The Specter of DPS
I attended the on-campus protests this past week, with the intention of expressing my support for the Black Lives Matter movement. As with all of these protests, that was the intention for the vast majority of the people there. Standing together, arm in arm (metaphorically; we’re still in quarantine, people) to make our voices heard against injustice. The last thing I expected when I got to campus to march was to have my mind changed, but alas, that’s exactly what happened.
After one block of campus, the march stopped in front of a podium and, one by one, black voices from SC’s community made their voices heard over the speaker system. They appealed for police reform. They appealed for tolerance. They appealed for an acceptance that had been promised but had never come. These concepts were not new to me; I’d had plenty of time in the lead-up to the protests to consider these issues and decide wholeheartedly that my passions lined up with those of the speakers. It’s safe to say that no one there was entirely surprised by what was being said. Until the topic turned to DPS.
Throughout my entire college career, DPS has been a welcome presence. As is the case for the majority of students, I frequently find myself walking around the neighborhood in the dead of night. I don’t come from a particularly great area in London, so I’m used to looking out for myself, but even still, knowing that there are constant DPS patrols and officers at every corner has been a balm. I never feel completely unsafe around here. Of course, I should have considered that this experience was not universal, but for whatever reason that had never even crossed my mind. Until the speakers brought it up.
For black students, DPS is a menace, looming in the darkness to terrify them. I can hardly imagine how nerve-wracking it would be to walk through campus at night, knowing that every patrol, every officer who sees me might perceive me as a threat. To attend a party west of Vermont and not be 100 percent certain I might make it back. That, to me, highlighted my privilege in a way I never imagined. Of course, I know about racial profiling and of course, I know about the injustices against people of color at the hands of police departments. But those are far-off, easy-to-understand horrors. The police are threatening to some extent, no matter who you are. It took the reversal of the pure comfort DPS had afforded me to realise just how different my USC experience has been to those who are so close to me.
