I’m not brave enough to walk up to a stranger’s vehicle with only the intention of giving the driver a verbal warning about a broken tail light for their safety and the safety of those around them. Out of fear if being shot or attacked by the jacked-up meth mouth who stole the car.
I’m not brave enough to knock on a stranger’s door and tell them their child was killed while crossing a street and one of them must come with me to the morgue and identify a small mangled corpse.
I’m not brave enough to calmly arrest a man who just beat the living crap out of his wife; only have him go back home a few days later to beat the living crap out of her again.
I’m not brave enough to get to know smart and talented youth, who will never get to meet their true potential because those around tell them they can’t simply because of who they are or where they live.
I’m not brave enough to bite my tongue when people who’ve never fired a handgun at a paper target under ideal controlled condition, let allow in a dark alley at a moving target that is trying to kill you, say “why don’t they just shoot’em in the leg?”
I’m not brave enough to stand on a road during severe weather to keep traffic away from downed live power lines for fear for being hit by a driver who’s too busy texting to see where they are going.
I’m not brave enough to have a profession in which, in no fault of my own, I may be forced to decide in a fraction of a second whether to take a human life or not. If I choose incorrectly I could die. Even if I choose correctly, I have to live the rest of my life knowing I took someone else’s. I would also be judged by people who only care about two details of the incident: what race am I, and what race was the person I shot.
Nope. I’m not brave enough to be a cop.