I can still remember the sensation of that plastic police badge on my chest and how my blue costume dragged downwards from my chest to way below my knees. When this happened, I was only five years old. The holiday known as Halloween was being celebrated that day. I was certain, because of how children can be, that one day I would protect people as a cop.
Naturally, people didn’t view me with respect at the time. Aunt Cici teased happily, “I love how cute that is. Soon, her dreams will shift once more and she’ll long to be a princess next year. Still, I stayed firm in my decision. Not after the girls had left behind their plastic handcuffs for glittery crowns instead. Even as I grew up and some boys in high school made fun of me for being a “softie” about it.
Graveyard shifts at a deserted restaurant were how I paid for school to become a cop. Other nights, I was so tired I struggled to walk, shoes wet from the icy sidewalks and my fingers uncontrollably shivering because of refilling several cups. I would see that Halloween badge every day on my mirror and let it remind me why I didn’t give up.
The first single time I was in charge of stopping a vehicle, my heartbeat was so loud I thought for sure the driver would notice. However, I did manage to do it. The most challenging instances were responding to calls for domestic violence and people who had taken substances. Once, going through a hostage situation made me forget everything and still makes me shiver and wake up drenched in cold sweat these days. However, I went on. I always continued to move forward.
Just recently, I was promoted to sergeant. There was a little box sitting on my desk when I went to my new office. Inside? That very same Halloween badge—showing its age and bends, butt nevertheless remaining together. The old bicycle was kept by my dad during all these years.
I cried while holding my diploma not out of joy, but from a deep sense in my heart, going back to my childhood, that I would succeed one day.
Now, my neighbors’ daughters ask to get their photo with me whenever I’m wearing a police uniform.
Even so, there’s something I’ve not shared with anyone. Not even my own partner knows this about me.
Before my final assessment at the Academy, I went through the study guide I had made. I felt like I was about to give up.
I was wrapping up a very long and demanding twelve-hour day at the diner. Someone who had been drinking told me off over the ‘wrong’ ketchup and I was starting to feel my feet really hurt. After I got home and removed my socks, I saw that my toes were bleeding.
The final part of the test took place at 6:00 a.m. in the morning. I hadn’t had even a second of sleep for hours.
I looked at the small badge hanging from the mirror with a torn bit of tape and something inside me broke.
I called my mom hoping to reach her. No answer.
Therefore, I reached out to my old high school friend, Trina, by texting her. Her response was very brief and short.
You have come this far, so it’s not time to quit just yet.
Running low on sleep, I couldn’t help but rely only on caffeine and strong willpower to reach that test. I passed. It was very close, but I still managed to pass the exam.
After everything, I kept experiencing self-doubt for a long period of time.
Two years early in my career, there was a case that almost caused me to quit.
Someone reported that a little boy had gone missing. He was a Lebanese student named Rami. The years went by and at the age of ten. She waited so long because her mother was an illegal immigrant, who dreaded the police and never wanted to talk to them. He had already gone missing for a full six hours by that time.
I tried my best to get everyone to ask their friends or colleagues for help. We looked throughout over half of the county for the missing man. Eventually, we came across him in an abandoned greenhouse, where he was shivering and scared; he quickly ran to me for help. He clutched me so hard because he was afraid if he took his grip off, he’d disappear again.
However, the department? They did not include me in the press release. Pointed the blame at another person. Said that the results were achieved by working with others.
That moment caused a lot of pain for us. After that, I took the badge off the mirror in my room.