Sample Essays from Students

Paper 6 -- Sociology: Ethnographic Field Research, using APA (American Psychological Association) name and year system [Ed. note: Names and places in this paper have been changed to assure confidentiality.]

While arranging the ride-along, my observations of the Glendale Police Department's young desk officers reinforced the stereotypical cop image. On the two occasions I interacted with them, both were reading the archetypal Joseph Wambaugh-style novel: Helter Skelter and Code Blue -- Officer Needs Assistance. The relevance of this fact bears on the notion of a police mind-set -- a subculture into which these young men were being socialized. The popular literature in which these men were immersed represented, to me, a narrowing of the civil axis of orientation. It was as if they bought the crime-fighting McGarrett paradigm, "Book ’em, Dano."

Following my arrival at the station Wednesday evening, I was subjected to the standard station tour. (This only after my ride-along patrolman had dictated an arrest report to a female dispatcher trainee.) Corinne, the secretarial dispatcher, turned out to be my escort. (According to G.P.D. regulations, female ride-alongs cannot ride with a lone patrolman.) She provided me with detailed information about the communication department, along with the current "roll call" gossip. Corinne seemed quite sympathetic toward the officers and possessed the kind of information (privileged) about individual cops and routine procedures reminiscent of a Corleone "family member."

Like the desk officers, she too seemed to have absorbed and integrated herself into the police subculture. She went out after work to drink with her fellow employees, joked with other officers, knew their intimate life histories, understood them as men who bore the crime-fighting responsibility on their shoulders. Further research should be conducted on dispatchers as components of the police force. As I learned, they too possess discretionary decision-making power. Their particularized knowledge determines which units, if any, respond to a specific call, which calls are "bullshit," "crap" calls that become routine and do not demand action, and which officers get "excited" when calling for an assist or chasing down a suspect.

Interviewing my companion officer, John Davis, provided a rich background from which to analyze his actions and discretionary decision-making patterns (the foreground). For officer Davis, 1987 marked his seventh year on the Glendale police force. In this span of time, he had worked as an observer in the G. P. D. helicopter, at the K-9 desk, in the records department, in a unit equivalent to LAPD's Crash unit, as an FTO, and as a patrolman. Prior to this, 1978?1979, he had served as a reserve officer. The more prototypical variable surfaces in his 1975?1976 experience as a weapons specialist in the Marine's military police. This information fit in well with the stereotypical cop image, conservative, authoritarian, aggressive, out to get red, pinko, commie faggots. Adding further to the composite that revealed this officer's assimilation into the force was his new assignment. In a week's time, he was to join the narcotics bureau as an undercover investigator.

Additional biographical data enriched my patrolman portrait. It seems that Davis felt his sense of prejudice had increased since he joined the force. Various racial and ethnic references revealed this to me: (speaking to Gary, from the K-9 Unit), "Hey, dude, if you're going down to south-central L.A. [a predominantly black area], you should take an extra gun"; (verbal exchange with a fellow officer stopped at a traffic signal), "Hey, Bob, let's go to La Palma, to eat some tortillas and drink some beer" (spoken with a heavy Spanish accent). Davis revealed a more interesting bit of data concerning personal changes resulting from police duty. He mentioned that he now enjoyed his solitude, liked to be alone more; continually being asked for advice and solving other people's problems had made him tired of being around others. He confessed having less patience with "phony" individuals. These themes bring to mind Skolnick's "working personality" (1967). Just as he considered the preoccupation with danger an important element of the police officer's "working personality," this counselor/mediator role also takes its toll on patrolmen. Having to play referee in domestic quarrels, neighbor disputes, and the like can create a burdensome tax on a city employee. I would expect to see ramifications, perhaps even negative consequences, in his interpersonal contacts and communications with friends/spouse/family as well as with "citizens." He might strive toward greater isolation?possibly resulting in alienation from his social support system.

Van Maanen's analysis of the kind of people drawn to police work (1973) furnished data I could employ to examine officer Davis. His assertion that police work seems to attract local, family-oriented, working-class whites was confirmed. John Davis was born and raised in Glendale, has two children (8 and 4) by his wife of ten years and is definitely white.

Van Maanen's claims (a) that the out-of-door and presumably adventurous qualities of police work strongly influence and attract recruits to the job, and (b) that the unexpected elements of working patrol provide self-esteem and stimulation for officers (1973) are both supported by Davis's comments. He cited both job variety and the spontaneous nature of police work as positive features. Accordingly, the part of the job Davis considered most difficult was "putting up with the boredom and shit that gets to be routine." Van Maanen quoted a Union City patrolman, with 10 years experience, and the similarities in perspective stand out clearly: "Most of the time being a cop is the dullest job in the world. But what I like about the job, and I guess it's what keeps me going, is that you never know what's gonna happen out there" (p. 412).

In his work, City Police (1973), Rubinstein states that a policeman does not need a set of rules to know when he is exceeding what is allowed. But few men who exceed their rights ever do so without a feeling of justification: what they do is somehow the right thing to do even though it must be concealed. John's definition of excessive force nicely paralleled the latter: "A cop uses force to quell a disturbance; anything beyond that is excessive force. When a guy [suspect] is down and out, that's it. Although it's unfortunate, we are human beings and it's sometimes hard to cut off our emotions." Rubinstein continues by postulating that the police subculture tolerates the excessive use of force; in sum, the police enforce their own notions of punishment/wrongdoing. Here, again, Davis's anecdotes confirm that the police have standards that dictate how and when to use force, and they share a common definition of brutality or violence.

John described Terry Poe as a heavy man, 6'2", 260 pounds. Poe answered a call summoning him to the aid of a child who had ceased breathing. When he arrived, the scene he encountered caused him instinctively to employ his discretionary decision-making power. The result: four cops and one sergeant had to pull Terry off the boy's father. Apparently, the third-degree burns covering the child's legs just below his knees and the testicles and scrotum burned beyond recognition invoked Poe's wrath. Obviously, this officer misused force when he surpassed it as an instrumental means to gain control and resorted to it for his personal ends. Davis related a similar account in the case of the missing child who was found dead in a suitcase. The father called the police, claiming the youth had walked off while he slept. The police spent the next 24 hours scouring the area for the child; dogs were brought in, and 80 academy recruits joined the search. Finally, the parent confessed the child was in a suitcase. He had died of suffocation with broken ribs that punctured his lung and spleen. Like Poe, Davis says he felt sheer hate when he saw the suspect booked; he could have killed him: "I have no qualms about using excessive force on someone who hurts children." In both instances, the public shared the moral outrage and indignation of these men. (I doubt a parental death [child abuser] would ever be investigated.) Unfortunately, the abuse of less sensational, everyday suspects was not brought up, nor was I witness to a breach of authority. Then again, I didn't expect an officer to make incriminating comments about his fellow cops to their detriment.

Finally in the police car with Corinne and Davis, I notice no cage, polyglass plate, or screen separating us. Fittingly, the sergeant's vehicle used for ride-alongs is devoid of such trappings. We will not transport any suspects (police equivalent=prisoners), since we'll be a backup unit. (I still don't know if that's the reason the shotgun in the car was stuck in its brace.)

Soon after leaving the G.P.D. parking structure, we stop at a traffic light, only to witness a Chevy truck speed through the intersection. We follow it a full two blocks, with lights and siren, until the driver pulls over. John gets out of the car, as does a passenger in the vehicle. Immediately, Davis commands him to get back inside. He approaches the truck and the driver opens the door. John stands on the driver's side, facing him. Once the two step over by the police car, he writes Mr. Adams a ticket for not having his vehicle properly registered. After questioning Davis, I learn of this man's prior arrest and their subsequent working relationship. According to Davis, he failed to write Adams a speeding ticket because he couldn't clock his speed. He expressed his dislike for appearing in court -- especially being badgered on the witness stand by those "bastard" attorneys. In addition, he felt in this case a talk would be more beneficial than a ticket. I might add that Mr. Adams's less-than-cautious manner of approaching the car, he chalked it up to overconfidence from working the area so long. To my surprise, he indicated that once he stopped a car he knew what he was going to do before he got out. Critical variables were the time of day, traffic conditions, manner of driving, and area. Since he had seen a three-year-old crushed to death during his first year, any vehicle registering 45 mph or more in a residential area got a ticket as a matter of principle This attitude shows how an officer's personal experiences, apart from the criminal code bear significantly on his decisions. In regard to traffic violators, the police have an alternate title for the "asshole" (one who flagrantly and inexcusably disregards police sentiments). This is a person who fails the attitude test. He is also known as a sidewalk lawyer, one who has a comeback for the cop's every remark. This guy is sure to get a ticket" he simply knocks over the officer's sense of authority. The asshole, according to John, is to be differentiated from the nervous driver who suffers from "diarrhea of the mouth." "Cops are human. They've heard every excuse; they'll make an allowance for this type of person," John grinned.

At 8:25, we're summoned to Riverview and Plante on a traffic-assist call. We're to reroute traffic. Arriving on the scene, we join a fire unit, paramedics, and another squad car. It seems a car, coming around a corner too fast, skidded on loose gravel and completely overturned. The female passenger, who escaped unscathed, sits in the front of the ambulance. The driver lies on a wooden stretcher with a neck brace and an I.V. Ben, a fellow officer, takes a police report and retrieves a bottle of whiskey from the overturned car. During this time, John has been setting up cones and flares, directing traffic to avoid further complications.

Leaving the scene, we drive through a "cholo" neighborhood, and the conversation turns to "gang bangers." John dislikes them on account of the fact they kill each other over territory or what so-and-so said to someone else's girlfriend. Although the gang members and Davis have a communication system by which they don't bullshit each other, he calls them "a bunch of pussies." It seems a teenage cholo he'd known for a few years, a good kid, got stabbed at a local park; another kid was killed by a guy who split (the G.P.D. doesn't know where he is and doesn't care); and another 6'4", 240-pound "ignorant" gang banger hurts people because "he gets a kick out of it."

By 9:15 we're called into active duty, so we pull away from the curb where we had stopped to converse. This time some transients are sleeping on the roof of the Addison Hotel, where they don't belong. The hotel is notorious for transients and winos who crash in its cheap rooms. Through this knowledge, Davis and the officer he's backing up walk into the building, flashlights in hand, with a pretty accurate idea of what they'll encounter. They take the names of the transients, tell them to be on their way, and wrap up the call. In keeping with his order maintenance role, John informs me that had those transients been habitual offenders, he would have pressed the landlord to sign a complaint form. This way he could have charged the men with public drunkenness and taken them to crash in the drunk tank -- thereby avoiding more problems.

Nearby, Davis detained two young men and a woman in the A & A Liquor store's parking lot. He said they appeared to be fighting and he wanted to check it out. Also, this A & A Liquor store had been robbed in the past, and closing time was drawing near. Again, he stated that "he knew who should be where," and this motto helped orient him to possible trouble situations. This orientation bespeaks the patrolman's concern with possible danger situations. He has to be aware of trouble before it starts because after, intervention may come too late, and greater danger may result.

A short time later we pulled up a driveway to some apartments where we'd been called by a tenant. Darlene, a petite 19-year-old, met the cops and proceeded to rattle off complaints about her roommate. She claimed Cheryl was "loony tunes, just out from a mental hospital, had threatened to hit her, and now wouldn't move out." The apartment belonged to Darlene's boyfriend, and Cheryl was a temporary tenant paying on a monthly basis. Darlene decided she'd had enough of Cheryl and called the cops. John asked her what she wanted them to do (complainant preference), and she said stand by so she could reiterate the living arrangement to Cheryl. Actually, she wanted the cops somehow to force Cheryl to leave. Their response was to try to calm the two parties (mediate). They spoke to each woman individually and advised them, "Listen, kick back a second. Since you can't stand the sight of each other, arrange your schedules accordingly; don't give each other a hard time. We don't want to come back; we won't be so nice next time. "I suppose the threat of an unpleasant return visit was the only tool they could employ to deter hostility. The police had no jurisdiction in this civil matter; their hands were tied. They knew neither party was thinking too rationally. All they could do was offer suggestions, give advice. During the exchange between John and Darlene, Davis tolerated some of her interruptions, but when her outrage dominated the conversation and his authority was temporarily ignored, he quickly regained control. The insistence in his voice was an unmistakable sign. From my perspective, I saw a cop whose efforts were failing and whose patience was steadily growing thin. Once outside the residence, John commented, "You know, what that chick needs is one between the chops."

Once out of that frying pan, we drove a few blocks in answer to a suspicious vehicle call. Apparently, an occupied VW bug had looked peculiar to some neighbors, who, in John's words, "called the boys in blue." Davis and a fellow officer cautiously approached the car and questioned the suspects. Suddenly, I found John opening the door nearest me and escorting a man into the police car. At first, I thought he was a suspect from the Bug. (I could certainly smell the alcohol fumes emanating from his person.) But then John pulled away from the curb and headed north toward an intersection. Evidently, the man next to me was a reserve officer who thought there was a burglary in progress at a vacationing neighbor's home. Within minutes, G.P.D. cars appeared on the scene; we were in the midst of a field emergency! Vehicles leaving the area were stopped to check for lookouts or accomplices. The police helicopter appeared, immediately lighting the entire residence as it hovered overhead. In the midst of this excitement, poor John had been unable to pry the shotgun from its brace. It reminded me of an episode from the Keystone Cops. As it turned out, three men had been waiting near this home for a fourth companion, with no malicious intent. (The reserve officer's request had taken precedence over the suspicious vehicle. John did not hesitate to follow his directions" presumably his status as a reserve signaled trustworthiness and competence.)

We headed for Penny's to have dinner at 10:30. This was, without a doubt, the police counterpart to Arnold's (from TV's Happy Days). Three off-duty officers were having dinner when we entered, and a few more stopped by later to grab a bite to eat. Although John knew the waitress on a first-name basis, he got a check for dinner and paid the cashier like any other customer. I don't expect gratuities were an issue here, but then again, I had no chance to inspect the bill as we all had separate checks.

As he resumed his shift, Davis drove out of his way to show me the only gay establishment in Glendale. Tucked inconspicuously away on the fringes of Glendale was Snake Eyes, a gay bar. Unlike most gay hangouts, this place had no lights, bright signs, open doors, or monstrous motorcycles parked nearby. It seemed as incongruous in this neighborhood as a butcher shop in Hindu New Delhi. Davis had no misgivings about condemning gays -- their lifestyle, behavior, or sexual habits. The way he described Snake eyes, one would think they gave away a free can of Crisco with every drink. (His actual comment was that they had it "stocked by the shelffuls.") He pointed out an innocent-looking man stepping out from the bar as if he should have been branded. His stated opinions disclosed an obviously conservative, religiously based stance against homosexuality. This slant resulted in discriminatory practices against the bar's clientele. He mentioned writing tickets for any vehicles parked within 15 feet of a fire hydrant in front of the bar; a violation he normally would not have bothered with became a means of harassment. His discretionary decision-making power became a means of stating a personal dislike for a certain group of people.

At the close of my adventure as a G.P.D. ride-along, we checked a vacant building where a burglar alarm had been set off. We initiated this action without a dispatcher's request since it had gone off while we patrolled a nearby street. Failing to discover signs of foul play, we headed back toward the station. On the way back, Davis point out an area known for hypes (heroine addicts) and frequent burglaries (to support $150-a-day habits.) I was reminded of Bittner's particularized knowledge (1967). In Glendale, similarly as on Skid Row, the cops' grasp and control were precisely commensurate with the extent to which they had acquired "a rich body of concrete knowledge about people" (p. 714) and places in the area. They both possessed an immensely detailed factual knowledge of their beats, enabling them to perform their jobs more efficiently and with fewer mistakes.

I witnessed several instances when John Davis exercised his discretionary decision-making powers. I also confirmed the reality of many topics covered in course lectures and in readings. One further point I would like to make concerns the cop as a person, a representative of a social control agency. Theoretically, I now understand, much more precisely and accurately, what he does, how he comes to decide on a particular course of action, his relation to the organization in which he operates. Pragmatically, I have seen him "demasked," "disrobed of his priestly vestments." My cynical, academic viewpoint has changed. I now see the police from a clearer perspective. The role and the role player have been disentangled to allow for a truer analysis and understanding.

Bittner, E. (1967). The Police on skid-row: a study of peace keeping. American Sociological Review, 32, 699?715.

Rubinstein, J. (1973). City Police. New York: Farrar, Straus, Giroux.

Skolnick, J. H. (1967). The narcotics enforcement pattern. In Justice without Trial. New York: Wiley.

Van Maanen, A. (1973). Observations on the making of policemen. Human Organization, 32(4), 407-418.