The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not represent the policies or positions of any agency of the U.S. government or any government official, past or present.
“This American carnage stops right here and stops right now,” the new president declared at his sparsely attended inauguration, referencing the glaring falsehood at the core of his convictions on criminal justice issues. In the campaign, Trump said, “Inner-city crime is reaching record levels.” This is false. He made three separate claims in October 2016 that, “The murder rate in the United States, it’s the worst, the highest it’s been in 45 years.” This, too, is completely and verifiably false. In fact, violent crime rates are at 50-year lows, half of what they were in 1991. In 2015, while arguing for his plan to reinstate unconstitutional stop-and-frisk practices and expand mass incarceration through harsher sentencing, Trump retweeted fabricated statistics that most killings of whites are done by African-Americans.
Trump’s plans to bring back “law and order” are predicated on falsehoods and will have a direct and tragic impact on 1.5 million incarcerated Americans, those who have served their sentences and are trying to reenter society, and those who have yet to enter the criminal justice system. The person tasked with overseeing these plans is incoming Attorney General Jeff Sessions, who was once rejected for a federal judgeship by the United States Senate over allegations of racism. In this disorienting, post-truth environment, I am more grateful than ever for the incredible work of the Obama Administration’s Department of Justice (DOJ).
DOJ is the only cabinet agency named after a societal ideal. Its wide-ranging work on issues of public safety, fairness, and equality has always been at the center of my interests. As I finish studying Political Communication and Criminal Justice at GW, I am preparing to continue my studies at Columbia Law School and reflecting on the past three and a half years. My time interning in the Office of the Attorney General (OAG) this past summer stands out as one of the most rewarding experiences of my life.
Last spring, I applied to at least 20 summer internship programs at DOJ. I was passionate about the work of the Department, especially under the direction of Attorney General Loretta Lynch, and desperately wanted to work in the Obama Administration before it ended. In the weeks and months after applying, I received a sprinkling of rejections and simply never heard back from most offices. However, I refreshed my inbox one day to see an email from the only office that asked me to interview: OAG.
By some cosmic stroke of luck, I got the job without any idea of what the daily experience would be like in the Office of Attorney General. The position was new, with only one intern coming before me, and I was told the program would end with the Obama Administration. Armed with only that information and a security clearance, I walked through the doors of the Robert F. Kennedy Building for the first day of my internship.
I received the full tour of OAG, meeting gracious members of the AG’s staff and admiring the ornate artwork covering the walls and ceilings with stories of progress and justice. At the end of the tour, at a meeting of several staff members, my supervisor called my name. I turned around and gasped. Standing in the doorway was Attorney General Loretta Lynch, smiling. I was introduced as our new intern and she thanked me for the work I would be doing over the next three months.
My first project was not too glamorous. I was to water the AG’s orchids by soaking them for no more than five minutes. Naturally, I forgot about them when another assignment came to my desk to summarize event invitations for the Director of Scheduling. I continued doing other work, writing biographies of notable attendees for upcoming events to be included in the AG’s briefing binders. And before I knew it, the day was over.
The following morning, bright and early, I sat at my desk and felt sudden, overwhelming dread. I had left the orchids, which were only supposed to be soaked for five minutes weekly, submerged in water for 24 hours. I sprinted over to the entrance to the AG’s office in a vain rescue attempt of the drowning flowers. Quick research rendered the following chilling information: “Overwatering leads to the demise of many orchids.” I solemnly informed my supervisor, who laughed and told me to forget it. There were more important things to worry about.
Over the following weeks, as the orchid’s petals wilted and fell, these words rang true. Tragedy after unfathomable tragedy unfolded that brought renewed urgency to the work of the Attorney General to promote community policing, tolerance, and equality. I was honored to help draft and assemble the AG’s briefing binders for her trips to Orlando after the PULSE Nightclub shooting; to Baton Rouge after the police-involved shooting of Alton Sterling and the subsequent shooting of five police officers; and to Phoenix for the Community Policing Tour to help implement key recommendations from the President’s Task Force on 21st Century Policing.
As the 2016 presidential campaign ratcheted up, DOJ continued to work around the clock building bridges and advancing the cause of justice. I remember writing the memo for and advancing her trip to Baltimore to attend the National Forum on Youth Violence Prevention. There, she spoke of the Department’s work to treat violence as a public health problem and use evidence-based prevention approaches to reduce youth violence. Facts, not fabrications, would determine justice policy. I drafted the memo and briefing materials for her trip to Detroit to celebrate the 33rd Annual National Night Out, a community-building event with festivals and cookouts that gives law enforcement and local residents a chance to build relationships and promote crime-prevention efforts.
During these difficult times, I was also tasked with monitoring news of officers killed in the line of duty and notifying senior staff of recent deaths so the AG could write condolence letters. My father, who passed away several years ago, was a police officer in NYPD for 20 years. I found this work deeply personal and often thought of the children that were left without a mother or father from senseless acts of violence.
But it would be wrong to think of them without also thinking of the families devastated by the deaths of Alton Sterling, Philando Castile, and countless other victims of police brutality. These families did not receive pensions from police departments or the respect they deserve from so much of society. Throughout my internship, I became more and more convinced that the only way to heal the wounds ripped open by police brutality and violence against police is to hold police departments accountable and fight to bring justice to those who feel excluded and forgotten. Broad criminal justice reforms that end mass incarceration; close the vast racial disparities that exist in arrest rates, the use of force, prosecution, and sentencing; and stop the criminalization of the poor will be necessary to end the cycle of crime and build the trust that can bring law enforcement and the communities they serve together.
Under the Obama Administration, DOJ routinely investigated police departments, finding patterns of using force in violation of the Fourth Amendment of the Constitution. To reform systemic deficiencies, the Department worked to enhance de-escalation training and accountability. I fear this critical work has come to an end. Shortly after Trump took the oath of office, the White House published an issue statement titled, “Standing Up For Our Law Enforcement Community”, which announced the beginning of a “law and order administration” that would halt the “dangerous anti-police atmosphere in America.” The statement promises an expansion of gun ownership, deportation of undocumented immigrants, revamping the War on Drugs, and what is likely to be a policy of unconditional support for law enforcement.
In the aftermath of Trump’s inauguration, I have found comfort in the knowledge I gained during my internship that people who truly embody justice have led the Department and advanced its eponymous ideal. People of that caliber can, and must, administer the law once more.