海角大神

Dorchester teen Taya Hopkins recently met the police officer who arrested her 18-year-old brother.

Against her advice, her brother and his friends were playing outside with fake guns. Someone called the police, and upon arriving, an officer drew his gun. He lowered it when the teens dropped the pretend guns and he saw they were no threat, she says. He also spoke to them respectfully.

鈥淚 thanked the officer, because I鈥檝e seen how this incident could end up very different鈥�. My brother is still alive because officers saw my brother and his friends as just teenage boys being dumb instead of as dangerous colored youth,鈥� Taya said at a recent police-community summit where she performed with Code Listen. The band, which was formed this summer, is made up of minority teens and members of the Boston Police Department who collaborated in depth to compose their own songs.

Through such dialogue, Taya says, she could see 鈥渢he human behind the badge,鈥� and the police officers could 鈥渟ee beyond the label 鈥� 鈥榖lack, female, Dorchester鈥� 鈥� and see me as a leader.鈥�

National tragedies 鈥� from Ferguson to Baton Rouge, from the killing of Philando Castile in Minnesota to the assassination of Dallas police 鈥� formed the backdrop for the conversation at the summit in Boston's Roxbury neighborhood Aug. 4. But for many participants, those flashpoints stood in stark contrast to the long-term community relationships that have been forged in Boston. Their stories also spoke to the work it takes on both sides to be willing to look beyond ingrained stereotypes.

Despite a history of racial tensions here, the city has remained relatively calm. And unlike such cities as Chicago and Baltimore, which have seen a spike in violent crime, Boston saw its crime rate聽another 15 percent over the past 18 months. The city鈥檚 arrest rate dropped 28 percent.

While no one believes Boston鈥檚 work is done, law enforcement experts say, its approach could offer lessons to other police departments beginning their own work on repairing relationships with minority residents.

Because of the reservoir of goodwill, when a situation goes bad in Boston, 鈥渋t鈥檚 not likely we鈥檙e going have people take to the streets and have ongoing, months-long sustained protests that are indicative of a palpable tension between police and members of the community,鈥� says Tom Nolan, a criminology professor at Merrimack College in North Andover, Mass., and a former Boston police lieutenant.

But officials say it鈥檚 not a time for the city to rest on its laurels, either. 鈥淚t鈥檚 important to continue to work at it every day,鈥� Mayor Marty Walsh told the Monitor just before the start of the event, hosted by the youth advocacy group Teen Empowerment at the Unitarian Universalist Urban Ministry. 鈥淲e haven鈥檛 seen what鈥檚 happened in other cities, but that doesn鈥檛 mean we鈥檙e immune to it.鈥�

Code Listen

Code Listen is the creation of Shaw Pong Liu, who won a six-month artist-in-residence grant and spent several months doing ride-alongs with officers and leading impromptu jam sessions during lunch breaks before bringing the police and teens together.

Sitting down with police is not something many urban teens want to do at first, says Sheri Bridgeman, Teen Empowerment鈥檚 director of Boston programs. 鈥淲e set up a safe environment.鈥�

Teenager Oduagbon 鈥淒ante鈥� Omorgobe, whose childhood was characterized by neglect and criminality, wasn't so sure the first time he participated this summer. 鈥淚 wasn鈥檛 too fond of the idea, but by the end 鈥� [I realized] that police have a tough, tough job and we as a community should recognize that, just like we want them to recognize our circumstances,鈥� he says.

Josh Kenworthy/海角大神

Boston Police Officer Steve Collette (r.), Taya Hopkins (c.), and other members of Code Listen, a youth and police band, at the Teen Empowerment Community-Police Summit in Boston's Roxbury neighborhood Aug. 5.

During an hours-long workshop for Code Listen, Ms. Liu recalls, 鈥渙ne of the officers got a little choked up talking about something personal, and a bunch of the youth went to give her a hug.鈥� At the end, 鈥渁t least three of the young women shared that it was a really big deal for them to see a police officer shed tears,鈥� because it showed them that police feel emotions, she says. The police also relate to the struggles the teens are going through and offer tangible support, such as clothes for one of the youths who was homeless.

Steve Collette, a white policeman formerly stationed in Roxbury, plays a guitar with a bright yellow strap adorned with the words 鈥渃rime scene.鈥�

鈥淚 think me being there for them really means a lot to them,鈥� he says. 鈥淏ut it actually makes me feel good as well鈥�. There鈥檚 a lot to take in, a lot of stories.鈥�

Chris, an older teen who requested that his last name not be used, says that with Officer Collette and the other police in Code Listen, 鈥淚 know that I鈥檒l be heard and I can take every feedback that they are giving me.鈥�

Chris hopes that the group, by 鈥渕aking incredible music, will influence the young people in the community to open up and not feel scared 鈥� like the police is attacking them, which they鈥檙e not.鈥�

Raynise Charles, a 15-year-old singer in Code Listen, says the teens saw police differently from Day 1 of the project.鈥淭hey didn鈥檛 even come in police gear. We鈥檙e like, 鈥榊ou鈥檙e police?鈥� and he鈥檚 like, 鈥業鈥檓 a detective for 18 years,鈥欌�� We just saw each other as people, so it was really fun.鈥�

From community walks to ice cream trucks

Code Listen is just one more example of how Boston police 鈥渉aven鈥檛 shied away from 鈥� considering new means to engage the community, and 鈥� a lot of cities across the country would do well to take a lesson from this playbook,鈥� Professor Nolan says.

鈥淭hey鈥檝e still got a considerable amount of work to do,鈥� he adds. The police force is majority white in a city where the majority of residents are people of color, he says. And the police union has been resisting body cameras, while activists in the community have been pushing for them.

Nolan isn鈥檛 too impressed with the police ice cream truck, which officers drive around to hand out free ice cream to kids. 鈥淚t鈥檚 a feel-good thing,鈥� he says.

But that effort doesn鈥檛 stoke the type of criticism that came in reaction to Halifax, Va., officers who were recently stopping drivers, making them think the stop was serious before handing them free ice cream. A video 鈥� of a black woman nervously speaking to an officer and then laughing with an extreme sense of relief once the ice cream appeared 鈥� went viral last week, with some commentators scolding what they saw as a tone-deaf and dangerous gimmick.

鈥淭o the untrained eye and ear, the black woman captured in the video sounded full of joy. But to black people everywhere, we know what loud, uncontrollable relief looks and sounds like.鈥� That relief that forces you to laugh because you haven鈥檛 had the space to cry just yet. That relief every time we interact with police officers because we never know if we will leave that interaction alive,鈥� wrote Preston Mitchum in .

Nolan has heard of similar efforts and says, 鈥淚t really is a questionable practice.鈥� I was a cop for 27 years and if I get stopped, I鈥檓 going to be anxious about it.鈥�

For her part, Liu doesn鈥檛 want Code Listen to be reduced to 鈥渏ust a reassuring image of young people and officers making music together.

鈥淭he focus is 鈥� intimate conversations with one another,鈥� she says. 鈥淭hese issues are really big and what I鈥檓 hoping to do is to encourage more dialogue.鈥�

A new set of teens and officers will be collaborating to make music in the coming weeks.

At the summit, the audience heard from teen Carrie Mays about how 鈥渉eartbroken鈥� she was when she watched the video in which Mr. Castile鈥檚 girlfriend, Diamond Reynolds, tried to reassure her daughter, who was in the back seat when he was shot by police. She 鈥渃alled the little girl 鈥楧ae Dae,鈥� and right there a piece of myself was ripped from my heart, because my nickname is 鈥楧ayday.鈥� 鈥�

Organizers asked participants to sign a 10-point community agreement that reads in part, 鈥淲e, the undersigned, are ready, willing and able to work together to protect the right of community, youth and police to be treated with respect.鈥�

In one song, Taya gives melody to a question that resonates with anyone concerned about the state of police-community relations: 鈥淲here do we go from here?鈥� She rounds out the lilting chorus with a plea: 鈥淒on鈥檛 lose your patience. We all get frustrated.鈥�

Oduey Uga, a 12^th -grader with Teen Empowerment, says hopefully the band 鈥渞epresents that cops and children in my community can really have relationships. So if they can, why can鈥檛 adults?鈥�