It’s too bad Governor McCrory and state lawmakers aren’t listening to some smart folks in Fayetteville when it comes to the issue of police body cameras and the broader question of how to build trust between law enforcement and communities of color.
First there’s Fayetteville police chief Harold Medlock (pictured at left), who continues to set an example for how law enforcement leaders should lead on these matters. This is from a story featured on WRAL.com last night:
“Medlock inherited an agency plagued by accusations of racial profiling when he took charge of the Fayetteville Police Department a little more than three years ago. He and his staff have worked hard since then to improve community relations, including asking the U.S. Department of Justice for input on how the police department could operate better. The federal agency made dozens of suggestions in December but noted that the racial disparity in police traffic stops is declining and commended efforts to build a stronger relationship with Fayetteville residents.
The chief also has been a vocal advocate for publicly releasing footage from police body cameras and dashboard cameras, although a new state law restricts access to such video to people depicting in it – and then only if a police chief or sheriff agrees.
Medlock said one of the keys to bridge the gap between police and the community is to change the way young people look at police. U.S. Attorney General Loretta Lynch met with the department’s Youth Advisory Council during a May visit to Fayetteville to study its community policing program.”
To learn more about Medlock and his progressive, but no-nonsense views on policing, check out this video from last fall in which the chief headlined an NC Policy Watch Crucial Conversation luncheon.
Medlock isn’t the only source of common sense on these matters, however. This morning’s lead editorial in the Fayetteville Observer criticizing the state’s new pro-secrecy law on police camera footage is an excellent contribution to the discussion as well. As the author’s rightfully point out:
“We learned in April why videos shot by passersby shouldn’t be used as defining evidence of what happened when the police and a civilian have a violent encounter. We learned it when someone with a cellphone recorded an incident in which it appeared Hope Mills police officers beat a handcuffed man they had taken into custody. The suspect was African-American. The cops were white. And people in the community were on edge.
Fortunately, the Police Department did a thorough investigation and then it made all of its evidence public, including video from a camera in a police cruiser and one attached to a police officer.
Those recordings told a different story: that the suspect was kicking at the police and trying to get out of the cruiser, and that they were forcing him back into the cruiser and shutting the doors to keep him there. There was no brutality, just cops doing their difficult and dangerous jobs.
We thought at the time that this is exactly why police videos should be public record, available after incidents like this to settle any questions about what happened.
We were hopeful that the General Assembly would produce legislation to make that happen. Our lawmakers failed.
A new law, just signed by Gov. Pat McCrory, is a slight improvement, in that it no longer hides police videos behind the screen of officers’ private personnel records. But it also allows police to hide the video anyway, if they choose. People in the video can ask to see it, but the police can deny permission. Their only recourse is a court order.
The law specifically states that police videos aren’t a public record. McCrory said the law “ensures transparency.” That’s either a cynical joke or he’s confused.
We hope police video will tell us more about what happened in Minnesota and Louisiana. We need to know, and understand. But if a similar event happens here, the law may bar us from ever knowing the truth. The General Assembly still has a lot of work to do on this issue.”