Sarah is a CrossFit Coach at the “Mighty CrossFit” gym in San Diego, and daughter of Blue Courage Senior Consultant, Howard Powers. Her gym was honoring a San Diego officer, Jonathan “J.D.” De Guzman, by dedicating and naming Saturday’s WOD (Workout of the Day) for Officer De Guzman. Officer De Guzman was recently shot and killed in the line of duty. Several gyms across San Diego were honoring him in this way.
“The Los Angeles Police Department will create a novel program to reach out to the families of people killed during encounters with officers and help them navigate the often-complicated aftermath of such incidents…”
Continue reading the article at the link below.
Amidst rising tensions between law enforcement and communities of color across the nation, Black Lives Matter supporters joined forces with the Wichita Police for a cookout last weekend. What was originally planned as a protest turned into a picnic, where over 1,000 community members came together for food and dance.
“It wasn’t about officers dancing, it wasn’t about the food, it was about the issues we’re trying to address within this community,” Wichita community organizer AJ Bohannon said. “It was really genuinely only the first step in a long journey ahead of us.”
AJ Bohannon, community organizer and activist in Wichita, hugs a fellow community member at the First Steps Cookout at McAdams Park last weekend.
Here in Kansas City, Chato Villalobos, a Latino officer with the KCPD, hopes that Kansas City can start, and continue to have that same conversation.
“Not just talk, but action plans,” Villalobos told host Matthew Long-Middleton on KCUR’s Central Standard. “We have a long ways to go.”
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Please help Savannah get her message to as many officers as she can. Thank you.
Great read on resilience.
Shawn Achor and Michelle Gielan
JUNE 24, 2016
As constant travelers and parents of a 2-year-old, we sometimes fantasize about how much work we can do when one of us gets on a plane, undistracted by phones, friends, and Finding Nemo. We race to get all our ground work done: packing, going through TSA, doing a last-minute work call, calling each other, then boarding the plane. Then, when we try to have that amazing work session in flight, we get nothing done. Even worse, after refreshing our email or reading the same studies over and over, we are too exhausted when we land to soldier on with the emails that have inevitably still piled up.
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A poem written by a Kansas City police officer:
Brown Eyes in Blues
By Chato Villalobos
I place this badge on my chest
Tuck a cross into my bullet proof vest
Say a quick prayer before checking my shoes
Perfectly shined of course, well pressed Blues
I hesitate, right before I look in the mirror
Crisis intervention training at its best with San Fran PD.
Saturday, June 11, 2016 01:17AM
SAN FRANCISCO (KGO) — San Francisco’s acting Police Chief Toney Chaplin vows to change the way the San Francisco Police Department uses deadly force. The I-Team has the first inside look at the chief’s strategy.
ba major challenge, considering police handle 3,500 crisis calls each month, often involving suicidal, mentally ill or armed subjects. The department gave us unprecedented access to take you from the classroom to the streets.
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So many leadership lessons to take away in this article: Leadership and the Janitor. A must read.
by James Moschgat, USAF (Ret.)
William “Bill” Crawford was an unimpressive figure, one you could easily overlook during a hectic day at the U.S. Air Force Academy. Mr. Crawford, as most of us referred to him back in the late 1970s, was our squadron janitor.
While we cadets busied ourselves preparing for academic exams, athletic events, Saturday morning parades, and room inspections — or never — ending leadership classes—Bill quietly moved about the squadron mopping and buffing floors, emptying trash cans, cleaning toilets, or just tidying up the mess 100 college-age kids can leave in a dormitory.
Sadly, and for many years, few of us gave him much notice, rendering little more than a passing nod or throwing a curt, “G’morning!” in his direction as we hurried off to our daily duties. Why? Perhaps it was because of the way he did his job — he always kept the squadron area spotlessly clean, even the toilets and showers gleamed. Frankly, he did his job so well, none of us had to notice or get involved. After all, cleaning toilets was his job, not ours.
Maybe it was his physical appearance that made him disappear into the background. Bill didn’t move very quickly, and in fact, you could say he even shuffled a bit, as if he suffered from some sort of injury. His gray hair and wrinkled face made him appear ancient to a group of young cadets. And his crooked smile, well, it looked a little funny. Face it, Bill was an old man working in a young person’s world. What did he have to offer us on a personal level?
Maybe it was Mr. Crawford’s personality that rendered him almost invisible to the young people around him. Bill was shy, almost painfully so. He seldom spoke to a cadet unless they addressed him first, and that didn’t happen very often. Our janitor always buried himself in his work, moving about with stooped shoulders, a quiet gait, and an averted gaze. If he noticed the hustle and bustle of cadet life around him, it was hard to tell. For whatever reason, Bill blended into the woodwork and became just another fixture around the squadron. The Academy, one of our nation’s premier leadership laboratories, kept us busy from dawn till dusk. And Mr. Crawford… well, he was just a janitor.
That changed one fall Saturday afternoon in 1976. I was reading a book about World War II and the tough Allied ground campaign in Italy, when I stumbled across an incredible story.
To continue reading: click here.
“The measure of your life is your impact on other people. Make it count.” A must read tribute to a fallen trooper…
A trooper, a letter, a legacy…
Earlier this month, California Highway Patrol Officer Nathan Taylor, while working an accident scene outside his patrol car on an icy stretch of mountain interstate, was fatally struck by an impatient motorist who lost control of her SUV when she swung out and accelerated to get around a stalled line of backed-up vehicles.
Taylor was 35, the father of three young sons, a Patrolman for six years, and by all accounts a remarkable officer in challenging times. Perhaps nothing captures his character, his policing style, and his legacy better than the following letter, received by his command staff:
“I knew Nathan for about 45 minutes. Two weeks ago I was hitchhiking at Donner Summit after a failed backcountry ski trip. Nathan’s cruiser rolled up and I thought, ‘Here we go, I’m about to get harassed by the cops.’
“Nathan rolled down the window and asked if I was all right. I leaned in and told him I was ok, and gave him my story. He asked if I wanted a ride, and I gladly accepted.
“In the next 45 minutes we talked, laughed, and shared stories. He told me about his wife and kids, his time working in San Jose, and how he loved working up in the mountains away from the city. When he dropped me off, he gave me his personal phone number and told me to call him at 6:30 if I hadn’t gotten a ride—he would pick me up after he got off work and drive me to family in Sacramento.
“I texted him later in the day to tell him that I had been picked up and to thank him. He texted back, ‘All’s well that ends well. Glad you made it.’
“Nathan Taylor was a good man. He was kind and giving, and he wanted to help. He challenged my prejudice against the police. He inspired me to be a better man.
“I have found myself thinking about how I could repay his kindness in the last couple of weeks. About bringing him a six-pack of beer, or writing the CHP to commend him. I thought about looking him up when I was in the area and offering to buy him dinner. I thought about becoming his friend.
“And then I read in the newspaper today that he had been killed on duty this weekend. And I was—I am— crushed. Buying him a six-pack or dinner seems so small in scope now. I am sharing this in an effort to broaden that scope, to repay him by inspiring others to be good.
“Be a good person. Be kind to strangers. Go out of your way to help them when you can. The time for this is now, not later. Later may never come. The measure of your life is your impact on other people. Make it count.
“You made a difference, Nathan. Thank you.”