To The Members of the Portfolio Committee,

As a recent high school graduate I spent the weeks prior to the first semester worrying about my first semester of courses, primarily my English literature course. Having excelled in virtually every literature course thrown at me within the last few years I can honestly say that I expected something very different from what I found when I stepped over the threshold on that first day of class. I do not know if it was my high school teachers trying to terrify my class into submission or the various instances in pop culture where the students gather in a dim lecture hall and merely stare at a board all day but I was most definitely not expecting to walk into a quaint little class where students were in neat rows and the professor stood at a white board outlining the semester and openly asking our opinion. And when the announcement was made that the assignments were to be done online,  with a  rough draft posted to a blog and the final draft emailed directly to the professor I was floored. I had never blogged before and I was not prepared to have to come up with a witty web handle and then give it to complete strangers so they could view it for assignments. To me my writing has always been a way to remain anonymous and to say things that scare me and now people knew my name and could see what I had to say. For the first week the course honestly scared me and yet as each meeting passed it was easier for me to come out of my shell and allow myself to share just what I had to say. I was talking to people, helping them while they helped me and it was a new experience

The first assignment that I present to you was just that-our first assignment. It was a memoir that we were to write from the perspective of five to eight inanimate and relatively similar tools that help you perform some sort of task. While initially excited about the assignment I became distinctly uncomfortable as I sat before a screen and typed out the story behind the camera, the pen, the animals, the books and the music that help me in day to day life. The entire time I wrote it was saved under As much as this project was a means of exploring the use of these materials it was also a means of exploring my. Doing what I do best, I filled the paragraphs with detail and first person perspectives, trying to paint as vivid a picture as possible with my words. Using my attention to detail I displayed focus in each paragraph by staying on the particular tool. I believe that this essay was an introduction to my writing style and displays the focus I have once I get going.

The second assignment I chose to upload is the photo essay that was assigned at the end of the semester. Having mentioned my photography in my first essay as a means of expression I had an ulterior motive for this project. Because the courses subject matter was robots I called my alma mater Mt. Hope High School in Bristol, Rhode Island, and asked if it were possible for me to go in and basically interview the current members of the robotics team. This assignment not only shows my photography but it shows that, despite my shyness, I personally went out and interviewed these people because I refused to stand in my own way. This essay was by far my most organized because when I originally made it I had set it up as a slideshow. Mapping out the interview to correspond with predetermined slides, I asked questions and took pictures for each of the points I wanted to touch down upon. Having the freedom to this assignment on any subject I wanted allowed for greater organization because it was not pre outlined in a course listing- it was my choice and I was allowed to work on it with OCD accuracy.

My third and final assignment was a proposal of whether or not robots should be used in a field of my choosing. Having written few research papers in high school it was eye opening and frightening, the worst part being that I had to slog through the thousands of search engine hits to find credible sources and then distinguishing the seemingly credible from the legitimate sites. As the daughter of two former police officers who aspires to go into law I took an interest in the idea of robots in police work and how some departments are beginning to look at putting them in positions other than on the bomb squad or in search and rescue. Taking advantage that the assignment was almost like a structured free write that required sources, I scoured the internet for facts and figures to support my argument that robots are not appropriate for police work. It took editing the proposal numerous times and rewriting my outlines about a half dozen times before I was satisfied.

This course allowed me to expand on my writing and expand on myself in a way, bringing forth a slightly less shy version of myself to the forefront and I am hoping that the English 102 Honors program will do the same next semester. It was certainly an experience and I look forward to using the skills that I learned in my English 101 class in the future. Since starting in this class I have fortified my strengths and built on my weaknesses, rounding out my writing personality and finding myself along the way.

Thank you for your time,

Courtney Garrity

Have you ever been so cripplingly shy that you stutter and swoon, becoming physically ill at the thought of speaking in front of a class? To feel so nauseous at the thought of just going to class that you cried and begged to stay home? For years I have been channeling my thoughts through my photography, my writing, my interaction with animals, the books I have chosen and my music. They have become my means of communicating, my means of connecting to the world. To me they are more than just tools and artifacts, they are a life line. And during my sophomore year of high school when my shyness and social anxiety forced me to miss ninety three days of school, they became my means of feeling a semblance of normalcy. When I was behind my camera or holding my pen I wasn’t constantly being asked by replacement teachers if I was a mid semester transfer student or whether my little ‘vacations’ were any fun. The days where I am editing photos or just laying with my kitten with the radio on I am not receiving taunting and pitying gazes where ever I turned. To have my photography, my music, my books, my writing and my animals is akin to having my own private world, where the pressures of society and the misconception of me being an introvert because of the fact that I’m too shy to express myself don’t exist.

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The Camera

The heavy feel of the camera in calloused palms was a comfort, the weight of its body and hard casing solidifying the fact that it was real as thin fingers readjusted the lenses and settings to bring it into focus and match the surroundings. With the flash off and the camera set to manual mode the image through the view finder was sharp and clear as I positioned myself carefully. The headstones in front of me were grouped like a macabre smile-crooked, broken, worn and missing in spaces with just the base visible. My finger dispensed the shutter’s release once, twice, three times as I subtly adjusted my angle by propping myself on my elbows. The near silent hiss of the shutter was comforting and with every time it sounded I felt a bit of the days stress slip away. I reviewed the images on the camera’s screen, noticing how much clearer things are when you capture them for life.  Shifting once more I found my next subject-a concrete angel set away from the main plots, standing guard over the section known as the “Little Angels,” reminding me that life can often be too short. That is what I love about photography- it serves as a form of expression, as a reminder about the life that sometimes manages to slip through our fingers. And later as I sit behind the screen of my laptop, fingers flying over the keys as the narrow blue bar gets progressively longer I feel as if I can breathe. The cursor blinks as I hesitate, staring at the blue and white ‘f’ in the corner of the page as I tap out titles and hit “Complete upload.” Now my pictures are out there, brief little descriptions beneath them on my Facebook page explaining either where they are or what I was thinking when I took it. As I minimize the page to finish this essay I listen to the little electronic ‘pings’ with pride, each one representing someone who is acknowledging my work and in a sense, acknowledging me.

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The Written Word

Vibrant, brightly inked words flowed across lined paper the letters small and neat, elegantly connected like long lost lovers upon a reunion. With every new line a piece of a story fell into place, the names of people and places changed for privacy reasons as I recounted a moment of time. Images flashed before my eyes as my hand moved as if at its own volition to scratch out the memories that had haunted me. I wrote without stopping, inserting the witty one liner I wish I had responded with and the moment where I should have been honest rather than simply smiling and saying ‘It’s okay,’ as I listened to their excuses once more because honestly, it wasn’t okay. As I wrote I adjusted what I wish he had said to me, the moment where it was possible that I was more than just the girl who helped him understand the concept of existentialism and who reminded him more often than not of upcoming due dates and mandatory events. In my writing I am someone else- outgoing, happy and most of all visible.

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Four Pawed family

I can honestly say that I’ve had animals my entire life- multiple dogs and cats, a duck, a bearded dragon, rabbits, and even two calves at one point-but there has always been something special about the downy soft, pastel calico kitten who was only supposed to be a temporary resident. I had expected that the night after rescuing her from behind a dumpster I would wake up the next morning and find nothing but a cold, still ball of fur and yet she surprised me then and continues to do so now. Her name is Parker, her coat a blend of stormy grey, a sweet golden maple and the purest of whites. As I type she scampers through my room, knocking knick knacks from their shelves, burrowing through the hamper and then appearing the next moment asleep in my camera bag. It is as if she’s a part of me, an extension of a limb that every time I move so does she. She’s an essential part of me, like the blood she sheds as I attempt to dislodge her from where she has tangled herself in the curtains. She is an anchor, a connection to a world outside the very one I created to keep myself from others.

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Those Who Read Live But a Thousand Lives

Stacks and stacks of books line every available surface- hardcover and paperback, old and new alike. The scent of ink on paper is musty but like one of the finest perfumes it is worth its weight in jewels. Visible spines, some creased with age, display their titles in small prints and some of them are even stamped leather, cracking with repetitive use. Each genre was seemingly represented, covering all subject matter from Civil War romance to the Religious theory of how witch craft was tied to the Apocalypse.  Each novel was an adventure I could only wish to have. Tales of heroine’s who had superseded all obstacles were decorated with tiny Post-It flags, creating a rainbow of colors that presented themselves like sassy little kids sticking their tongues out. As I sit before the book case, searching for my next selection my eyes sweep left and right, highlighting the well loved novels that have made the last few years bearable. Witch Child by Celia Rees, Meghan Meade’s Guide to the McGowan Boys by Katie Brian, Lone Wolf  by Jodi Picoult, and Last Man Down by FDNY Battalion Commander Richard Picciotto. I have trouble choosing and mull over a trip to the hallowed halls of the library, where more often than not these books have been on sale for mere pennies compared to their store price. And then I see it, a brand new copy of Markus Zusak’s The Book Thief. I devour the pages and get lost, so much so that I sit down at noon and blink, forcing my eyes from the pages to the clock as I hear my name being called. Four hours flew by and the novel is complete, my mind awhirl with unanswered questions and useless hopes for the characters.  There is a quote I practically live by, something that George R.R. Martin once said in A Dance With Dragons and it is that ‘A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one.’ The saying is like an anthem, taken to heart if the hundreds of books lining my room have anything to say about it. They are my adventures, my escapes and you could even say they are my many chances at different lives.

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Music: The Universal Language

The soft plucking of guitar strings echoed first, followed closely there after by a steady drum beat and the artist’s voice which was nothing more than a croon. The lyrics were a soulful blend of happy memories and mourning, mostly country with a little bit of rock in the beat. As it played memories shot through me- an old Lazy-Boy that smelled of tobacco, fresh cut pine and old spice, a beat up truck hauling wood through town, calloused hands gently sanding down the rocking chair that sits in my room, even a set of turn out gear resting at the back door in case of emergencies.  Listening to the song is like connecting to my long gone great-grandfather, so much so that within a few months I will have inked its lyrics in my flesh. The song is Justin Moore’s “If Heaven Wasn’t So Far Away,” a song I heard on accident and cried to that very first time. It makes me wish that all those I have lost are still with me- my great grandfather, my father’s parents who I met only as an infant, all the pets I had that never lived a full life. It gives me hope that I will see them again, even if they aren’t a five minute car ride away and I know others may feel the same way when they listen to it or any other song. Music is a universal language, something everyone can listen to and relate to, something that draws people together from all walks of life. All it takes is one song to break the silence and draw the most unlikely of people into a conversation, something that I’ve used many times. Music is like the subtitles to life’s little moments, clearing up the fuzziness.

For our fourth assignment, students were required to research a topic and find accompanying photos for a photo essay. Choosing to interview members of my Alma maters robotics team, I also spent time at a few of their meetings taking photos. To view the PDF presentation, please select and open the file hyper linked above.

Since the industrial revolution it seems as if technology has infiltrated most fields including law enforcement nationally and internationally. Having started out as hand held radios and dispatch centers that send information across a line to squad cars, technology is now laptops and tablets in the cruisers, machines that measure a person’s blood alcohol level and even infrared scanners that are used to fingerprint person and perp alike rather than an ink pad and piece of cardstock. I believe that while there is a minuet use for robots in police work doing things such as bomb diffusion and radar, the position should be held in majority by the flesh and blood police officer. Robots would not be a good replacement for beat cops because empathy and split second decision making, two things they lack, are very important to the job and the cost effectiveness is debatable.

Established in April of 1635, one of the first police forces in the United States stemmed from a night watch group in the thirteen colonies that patrolled Boston, Massachusetts, without pay (Important Dates in Law Enforcement History). Since then the modern version of police offices have expanded throughout the United States and across the remaining continents, progressing slowly with technology and bypassing any previous militias and small patrols. As of the late twentieth and early twenty first centuries spun about there were suddenly more options as technical science and the more hands on industrial technology fields boomed. It was an evolution, spreading bits of knowledge and gear to the ends of the earth. The use of robots in law enforcement started with the World War II era military, evolving over the years to aid soldiers before hitting the home front, like most of the current police technology.

When you join the police force there are two expectations about emotional conduct. You are expected to be able to deal with the criminals without allowing your anger to control you and you are expected to interact with the victim without making them feel anymore violated no matter the crime. The majority of officers can easily empathize with the victims of crimes and the people that they interact with on calls. While some departments mandate sensitivity training, others do not. But the problem with using robots in police work is that they lack the ability to empathize with victims in their cases, they cannot make split second decisions and the robots could easily be hacked- something that could be a huge risk if the hacker is also interested in detonating the bomb that the robot is trying to defuse.  If the officers are dispatched to a rape or a case of child abuse it is all about being able to communicate a sense of understanding, to convincingly open your soul up so that the victim feels comfortable enough to relate to you their stories. As a piece of non-feeling metal, alloys, and electronics, not only does the appearance of the robot come off as unyieldingly harsh but not reliable and unhuman. People often underestimate the effect that a warm pair of eyes, a quick smile or even an “I’m here if you need me” can have on an emotionally charged person who is so afraid that they jump at the sight of their own shadow.

The concept of your life changing in the blink of an eye is often underestimated until you face the situation. It is in those moments that the blood pumps faster, our adrenaline flows, and our fight or flight instincts kick in. When it comes to reacting appropriately in those situations human police officers are much more accurate in response than robots. Because robots are either preprogrammed or remotely operated, the likeliness of a fast response time or changing the program to react in that split second is nearly impossible. With human police officers, one of the things that they are taught in the Police Academy is to analyze a situation as quickly and accurately as possible while ultimately following your instincts when the situation calls. Timing is everything when it comes to calls like hostage situations or talking down a suicidal citizen and the following quote sums up just how much that split second can mean: “There can be as much value in the blink of an eye as in the months of rational analysis” (Gladwell). For thousands, if not millions of dispatches worldwide that have made a turn for the negative those seconds are the difference between literal life and death. If the situation takes a turn for the negative, robots are merely reprogrammed with what could be the best possible solution should it ever happen again while human officers analyze the situation, train for it, and constantly remind themselves of what they could have done better. For some officers, the few the loose in these situations are their motivation to prevent similar crimes from happening again.

While the initial cost of a robotic police officer is pretty high and maintenance costs can accumulate, they can be considered more cost effective than a salaried human officer who requires medical/dental insurance, their salary, uniforms, paid sick time/time off, and holiday/time and a half pay if they pull an extra shift or cover for someone unless you take in the initial purchase price and annual maintenance fees. In the United States, the salaries of human police officers can be as low as $31,060 a year in Mississippi to as high as $81,970 a year in California, making the national average around $47,000 a year in the United States. According to a joint study between the Florida International University’s Discovery Lab and Lieutenant Commander Jeremy Robins of the US Navy, the two are working to combine robots and humans in order to get disabled police officers and military veterans back to work on the force. They would work as patrol officers, operating wheeled telepresence robots and doing everything from responding to 911 calls and writing parking tickets to ensuring the security of nuclear facilities”(Hornyack). These ‘telepresence robot’ patrol officers are about$250,000 per robot (Hornyak). The cost of one of those robots is about equal to the salary of a police officer making $47,000 for five years, or, the cost of five police officers at relatively entry level positions for a full year. If that is the cost, why wouldn’t we remain hiring human police officers- people with families, mortgages, bills and futures all depending on a steady job in times when jobs can be scarce and hard to come by? Another financial benefit of human police officers over robotic police officers is that human officers have provided jobs and jobs mean money, which can influence the person to spend and put the money back into the economy. If the police officers buy their food at grocery stores or farmers markets, their clothes and goods from local small businesses, or take a few extra classes locally, the money that they are being paid to protect the people of their great cities and towns is being put back into the local and national economies, which is helping to slowly build the nation back up following the recession and the fiscal deficit. While the robots may be able to work more consecutive shifts than human offers are allowed according to local mandates, the breakup of shifts allows the employment of more officers which means a rejuvenation of the economy.

Though robots in law enforcement are primarily used for calls that could be dangerous to human officers such as incident containment, search and rescue, and working with explosives, there are other jobs that maybe, just maybe, they could perform. With everything that has happened in Ferguson, Missouri within the last year perhaps a robotic police officer in similar areas may be helpful, or at the last outward facing dash cams in the cruisers. The robots could be used anywhere from crowd control to crime scene analysis to patrolling the streets during riots in order to dissuade rioters from looting and destroying homes and businesses. Even though performing the duties in a town as torn as Ferguson is dangerous, human cops still do it every day, despite the risk and without needing to be plugged in and recharged.

In conclusion, robots have no place in replacing human police officers on the force. Despite the fact that when it comes to handling bombs or search and rescue robots have a purpose, they do not belong walking (or rolling) along the beat. From the beginning the job has been for humans who were looking out for other humans and there should be no reason to change that now. The term “Protect and Serve” that is so often quoted by police departments on their uniforms and crests isn’t just a saying: it is a way of life, a promise, and a signal that if you need them they will be there to help protect you and keep you safe against physical and in some ways mental or emotional threats, both foreign and domestic.

Work Cited:

Gladwell, Malcolm. Blink: The Power of Thinking without Thinking. New York: Little, Brown, 2005. Print

Hornyak, Tim. “Your Move, Creep: Researchers Building RoboCop Policeman.” CNET. CNET, 28 Sept. 2012. Web. 29 Oct. 2014.

“Important Dates in Law Enforcement History.” National Law Enforcement Officers Memorial Fund: N.p., 14 Apr. 2014. Web. 30 Nov. 2014.