Humanity First: When Speaking Up becomes A Crime.

Humanity First: The vulnerable among us feel helpless, uncovered, and unprotected.
Justice denied. Voices silenced. A nation weeps.
Brokenness lingers. Silence empowers injustice. Abuse of power rises.
Persecution replaces protection, and speaking up becomes a crime.

Arthlene Legair Lawrence

“Learn to do right; seek justice. Defend the oppressed. Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow.” – Isaiah 1:17


I created this flyer.
Not because I’m a designer or writer but because I’m a mother.
A woman of faith. A witness to pain. A voice for the unheard.

At the top of that flyer, I placed one word in bold, unshakable letters:
HUMANITY.

Because that’s what this conversation is truly about.
Not politics.
Not power.
Not uniforms or slogans.
People.

Real people. Real pain. Real stories.
Across the globe, in Dominica, Antigua, Jamaica, the Caribbean, and the United States, one truth keeps rising like a fire in my chest:

The people who are supposed to protect us… have too often become the ones we fear.

A Personal Turning Point

What pushed me to write this blog wasn’t just data or headlines. It was what I saw with my own eyes a moment that broke my heart and shook something inside me.

I turned on the news (Emo News), expecting to simply watch a peaceful protest by citizens in my homeland, exercising their democratic right to stand up and speak out.
(For those who may not know, Emo News is one of the most respected and reliable news sources in the Commonwealth of Dominica and truly across the Caribbean. They report with integrity, fairness, and boldness. They give voice to all sides, covering stories that matter to everyone, without bias or political leaning.)


 But what I witnessed… was horror.

A police officer yelling at a journalist, not just telling her to move, but grabbing her equipment and shouting in her face, while two other journalists nearby were left untouched.
Then, in front of the cameras, an elderly man was thrown to the ground, beaten with a baton like his life meant nothing. I had to turn the television off. My spirit couldn’t take it. And yet, the pain stayed with me.

Just days later, I heard about people being arrested one by one  , not for committing crimes, but for simply being associated with the demonstration. Others were taken from villages where peaceful protestors had blocked a road, and in response, tear gas was released in the middle of the night.
A village with children. A village with elderly.

This is not justice. This is not peacekeeping.
This is trauma being inflicted on citizens who deserve to be heard, not harmed.

And if I, thousands of miles away in America, felt shaken… heartbroken… and traumatized just watching it unfold online imagine the pain of those who lived it. 

Who breathed in the tear gas.

Who watched their elders be thrown down.

Who stood powerless in the face of abuse.

That kind of pain doesn’t disappear. It stays. 

It settles into the soul. It silences the voice… unless we choose to speak.

I’m not here to defend roadblocks or unlawful action. I’m here to say:
There is a right way to protect, and there is a wrong way to abuse power.
And too often, we are witnessing the latter.

I recently visited another country where protestors had blocked an entire four-lane road. No violence. No arrests. No one beaten. People found another way to get by, and the nation moved forward — without fear.

It’s possible.

And that’s why I had to write this. Not just as an observer… but as a woman who loves her people. A woman who believes in freedom, peace, and accountability — for all sides.

What’s Really Broken?

This issue goes beyond “good cop” or “bad cop.” It’s systemic. It’s historical. It’s spiritual. And it’s emotional. Let’s name what we see.

1. Colonial and Corrupted Systems

In many Caribbean nations, modern policing systems were inherited from colonial powers — not built to protect the people, but to control them. That legacy of oppression has never been fully dismantled. In the U.S., the origins are just as disturbing — birthed out of slave patrols, segregation enforcement, and unequal justice.

2. Improper Training and Emotional Neglect

Many officers are trained for enforcement, not empathy. For control, not connection. For aggression, not accountability. Worse, many carry their own unhealed trauma, which bleeds into their behavior in the field. We cannot afford officers with weapons and no emotional intelligence.

3. Power without Responsibility

In both small nations and large cities, corruption runs deep. Officers often form alliances with the very criminals they should be protecting us from — or hide behind political ties that grant them immunity.

4. Communities in Fear

The relationship between police and the people has been fractured. In many places, we no longer run to the police — we run from them. That’s not justice. That’s trauma.

5. Unaddressed Trauma — On Both Sides

Police officers are humans too. Many suffer from PTSD, depression, or burnout. But where is the support? Where is the healing? Instead of care, they get culture — toxic ones that say: “Stay strong. Show force. Never back down.” And the people pay the price.

This Isn’t About Hatred — It’s About Healing

Let me be clear:
I am not against the police.
I’ve seen some of the kindest officers help communities and protect lives with honor.
But I am against abuse. I am against silence. I am against injustice.

This blog is not a protest.
It’s a plea.

A plea for:

  • Healing over harm

  • Justice over fear

  • Unity over division

  • Accountability over impunity

  • Humanity over everything

So Where Do We Run?

We’ve been asking this question for too long.

When we can’t trust the people with the badge,
When we can’t call for help without fear,
When we feel more protected by silence than speech…
Where do we run?

We run to the truth.
We run to each other.
We run to action.
We run to God, but we also run to justice.

and the cost of courage is captivity.

...and still, we are told to stay silent.

...but the cries of the people reach heaven.

What Can We Do?

We don't just speak.
We move. We build. We lead.

Here’s how we start:

Where Is the Church in All This?

As believers, we cannot turn a blind eye.
As leaders, we cannot stay silent.
As the body of Christ, we have a divine responsibility to show up where injustice lives, where trauma lingers, and where people feel forgotten.

Jesus didn’t run from the crowd; He walked into it.
He didn’t ignore the suffering; He touched it.
He didn’t protect the powerful; He confronted them.
He didn’t stay in the temple; He walked the streets.
So why are we hiding behind our pulpits when the streets are bleeding?

It’s not enough to pray in secret while injustice roars in public.

The church is not just a building. We are the conscience of a community.
We are the ones who must speak when others are silenced,
intercede when others are oppressed,
and stand when others are afraid.

God is calling pastors, prophets, apostles, evangelists, and teachers to do more than preach sermons 

He's calling us to be salt and light, defend the oppressed, break chains, comfort the brokenhearted, and declare truth in love.

We are not called to take sides but to stand on the side of righteousness.

Let the church rise up 
Not just in song, but in action.
Not just in scripture but in justice.
Not just in comfort, but in conviction.

Because this isn’t just a political issue.
This is a Kingdom issue.

And until we see justice roll like a river 
Until we see truth reign over systems 
Until we see the church leading the charge for change…
We are not fully living the Gospel.

For the Community:

  • Educate ourselves and others on civil rights, law enforcement standards, and mental health awareness.

  • Create safe spaces where youth learn their rights and feel empowered.

  • Organize forums and town halls to hold leadership accountable.

  • Tell our stories on blogs, podcasts, stages, and in schools.

For the Police:

  • Mandatory emotional wellness checks and trauma support for officers.

  • Re-training in de-escalation, cultural sensitivity, and community-building.

  • Reward officers who serve with integrity.

  • Fire and prosecute those who harm and abuse their power no more hiding behind the badge.

For Governments and Leaders:

  • Fund programs for mental health, education, and real reform.

  • Listen to the people. Stop defending broken systems.

  • Uplift partnerships between officers and communities.

For Us All:

  • Pray and act. We are spiritual beings, but we live in real communities.

  • Vote, volunteer, speak up, and show up.

  • Don’t let fear keep you quiet.
    Because if we stop speaking, we stop living.

Let This Be a Movement, Not Just a Moment

Let’s raise the standard. Let’s demand a new kind of badge — not one that says “power,” but one that says protection, partnership, and purpose.

Let’s call our communities to accountability, not accusation.

Let’s believe in better.
Let’s build stronger.
Let’s become the change.

Final Words

“Learn to do right; seek justice.
Defend the oppressed.
Take up the cause of the fatherless;
plead the case of the widow.” – Isaiah 1:17

We may not all carry a badge —
But we all carry a voice.
Let’s use it.
Let’s rise.
Let’s put humanity first. Always.

Humanity First: The vulnerable among us feel helpless, uncovered, and unprotected.
Justice denied. Voices silenced. A nation weeps.
Brokenness lingers. Silence empowers injustice. Abuse of power rises.
Persecution replaces protection, and speaking up becomes a crime.


Dr. Arthlene Legair Lawrence

Strategic Innovator, Global Visionary, Humanitarian, and Empowerment Leader.