There is not one single police officer in America that I am not

Hear the searing cry of Henry Rollins, artist, musician, and unflinching critic of power: “There is not one single police officer in America that I am not afraid of and not one that I would trust to tell the truth or obey the laws they are sworn to uphold. I do not believe they protect me in any way.” In these words burns the fire of disillusionment, the lament of one who sees the guardians of order not as shield-bearers of the people, but as a force of fear, hypocrisy, and betrayal. Rollins speaks not with the calmness of philosophy, but with the anguish of one who feels abandoned by those who claim to stand for justice.

The meaning of this quote is piercing: when those entrusted to enforce the laws lose the trust of the people, the very foundation of society crumbles. For the relationship between citizen and police officer must be rooted not in terror, but in confidence. To live in fear of those sworn to protect is to live in chains, even if no prison walls surround you. Rollins declares that he cannot see in them safety or truth, but only the threat of power unrestrained. Whether his judgment is hyperbolic or experiential, it embodies the cry of many who feel that justice has become corrupted and that authority has become an oppressor rather than a servant.

The origin of these words is grounded in Rollins’ lifelong outspokenness against abuse of power. As a punk musician and cultural commentator, he often gave voice to those who felt silenced or crushed beneath institutions. His words here reflect the broader context of public outcry against police brutality in America, especially toward marginalized communities. In this light, his statement is not only personal but emblematic of a larger fracture between people and authority, a fracture born of repeated wounds and unhealed mistrust.

History itself reveals the truth of this anguish. Recall the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s, when men, women, and even children who marched peacefully for dignity were met with clubs, fire hoses, and dogs unleashed by officers sworn to uphold the law. To those who stood on the streets of Selma or Birmingham, the uniform was not a symbol of protection, but of terror. In such moments, Rollins’ words echo across time, showing how easily authority can betray its noble purpose and instead become the very thing it claims to guard against.

Yet we must also remember that authority corrupted is not the only story. History offers examples of those within systems of power who chose conscience over conformity. Consider the police officers in Nazi Germany who refused orders to execute innocents, or the officers during apartheid who quietly aided resisters. Though few, their courage proves that even within institutions marred by cruelty, there can arise those who honor truth. And so Rollins’ despair, while valid, must also remind us of the urgent need to reform, to call forth the better angels of humanity even within systems of force.

The lesson for us is this: trust is the lifeblood of society, and once lost, it is harder to restore than stone once shattered. Those in authority must remember that their power is not their own—it is lent to them by the people, and it is bound by sacred responsibility. If they wield it with cruelty, they destroy not only their victims but their own legitimacy. And for the people, the path is vigilance and courage: to demand accountability, to lift their voices, to ensure that laws are more than words, but living shields for all.

Therefore, children of the future, let Rollins’ cry awaken you. Do not accept a world where fear replaces trust, where uniforms symbolize danger rather than safety. Work for a society where authority is transparent, where justice is impartial, and where protection is given freely to all, not wielded selectively. Begin in small acts—speak truth to power, defend the voiceless, demand reforms that root out corruption. For a nation is only as just as the conduct of those who enforce its laws.

So remember always: when the people fear those meant to protect them, tyranny is near. But when those in power win back the trust of the people through honesty, humility, and accountability, then justice breathes again. Let this be your work: to build not a system of fear, but one of truth, dignity, and lasting peace.