Can harassment be a form of police brutality? Should we allow people who have power to abuse it, under the guise that it’s
Quite recently, the Toronto PD wanted to investigate a claim that my current college has made against me, that has already been proven to be unfounded. The mere fact that the language I used was “provocative” definitely not enough to remove me from the school and further threaten me with a suspension, issuing a “trespass” that prohibited me from doing my work on any campus.
I was cleared, allowed back to class and I thought this had ended. Yet, to my surprise, a constable from the Toronto Police department had appeared at my parents house, where I currently live, with a few questions they had for me. They were tipped that Centennial College was “concerned” about me after reading some of the articles I had written. After refusing to go to my home and talk to them, because they didn’t contact me, I told my mother who had called me complaining about the situation that had risen, I instructed her that I would not be coming home right away, and that if they wanted to talk to me that they can call me directly. After which I hung up, rather angrily, and went back to my beer.
My week has been rather hectic, I spent 30+ hours in two days doing work and trying to catch up on the work that I missed, with the goal that I would spend my upcoming engagement week doing stuff like photography, film watching and attending rock shows at some very cool venues; doing more of what I love, night photography. However, there was way too much to do and I failed at reaching one of my goals; a common occurrence. Lugging a camera, and associated gear like the lens, I left school yesterday, feeling quite relaxed, I just had a meeting that went really well, I have a Nikon DLSR with 3 lens, including a wide angle and a telephoto; however, the College was there to ruin my weekend it seems. After hung-up the call from my mother, I went back to enjoy my beer and talk with an old friend. Yet the police had the audacity to sit in their cruiser (or unmarked civilian car, I wan’t there; I don’t know) and wait for me to get home.
I got another call later from my mother, who is probably pushing 60 (is that sad that I don’t even know?) that the police would like to talk to me. I am freaking out right now, because I know that if the police wanted to talk to me, they would call me themselves. However, I am supposing she felt bad and agreed to phone me to talk, if I am free I always pick a call from someone I know, especially my parents.
Officer had got on the phone, and stated stuff that I was not in trouble or being charged with anything; after which, he began to list off specific portions of articles or comments I had written in the past, which I know I did, but then said that I had written them in the last few weeks, which I am confident that I have not written any such articles. Then, when I asked him to define the articles in question, he drew a blank, said that he doesn’t have the exact titles and where in the article they belong to. This week I have written a lot and to remember exactly what, where and when I wrote these words has, in fact, slipped away from me. I do write in a way that is easily for someone of an opposing opinion, to paint a elaborate picture to pin to my name. It’s not right, and I shouldn’t have to accept this level of scrutiny and abuse based off of hot air, an individual misconstruing my words and manipulation.
No wonder police never find the shooters before they commit mass murders.
The idea that as a writer, you have the power to control individual actions is ridiculous. Then we have to look at people that have had that power, politicians, that have misused their influence. At the same time, you have to actually read what they are saying, to say that someone as the likes of Hitler is analogous with my written is preposterous; you can clearly see his intent. Like The Globe and Mail making sure that people knew that Andrew Scheer, the Conservative party leader, publicly stated that he was against abortion, in a political policy overview geared to inform Canadians about their policies. As if they aren’t trying to sway the uninformed based on morality.
After I had finished the very uneventful phone call, where I refused to repeat information over and over (after all I just spent a week of an investigation, and a week of non-stop work (elections I tell you, right?) I didn’t want to aggravate the ongoing investigation. Disguising your investigation that I am not in trouble and that I am not being judged, then having you, a police officer, show up to my parents house and waiting for me to return home, means that someone has already judged me.
Thumbs Down Centennial College.
Why is it so hard to accept that, one of their departments messed up? The mention of the word Incel, no matter the context, is enough to scrutinize and infringe on someone’s life now? We’ll see what my lawyer will say about that. I was going home, because I was worried about my mother, seeing how my father crumbles when any authority figure shows up at the door asking about me. The first time, the police caught me at home.
As I was taking the TTC, there was a man and a woman who were travelling together I suppose. The woman was being badgered by this man, he constantly threw around words and accusations at the woman like unwanted affection (a personal cliché, as I always want affection). A bunch of males, me included, instinctually moved closer to this “couple” and surrounded them; I suppose just in case anything were too happen. I was only on the train for one stop before I got off, and an older gentleman got off with me. As we were travelling, he had signalled to the young woman to get off. She had to know, because he kept motioning and waving his hand to the lady until she acknowledged what he was saying. She didn’t move, so I can infer that she refused. What alarms me is that when the roles are reversed, and it is a woman badgering a man, that’s socially accepted!
It’s weird, there was a social experiment on Youtube that showed public perception to a male vs. a woman abuser. When the male was argumentative, people were concerned, especially when he got physical. Yet, not to my surprise, when the genders were reversed, people laughed. There were no bands of women coming to the assistance of the man, yet when the roles are reversed; men don’t wait to get involved. Women practically don’t have to say anything, if situation is perceived as bad; men are on it.