“The Divide: NYPD & The Communities They Patrol."

Let's stop pointing fingers and solve this issue. Racism may never die, but empathy will never spread unless we all do something about it.

• We're more than 3 weeks into the new year now, yet we cannot put the tumultuous times of 2014 behind us because the same tension, anger, mourning and loss still resides in the air.

• The Divide between police officers and the mayor is evident, but the gap between the police and the communities in which they patrol are wider than ever.

• Something is missing. Let’s start with empathy. Do cops truly empathize with the deaths of "Michael Brown" and "Eric Garner?" Do people in the communities truly empathize with the heinous murders of the two police officers, "Rafael Ramos" and "Wenjian Lu"? 

• If the answer is "No" to both questions, then we have some serious work to do in this country.

• This post is not meant to poke fingers at any side, in fact this post aims to eliminate the word "side," completely. We’re on the same side here. We’re all human beings. 

• I read about the story of a black man in RIverdale. How he felt unwelcome in his community.

nyc-crime/riverdale-man-moving-racially-charged-vandalism-article-1.1746539

"Larry, 24, said he’s half-Portuguese and half-Arabic and felt “harassed” by constant questions and stares. “Part of it is because it’s a quiet neighborhood. But if you don’t look the part, they will question you.”

"His younger brother Lawrence Rowe, who with him Friday morning, said he also felt uneasy visiting Hart.

“I walked in the building, and the doorman looked right at me and said, ‘You’re in the wrong building. What are you doing here?’ ” recalled Rowe, 40, who said he had recently returned from serving in the Army in Germany."

• Now, let me transition from that to this brief anecdote. I met a police officer at a deli near my house earlier this year. He graduated from my rival high school two years ahead of me. I was on my way to a rehearsal for a film. I was wearing my camera bag. He noticed and started a conversation with me. He seemed like a decent guy and probably is, however the ugliness in his speech emerged when we spoke about the community we were in. He told me to be careful. Citing, the culture and people, as troublesome. Yes, "these people…yes these people…" the disdain for the people in this community was evident. His words cemented his actions, yes he painted them all over with the same brush. 

• We must give everyone a chance. That is the essence of common humanity. We should not judge. The man who executed the two cops boasted about it on Instagram. He knew what he was going to do. We cannot base his actions on all black people. 

• Police officers and the people of the community need to come together and speak to each other.  They need to hug it out and sing kumbaya or something…this has gone on long enough. How can police officers work in areas they loathe? How can police officers work a job in which they constantly fear for their lives? Why do police officers victimize the poor? Is it really to generate revenue? Are they being forced to do this? If so, why not quit? Why not revolt against the system instead of one man, the Mayor De Blasio, whose rhetoric had no bearing on the assassination of the two police officers in Brooklyn. http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/nyc-crime/cops-shot-brooklyn-sources-article-1.2051941

• Check out this take on the police officers by the satirist, "Bill Maher, on HBO's Real Time With Bill Maher," 

Bill Maher on NYPD

• We cannot baby police officers. They must provide solutions. GO out there and meet people. Talk to people, befriend the community, don’t make them your enemy.

• This is America. Our military has treated the citizens of foreign countries with more respect than us. We’re American citizens. Sure there are some bad apples, but very few.

• The crime rate has historically decreased in this country, yet the police continue to militarize. Why? americans-police-continue-to-militarize-despite-record-low-crime-rates/192029/

• Stop utilizing harmful rhetoric to alienate and demonize communities.

• People in the community need to condition and educate themselves on approaching police officers. Hold seminars. People should not fear the police.

• The police need to change their perception. People must educate their children on how to behave and treat those who risk their lives for them.

• The animosity must dissipate. 

"The fact that, we're all going to die someday, should be enough to make us love each other."

-Charles Bukowski

Below is a summary of how I felt in late December of 2014.

We're On The Same Side

My skin color makes me fear for my life...

I don't know why there are multiple sides...

Only pointing fingers here, pushing a distorted view...

I see all of the uniforms turning a blind eye...

The city renowned for apple pie is devoid of empathy.

I want you to stop choosing one side...
We're all alive and shouldn't die...
I want you to make peace, 
Forget the speech, please be innovative.
Why is it in movies we can get along?
Put the guns away and talk
Please listen before you shout

I want everyone to understand...
Black, White, Blue is all the same...
Both sides are wrong and need to make up...
Picking a side is too far gone

I understand your pain...
Yes, you, you, you and you and yes even you...


I can say this because I'm alive...
My parents fear for my life...
They lecture me, on how to act and speak 
Should I be confronted with big bad blue...
I know that "bad" is suggestive...
But that is the reality... we're all bad until we do good.

Semi-civilized human beings talking out their problems in a football stadium...

When we will reach enlightenment?

I so badly want to not worry...

Break the law, die, fight for your life, die, struggle, die, retaliate die, two wrongs, die, turn your back, die, silence, die, anger, die, animosity, die...

Until we all come together we're doomed...

Not in the apocalypse sense... of course... I mean in a truer sense...



Inside we're rotting away... Forget the whole "Walk a mile in my shoes."

I don't need you to go through that hassle...

Just understand one thing...

I'm a person and you are too...

I don't want to die...I desire peace of mind.

Shake my hand...look me in the eye...touch my skin...feel my life.

"Last Drags" Short Story By Greg Hernandez

 “Last Drags”

            Small circular puffs of smoke emerged from her mouth at a steady pace. She took the pipe again and inhaled deeply. A circle of friends all laughing and drinking around her made this woman the centerpiece of attraction. She closed her eyes as she exhaled through her nostrils. Pleasure covered her face like an exfoliating mask. The bartender placed a new coal for their hookah. The hookah pipe went around the circle of five, with beer, gossip, politics, intertwining the go around.

Their group was extremely sophisticated. All of them had their legs crossed and spoke softly. It made their conversations appear to be important. They stood out amongst the crowd of gluttonous spectators, fools, wannabes, jerk-offs, cunts, cock-teasers and low-lives. Now, this was a loud place. Things could get hectic in a hurry. Fights would start with the quickness of a match being lit. But not tonight, no tonight this beauty was in an impenetrable bubble. It protected her from the dirty and violent atmosphere that was the bar, called “Last Drags.” She was drinking “Delirium Tremens”, my Belgian Pale Ale. She wiped some of the bubble off her blue lips. She looked like a nympho. Those were the types; short jet black hair, fur coats to keep them warm, the tight dress to show off their physiques and the legs, my god those revealing legs! I bet her heels added 5 inches to her height. She looks like a bona fide freak, fucking dynamite under the sheets, I imagine.

            Carter sat the bar staring at it all. The air was intoxicating. A band at the far end was playing some psychedelic rock. The bartenders never had to pretend to look busy at this bar. They were always hurrying about, fixing drinks and hookahs. Sober people were exiting the bar and drunks were re-entering it. The bathroom lines extended out to the exit. People cheered and jeered and leered at the band’s style. Some guy called them “The Doors, 2.0.” Another guy called em “hacks.” Carter was at the center of it all, eye fucking this lady from a far.

            Carter tapped the bar with two fingers for another drink. “Blue Moon of course… a draft with the orange; fuck the bottle. Bottles, never do the drink justice can’t stand the fucks drinking mixed drinks or Bud Weiser. It’s a sin goddammit, a fucking sin. Besides, most of them lounge around yelling and belching about their shitty weeks, break ups, firings and fore closures. It’s the city that never sleeps because everyone is always bitching and moaning. I sip my Blue Moon and remain steady. I always drink it when I’m out on the hunt. I always drink Delirium after I strike out. I don’t plan on drinking it tonight though. No fucking way.

            Marty was yammering on about how he struck out with this Christian bitch last night. You don’t need to look at Marty to know it’s him talking. He’s always loud drunk and dramatic. Like a fucking actress in a musical. He bellows away three seats down about how he took some Christian bitch to a performance, dinner and a dancing.

“I WAS A PERFECT FUCKING GENTLEMAN TOO. I DIDN’T TOUCH HER NONE EITHER JUST HAD MY EYES GLUED TO THEM PERKY TITTIES OF HERS AND THAT MONSOON OF AN ASS MAH GAWD! “

“MARTY SHUT THE FUCK UP! “ Everyone always responded.

Carter sat and thought about Marty, half laughing and half exasperated, sitting sipping his Blue Moon watching it all. “My, oh my, there are a ton of weirdoes here tonight,” the bartender says. Carter lit his cigarette and nodded his head in agreement, eyes still fixed on the nympho.

“Listen I get off work at three, come by and do me after.” She says.

“Nah not tonight Ange,” Carter says.

 She fixes a drink and gives him a frown.

“Say, you know anything about the porno star over there? She’s giving me a goddamn boner. Strange I wanna make love to her y’know. Tell me she’ not exotic looking hah!”

“I never seen her before,” Ange says, looking down and pouring drinks.

“Well, then I guess she must be new in town then, interesting.

“No, just cuz it’s the first time seeing her doesn’t mean she’s new, for all you know, she’s been here a few times, just not when you’re here.”

“It’s fate!”

“No, more like coincidence.

“Fucking destiny, I’m telling you!”

 “She looks bald under that wig.”

“WATCH YOUR FUCKING MOUTH, YOU CUNT!”

Ange gave him a measuring look and took care of orders down on the opposite end of the bar, fingers, fists, crisp dollar bills, bracelets to show proof of age, all thumping and rolling around the bar. Everybody is in on the action tonight. People want to have a good time drinks and hookah equals a hook up Ange wants me, Marty wants the Christian bitch and I want the hot little nympho.

Carter eyes cast a light on the beautiful nympho. Her blue lips match the blue veins on his penis both are thick. He observes her, the way she speaks how she throws her head back and laughs at a comment. Her large smile accentuates her beauty. She is genuine. Her female friend gets up to join the bathroom line. The seat next to her is empty now. It’s time.

Carter finishes his drink, belches wipes his mouth, takes a final drag of his cigarette and put it out. He stares at his prey. She looks young. Maybe she just finished up at the university. It’s the end of spring. I bet money she’s a philosophy major. Bet she’d have a lot to say after sex. Her tight skirt barely contains those muscular thighs. He begins to walk toward her when Marty claps his hand on his shoulder and yells, “TYLER STOP STARING AT THAT GIRL’S SNATCH! YOU FUCKING PERVERT!”

“ Marty get off me ya filthy bastard. It’s not my fault she likes to show off her fat cat.”

“HAHA FAT CAT! THAT’S MY FAVORITE BAR! OH CARTER! I DIDN’T KNOW IT WAS YOU!”

“Marty you’re disrupting my concentration.”

“I STRUCK OUT LAST NIGHT!
 “Yeah I heard Marty. We all heard… You’re louder than the band. I’m surprised that you haven’t been thrown out yet. People are giving you the death stare. Lay off of me before you get me thrown out with ya.”

“I’M SORRY! I  NEED TO GET MY DICK WET!!! ARE YAH GONNA BANG ANGE TONIGHT?”

“Nah you can have her…”
“YES! THANK YOU CASANOVA!”

Marty stumbled toward the end of the bar squeezing his way past the multitudes of people who despised him. Ange saw him coming the whole time. She was a masterful multitasker. Carter knew she had been watching their conversation. Her knowing eyes already full of fury at his departure and Marty’s approach. Marty nudged a man out of his way and speared his head over the side of the bar like dolphin shooting up out of the water. “HI ANGELA BABY! WHAT TIME YA GETTING OFF?”

Carter made his way toward Blue Lips. The band finished their song. People clapped. Girls and guys whistled and snapped their fingers. Carter complimented her outfit. She smiled. It was fate. She liked him. “About time you came over.” He laughed at her joke. He was destined to get lucky tonight. At the far end of the bar the sound of thunder erupted as Marty hit the floor holding his face. Ange yelled down to him, “ASSHOLE! DON’T EVER TOUCH ME AGAIN!” Uproar and applause shot through the bar when Marty was thrown out by two bouncers.

Marty lay on the side walk for a few minutes not knowing how he ended up outside. His eyes fluttered as he caught a glimpse of the bar, “Last Drags.” It was 3 am. Time for everyone to head home now, the weekend was over. Marty saw the people stumble out of the bars all loud laughing, yelling, parading, falling, fighting, arguing, kissing, grabbing, fondling, running for a cab, running for the last bus back to campus, running for a train, running, just running.

Marty finally saw Carter and blue lips amble out of the bar. They sauntered down the street holding hands. Marty yelled to his friend one last time. “CARTER WHAT’S HER NAME?” Carter and blue lips stopped. He turned his head toward her and whispered in her ear. She shook her head at him and smiled. He smiled back and kissed her lightly on those blue lips. “MONA” he yelled back and they continued on. Marty held his thumb up high and shouted, “GOOD JOB, GOOD JOB SIR!!”