Little Black Band

I knew as soon as I decided to do it, that I was going to get an earful-- all because of a little, one-inch black elastic band. Funny how something some small can cause so many things to change.

At work, we will often don a black “mourning band” on our badges when a fellow law enforcement officer is lost. This is a departmental issuance, and not some individualistic crusade. It seems easy enough to do, but I assure you, in a bureaucracy, nothing can ever be simple.

First they have to decide if they want to “honor” the person who has passed away. Then, if they are worthy of a little black band, they have to decide how long they should be worn. A day? A week? A month? It all depends on the circumstances surrounding the death AND the deceased’s connection with the department.

After all that is decided, then a memorandum is handed out stating precisely how long the little black band must be worn. This is non-negotiable. For the length of time stated on that memo, that little black band is part of the official duty uniform. Technically, failure to wear it can result in disciplinary action due to a violation as set forth in our Policy and Procedure.

So you see, a civilian only sees a little black band around the badge. They are spared the memo reading in the pre-shift briefing. Lucky them.

I kind of went off the reservation this weekend. I made a promise to someone that I would wear that little black band in remembrance of a fallen officer, and to them, a lost loved one. But if I was going to do it, I was going to have to be willing to fight for it—no matter what.

As I made the decision to wear it, I also made the decision that I would not take it off for any reason. Not even to save my job. I left the house Friday night with the mindset that I have to be willing to stand up for what I believe, at all costs. This is where I usually get the eye rolling.

I had not been there a minute, literally, before I started hearing about it. I thought that it might take some time to notice, but no, apparently it beckons for attention. Of course, the sergeant-wannabe was the first one to raise issue with it, informing me that I am “out of uniform” by wearing it. That just fueled the curiosity, and at that time, I was defensive and retorted with hostility.

I was nearly begging for it to become a bigger issue. In my head, I was daring someone to stand up against me. Because one of the few things I am good at is being able speak passionately, coherently, and stoically, in the face of opposition. I was more than willing to be a martyr that night. People have lost their jobs in far less noble ways than the heinous act of honoring the life of another human being.

My defiance in the briefing room seemed to have set the tone and I wasn’t really bothered by anyone else about it. When people came up to me, or called me and asked about it, I told them the reason. I think they could tell by the way I spoke that this was one issue that they didn’t want to fight me on.

Wise decision.

Now it is Sunday morning and I have done what I promised. I know it doesn’t mean much, but it means something to me. Because I know that was willing to suffer in the name of someone else. I suppose people will say that that isn’t the way to honor someone, but that is the only way I know. Sacrifice, after all, is the way I am able to pay my respects.

That little black band was not coming off my badge this weekend. Even if that meant I was no longer able to wear my badge.

Sometimes—you have to be willing to stand up for what you believe in.

At all costs.