previously is that he frequently collaborates in his writing. Most books have coauthors. This essay does not.

The essay is roughly forty pages and 64 minutes in audio. He grapples with the problems of racism within policing and the difficult but important position that Black cops play. The pressure that Black cops have to not push back against racism or corruption in policing and the distrust that Black cops often have from the broader Black community. His relationship with his father was one where his father did not speak a lot. And so he explores that, as well as his attempts to honor his father's memory through his own work for justice and in his writing. This type of long-form, somewhat meandering essay, is a style I really like. If you have a kindle or listen to audiobooks, it is cheap or free and worth reading/listening to.

Aisha Sabatini Sloan is the author of the essay collections The Fluency of Light, Dreaming of Ramadi in Detroit, Borealis, and Captioning the Archives. She is an assistant professor of creative writing at University of Michigan. Her column for the Daily, Detroit Archives, received the 2021 National Magazine Award for Columns and Commentary.

Eric Arthur Blair was born on 25 June 1903 in Motihari, Bengal (now Bihar), British India into what he described as a "lower-upper-middle class" family.[6][7] His great-great-grandfather, Charles Blair, was a wealthy slaveowning country gentleman and absentee owner of two Jamaican plantations;[8] hailing from Dorset, he married Lady Mary Fane, daughter of the 8th Earl of Westmorland.[9] His grandfather, Thomas Richard Arthur Blair, was an Anglican clergyman. Orwell's father was Richard Walmesley Blair, who worked as a Sub-Deputy Opium Agent in the Opium Department of the Indian Civil Service, overseeing the production and storage of opium for sale to China.[10] His mother, Ida Mabel Blair (ne Limouzin), grew up in Moulmein, Burma, where her French father was involved in speculative ventures.[9] Eric had two sisters: Marjorie, five years older; and Avril, five years younger. When Eric was one year old, his mother took him and Marjorie to England.[11][n 1] In 2014 restoration work began on Orwell's birthplace and ancestral house in Motihari.[12]

In 1904, Ida Blair settled with her children at Henley-on-Thames in Oxfordshire. Eric was brought up in the company of his mother and sisters and, apart from a brief visit in mid-1907,[13] he did not see his father until 1912.[10] Aged five, Eric was sent as a day-boy to a convent school in Henley-on-Thames, which Marjorie also attended. It was a Roman Catholic convent run by French Ursuline nuns.[14] His mother wanted him to have a public school education, but his family could not afford the fees. Through the social connections of Ida Blair's brother Charles Limouzin, Blair gained a scholarship to St Cyprian's School, Eastbourne, East Sussex.[10] Arriving in September 1911, he boarded at the school for the next five years, returning home only for school holidays. Although he knew nothing of the reduced fees, he "soon recognised that he was from a poorer home".[15] Blair hated the school[16] and many years later wrote an essay "Such, Such Were the Joys", published posthumously, based on his time there. At St Cyprian's, Blair first met Cyril Connolly, who became a writer and who, as the editor of Horizon, published several of Orwell's essays.[17] be457b7860

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