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falllingstyles · 4 years ago

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Spreading you open is the only way of knowing you

Y/N isn’t quite ready to be with Harry the way he wants, resulting in many nights of unspoken words and sweaty bodies.

2.5k words // TW: mentions of sex and minor mistreatment (can’t exactly call it abuse but it wasn’t love or an appropriate relationship)

The cacophony of noise from the city below was no match for what had echoed from the walls of Y/N’s flat for the past twenty minutes. She was sure she would be quite embarrassed to see her neighbors the next morning with the noises that were undoubtedly loud enough to be heard through the walls. She was even more embarrassed by the thought of them not even being phased anymore. But her discomfort was worthwhile as they all kept their mouths closed.

The sight of Harry Styles frequenting her front door was something they saw quite often, and the shock of a massive celebrity leaving out the same door the next morning had worn off over the past few years. Meeting the year of his second to last tour with One Direction, the two had grown close behind closed green room doors and over long phone calls. But it wasn’t until he left the band that Y/N had noticed a change between them. It was quite crazy to think of how that change let them to their position now.

Y/N laid on her bed, basking in the shadow that Harry’s body created, watching his chest rise and fall as he slowly fell back onto the sheets. Taking one last moment to right himself, he ran his hands through his hair, despite it being far too obviously unkempt to pass as simply bedhead. After seeing his hair look so many different ways over the years, his hair after her hands ran through it was easily the best looking, but she’d never admit it.

He looked down at her, finding her stare within seconds as he always did. His eyes had become such a comfort, that it was hard to picture a night without them roaming over her body like they had done for years now.

His smile, ever-present, was different. His eyebrows slightly furrowed, Y/N could tell he was thinking hard. Struggling to find the words he was searching for, Y/N simply ran her hands along his bicep, hoping it would bring him some solace.

“I’ve, uh, got to go to Bath next week to work on something I wrote a little bit ago.”

Y/N perked up. “A song! You’ve written a song!”.

He giggled a bit, “Well it is my job.” The nerves washed over him again, the song he had written wasn't something he really wanted to have to explain to her. The inspiration coming after a difficult night they had spent together while on a break from his first tour. “But, me and some guys found a great studio there and I think it’d be nice to hash it out with them.”

Y/N propped he head up now, closer to Harry’s lips than he thought he could handle. “For a second album?” She whispered, trying to hide her excitement at the possibility.

Trying his best to conceal the truth - behind both the prospect of a second album or the fact that it was entirely thanks to her - but ultimately failing, Harry nodded. Y/N didn’t even bother to cover herself up, leaping from her position under the sheets to straddle Harry, whispering about her excitement.

He lifted her off his torso and more onto his chest, with the anterior motive of not being able to handle another round of her body atop his waist, and basked in her excitement.

“That’s wonderful Harry, I'm so happy for you. How fun! A new album, more pretty suits, more touring.”

“Maybe you’ll come along for more of it this time”. He asked apprehensive, not being able to muster the courage to look into her eyes.

Y/N moved further from his body, letting out a small laugh. “Me?”

“Me?”

It was obviously not the response he was expecting to hear, such was evident in his rapidly falling smile.

“Who else?” He asked slowly.

“A real date?”, she asked.

“Yeah,” He said, his confidence from only a few moments earlier almost completely gone, “At the place Ben was telling us about.”

“That restaurant is always jam-packed with people, I don’t think-”.

“We don’t have to go to that restaurant, there’s a nice trail-”.

“A trail? Harry, I’m not quite sure I could...”

Fumbling over every word made the thoughts race through her head even faster. Not a single cohesive idea was around long enough before the fear of being seen shot it down. The cameras, the fans, the press. She could see the headlines now, ones calling her a slag and a gold digger, the posts making assumptions about her and her relationship with Harry. Comparing her to his past girlfriends, the girls with ultra-slim waists and perfect pouts.

“It’s alright we don’t have to do anything big, I just wanted to-.” He muttered whilst reaching out to caress her thigh. A nervous habit she noticed he had over the past two months since she met him.

“No, we can’t do anything.” She said louder, cutting him off again. Her breathing became heavier, and the feeling of his eyes on her was unbearable.

The ‘anything’ that he was referring to was a broad range, one in which they both were scared to breach the subject of. Admit that they had both thought of some sort of future together, in which all their worries melted away with a simple touch. A future full of late nights and hectic mornings, picking children up from school, eating a big dinner, and asking how their days went. A future that started with a date, and led to many many more.

After a long pause, filled only with the sound of their heavy breaths, he whispered; “You don’t want to go out on a date with me?

“I can’t”, Y/N choked out.

“You don’t want to be with me?” She could see the tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“I do, I just can’t”. Just the same as she couldn’t tell him how deeply in love with him, that every beat of her heart was for him. She loved him, but what came with his heart wasn’t something she could carry.

“Nobody has to know, no one but our friends. I know you don’t like the paparazzi but-“

“What kind of relationship would that be! We just fuck in private and pretend we don’t know each other in public?”

Funnily enough, it was exactly what they ended up doing. When you researched ‘Y/N L/N’ online all that came up was her name and photo from the ‘about us’ page of the production company she worked for, just as she liked it.

If you really looked hard enough in the foreground of a few photos of Harry taken at restaurants or beaches you could spot her, but her face among their sea of friends wasn’t one worth recognizing. Despite Harry saying otherwise. He didn’t often pay attention to the people who called themselves fans of his when they picked apart the photos transpiring from invasive cameras with too bright flashes. But when some would pick up on a glance between the two of them, a grappling of hands, or a stolen smile he couldn’t help but dwell on it. He understood what simply being seen with him brought upon her, but is he too optimistic for thinking she’d ever be willing to endure it for him?

It was easy for Y/N to ignore the fact that their relationship, or whatever it was called, had become exactly what she didn’t want it to be. The moments in which she would look at him and wonder what it is they were doing would end as his lips would be on hers in an instant.

It wasn’t that they didn’t have anything else to do, they spent a very long time as nothing more than friends and they undoubtedly had fun. Being able to wander the halls of arenas, gorging on expensive foods in restaurant back rooms, and jumping off yachts. Until things became - complicated - they never doubted their friendship. There were no secrets that they hadn’t whispered to each other under the cover of a starry night. Or so they thought.

Y/N couldn’t believe what they had done, not that she could bring herself to fully regret it, but having sex with her best friend for the past three months - even after she turned him down - was something she could never have imagined. She had sat at his kitchen island many times beforehand, but never after having just been underneath him. She watched as he meticulously placed the cheese for his quesadilla at the stove in front of her. He had insisted he make them a small meal after she had mentioned hardly eating much of a dinner.

Harry had always taken very good care of her, but this was different. He always paid for meals no matter Y/Ns resistance, invited her to parties with his hot shot friends, and gave her gifts she never felt she fully deserved. But this wasn’t something she had ever really had before, this realization being so profound that she told him. He grinned, now focusing on chopping the onions. The sizzling in the pan filled the kitchen, filling the void of silence that Y/N was debating breaking.

“Ryan was never so … gentle with me”.

The sizzling continued, but Harry paused. After Ryan had broken up with Y/N she had spent the proceeding two weeks at his flat watching shitty TV and crying into his shirts.

“Ryan wouldn't have made you a meal…. after?” Harry asked, not daring to breach the subject of what they had just done.

“I mean, sometimes he would but I’m talking about … when we…” Y/N felt like a child, she couldn’t say it. Couldn’t say a stupid word. Harry’s head whipped to her, an unrecognizable expression on his face. “He didn’t like … do anything” referring to one of her worst fears “but … sometimes I wasn’t able to tell him to loosen his grip or slow down when I needed him to.”

Harry had done everything she had told him to. When she asked him to change positions, he obliged without a second thought. Telling him where to put his hands, what she liked, and how fast to go. But not only could she feel his consideration with every stroke, but something else as well. Something that they shied away from at every second except for in bed.

He didn’t expect her to laugh at his question, after having spent so many nights hyping himself up to ask it. Trying to remind himself that Y/N was his friend and that he would take a question like that seriously (because she’s always taken his other serious questions with the reaction he’s hoped for in the past). He looked into her eyes, a pair that he thought of in the moments before he fell asleep. She quickly realized the seriousness in his face and moved a bit further across the bed. Despite not being able to make it far considering the mass of pillows along the edge.

Harry wanted nothing more than to reach out to her, but it was obvious at this point, six years into their friendship and three years into whatever it was they were doing now, that there was no point. Not unless she was underneath him could he evoke the reactions he wanted from her. The careless smiles of absolute bliss were like a secret he could only be privy to at night.

“I… I’m sorry Harry, you know that I ca-“

“You can't do what!? Y/N? You can’t…”

Y/N’s suddenly felt every inch of her body that was touching Harry’s, his torso underneath her, her feet at his thighs. Every inch burned. The affection that had just been pouring out of her, both emotionally and physically to both their delights, had suddenly run dry. There was nothing but unsaid words and rumpled sheets now, the passion long gone.

Y/N could never tell if what they had been doing for months was ruining their friendship, or that their friendship ended the second that he leaned in and kissed her that night in New York all those years ago.

Y/N could never understand how someone could ever say that the magic to being in New York City could ever be lost. She had lived in her apartment for a few months now, and it was easy to say that she loved it. A space to herself, if you ignored her three roommates of course. It was only temporary of course, being needed back in London in six months, but there was no way she was going to sit idly by and let those six months slip away.

Making her extra grateful to have Harry come visit. Y/N had fixed the creases on her comforter at least nine times before she received his text telling her he was on her way up. Sprinting past her roommate's doors and into their well-decorated foyer she stood excitedly waiting for him.

The second Harry stepped in before he even got a chance to look around - there was Y/N running toward him - she had a hard blazing look in her face as she threw her arms around him. And without thinking, without planning it, without worrying about the fact that the roommates he had heard plenty about were watching, Harry bent down and kissed her. After several long moments, or it might have been half an hour (or possibly several sunlit days) they broke apart.

The grin that had been on both of their faces only moments before was still plastered on their faces but now covered with cherry red lipstick. Lipstick that Y/N rushed to wipe off Harry’s soft lips as she slowed her breathing to avoid the person attached to the footsteps that were steadily growing louder.

But with each kiss, they communicated just what they couldn’t say out of bed. The words that they could hardly even dare to think, let alone say out loud. So when it came to conversations in the space they usually used for sex, it became difficult. Leading them to one of their two usual answers. Have sex, and if they already did, have sex again, but ultimately to leave and pretend like it hardly ever happened.

So, when Harry watched Y/N slowly crawl off the side of the bed, he could hardly force words to come out. Only being able to push a final “Why can’t you? Y/N? please.”

The tension grew stronger with each article of clothing Y/N put back on. She took her time meticulously fixing the hem of her shorts to ponder his question. Why? Why couldn’t she? But, she was already two steps from the door. Leaving the room that fostered the only space Harry and Y/N would truly allow themselves to be open.

I’ve never written for Harry before so go easy on me please! I really do like this though, it was a lot of fun!

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crayrate-blog · 6 years ago

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Reverse Lookup CA

Web dating has turned into a very well known approach to meet individuals, and has in reality brought a ton of forlorn people together. In any case, only one out of every odd date turns out like an eHarmony promotion. So in recognition of Valentine's Day, we counseled perusers, companions, a couple of specialists, and various destinations (quite Craigslist Personals) to accumulate the most entertaining, weirdest, and most horrendous web based dating stories we could discover. Desolate individuals, broken hearts, false cases, dashed desires, doctored photographs, bailouts, and no-shows– it's everything part of the internet dating knowledge, and we uncovered a tad bit of everything.

"Beth" from Portland, Oregon, posted this note at a web based dating website:

Web based dating can deliver a portion of the most noticeably awful dates ever. The last person I went out with brought a sock puppet– a sock puppet– on our date and attempted to converse with me with it. To be charming, I think. Be that as it may, it cracked me out. Truly. Perhaps I'm out-dated, however no sock manikins, please.The old mid-date vanishing act has taken on an entirely different utility in the period of Internet dating. Display An originates from "Jill" in the San Francisco Bay Area, who posted the accompanying on Craigslist:

I get an advertisement from a person generally my age who has a hot bicycle, and a few pics demonstrating he's genuinely appealing. We email forward and backward a bit, he says he's certainly searching for a similar thing, lastly we consent to meet at a bistro. The main thing I perceived was the bicycle. He took after his pics the manner in which Stuart Little looks like Mickey Mouse. His teeth were dark, totally sickening, and he had a blister adjacent to one side eye. He must be 10 to 15 years more seasoned than me… . That, yet I got the unmistakable impression that he by and by knew where a couple of bodies were covered.

I couldn't resist. I expanded. At that point I couldn't take a gander at him by any means. I flipped the pages of the magazine I had gotten instance of absent and looked at him occasionally, considering how the [expletive removed] was I going to remove myself from this. So he says he will get an espresso. Also, heads inside. That was his first oversight. Leaving my espresso and magazine, and scarcely setting aside effort to grab up my satchel, I put my mobile phone to my ear like I had recently gotten a crisis call and truly pulled ass down the road to my vehicle before he returned out. Karma says I am going to pay for that. Fine.

Caroline Presno, dating master and creator of Profiling Your Date: A Smart Woman's Guide to Evaluating a Man, says online daters are now and then seen as powerless to meet individuals as it was done in the good 'ol days, as are some way or another "harmed merchandise." She relates this model:

An alluring, 30-year-old female instructor was truly anticipating her first gathering with a lawyer she had been messaging for some time. Be that as it may, on the date, before the server even brought the water, the person stated, "So how about we get down to it, what's up with you?"Jayne Hitchcock, Reverse Lookup CA a cybercrime master from York, Maine, reveals to us she's currently connected with to a kindred she met on True.com while doing research for her book, Net Crimes and Misdemeanors. Be that as it may, she says, she needed to kiss a couple of frogs before at last discovering her ruler.

On some internet dating locales, Hitchcock says, if a part needs to express fascination for another part in the wake of perusing their profile, yet without heading off to the outrageous of sending them an email, they can send an electronic "wink." "I was immersed with winks and messages in my True inbox," Hitchcock says. "I am dead serious when I state 'immersed.' Over 2000 individuals saw my profile. Of those, at any rate half were winks." Usually, however, what the winks really mean is: "I saw your image and I believe you're hot, yet I'm too apathetic to even think about reading your profile and it costs me nothing to simply give you a wink in case you think my thinning up top head is hot, or that no doubt about it."

You'd figure the obscurity of online communication would make it simpler for folks to put on a show of being smooth and in charge. Be that as it may, the inverse is frequently the situation. That equivalent namelessness appears to give a few men a permit to be impolite degenerates. "One person came directly out in the headline of his message and let me realize he needed to meet me and do 'awful things' to me," Hitchcock reports. "Another guaranteed he was a genuine cowhand in New Mexico and needed to have intercourse with me without any protection on his pony. Oy."

From Russia With LoveLoneliness can be abused, as some desolate hearts in the United States have discovered. The Web website of the U.S. international safe haven in Moscow has some a word of wisdom for Americans who think they've met their online match in Russia, and keep running into inconvenience. From the Q&A page, here are two of the issues that can manifest in such intercontinental sentiments.

The individual I'm writing to says that s/he needs $1,000.00 to appear for "stash cash" or the carrier won't let him/her get onto the plane. Is this valid?

(The Embassy reacts that this minx from Minsk isn't required to "appear" one penny to travel.)

I think I have been misled. I have sent this individual $2,000.00 and now I discover his/her visa is a phony. How would I recover my cash?

("Intense ****," the Embassy answers, essentially.)

For some long-lasting Internet daters, the names, actualities, faces, and interests of responders to their profiles start to run together. What's more, the constrained innovativeness of many dating-site individuals doesn't improve the situation. "John" from Chicago posted this "Open Letter to Match.com Girls":

Stop. Simply stop. You're irritating me. Above all else, your screen name. Quit placing "cheeky" into your screen name. Quit placing "citygirl" into your screen name. While enlisting, in the event that you endeavored to utilize "cubfan" as your screen name and it returned revealing to you that you'd need to make due with "cubfan57836," that ought to have been your first piece of information that you have picked a disgustingly predictable name. You are not sufficiently astute to consider something great, along these lines you ought not hope to be combined with somebody who is. Talking about Cub fans, quit saying you adore sports and that you "demonstration simply like a guy."And the equivalent is valid for the men. From Jayne Hitchcock: "I began to trim the rundown somewhere near erasing those with eyebrow-raising or out and out tragic screen names, for example, minor departure from 'loverboy,' 'mr. sentimental,' 'desolate person,' 'forlorn one,' 'kiss me,' 'genuine romance MD,' 'huggy bear,' 'party man,' 'hot upndown,' etc.– I am not making these up– and titles, for example, 'Hello there Beautiful,' 'Goodness!' 'Greetings Baby Pretty,' 'Hi, cutie,' and 'Me wink; you answer.'"

The Onion's Online Dating Tips offer this recommendation: Set yourself separated by picking an enlightening client name like SocialRetard342, CuteFaceFatAss, or RohypnolLarry.

"Sarah" from New York likewise come down her online dates to a couple of particular sorts. Here's one from her Craigslist post:

No. 6: Mr. EZ-Pass (Key Phrase: "I'm only a bounce, skip, and a hop far from New York City.") He persuaded me that the separation would not be an issue, that he went to the city regularly, so I said OK with certain reservations. Getting together for date #1 was an Act of Congress; he continued endlessly about the train plans. At that point he counterbalanced on date #2. He persuaded that he lived somewhere close in Jersey like Hoboken; turns out he was in Jersey okay… the piece of Jersey that is close to the Pennsylvania border.People all things considered, sizes, and financial foundations are searching for adoration on the web. Here's a post-date story from "mysterious" at Internetdatingtales.com:

I am 40 to 50 pounds overweight, yet I spoke the truth about it. This man was 5-feet-9 and said something most likely around 300 pounds. Be that as it may, alright, my concept of a bit [overweight] and his concept of a bit may fluctuate. So I wave at him and over he comes. I felt awful that I had sat outside, in light of the fact that despite the fact that it was a gentle day and there was an umbrella, he was before long perspiring like a jackass. Furthermore, the appeal, mind, and silliness he had on the telephone was … gone.

He muttered and squirmed, however continued seeing me like I was a glass of water and he was on the last part of a long stroll through the desert. So I did it. I am so embarrassed about myself, however all things considered, what else would I be able to do? I was certain each other arranged meeting had briskly dumped him. What's more, I realized he was a decent person, just not the person for me. I purposely embarked to sicken him. I began to chuckle excessively uproarious at the unfunny things he said. And after that, and I can scarcely type this, I really put my deliver my armpit, hauled it out, and sniffed it.

Shouldn't something be said about me? Here's my own (really my just) fascinating internet dating background. I was in school. In another city, Chicago, desolate, and cold. Her name was Bonnie, and her image on Nerve.com looked charming, even dainty. After a couple of talkative email notes, we set up a gathering at an elitist lager joint in Lincoln Park. I arrived first, sat at the bar, and requested a lager. Those minutes prior to your date shows up are priceless– my brain begun hustling a bit, I could nearly hear a low drum roll. Furthermore, there she was– she strolled in, sat down, requested a brew. The tattoo on her neck wasn't noticeable in her online picture. She looked somewhat unpleasant around the edges, Bonnie did. Intense, really. She was about my tallness or somewhat taller, and she was built– and I don't mean implicit a girly way, I mean she appeared as though she could seat press about twice my weight.

She requested another brew. What's more, one more and again. Her cool, disconnected mentality before long turned riotous and forceful. She lapped me a few times brew astute, and didn't appear to see, while peppering me with inquiries concerning past connections.

After around a hour I'd seen and sufficiently heard. When I easily asked off, asserting an investigation assemble meeting, she just took a gander at me blankly– at that point, I thought, a little menacingly. "Gracious, so you will get up and leave now, huh," she said.

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wandashifflett · 4 years ago

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Ford CEO Counters Employees’ Claim That Company ‘Perpetuated’ Systemic Racism, Responds to Anti-Cop Demand

It’s a particularly good day when I don’t come across an article that talks about The Great Reckoning

we’re all having. It isn’t just the general fatuousness of the targets; reckoning-centric articles usually are bloated exercises in faulty logic and stilted verbiage.

It’s always worse if the word “reckoning” is in a headline, so imagine my joy when I saw the Jalopnik piece “America’s Great Racial Reckoning Comes To The Auto Industry As Some Ford Employees Call For End Of Cop Car Manufacturing.”

It took us only two-plus months from the death of George Floyd to think that our first responders shouldn’t have vehicles.

Good work, America.

The article Wednesday by Aaron Foley is a relatively sprawling piece of opinion journalism, touching on a panoply of issues, from Henry Ford’s history of racist crankery to the company’s decision to move some of its workforce back into the city, a move some say will lead to gentrification. The story meanders a lot — it’s almost 3,000 words — and manages to be somewhat more interesting than your average reckoning piece.

TRENDING: Protesters Demand Cops Answer for ‘Injustice’ of Shooting Death, Police Release Footage Showing Suspect Fired First

Take that as you will.

The launching point for Foley’s piece is a letter being circulated for signatures at Ford’s headquarters. The letter implies that the undersigned want the company to exit the police vehicle market because the vehicles perpetuate systemic racism.

“On June 1st, you communicated to the company your commitment to ‘lead from the front and fully commit to creating the fair, just and inclusive culture that our employees deserve,’ ” the letter to Ford CEO Jim Hackett and company chairman Bill Ford read.

“We thank you for your leadership on this initiative. We also appreciate and fully support your statement against ‘superficial actions,’ and we write to push for real action by Ford Motor Company to address our role in the structures that perpetuate racism in society.

Should Ford exit the police car market?

“On May 25th, 2020 George Floyd was murdered by Minneapolis Police, alongside a Ford Police Interceptor. Days later, police officers drove Ford Police Interceptors into crowds of protesters in New York City and Los Angeles,” the letter continued. “During these past weeks, our vehicles have been used to deploy chemical weapons banned by the Geneva Convention.

“Throughout our history, the vehicles that Ford employees design and build have been used as accessories to police brutality and oppression. We know that while many join, support, or supply law enforcement with good intentions, these racist policing practices that plague our society are historic and systemic—a history and system perpetuated by Ford for over 70 years—ever since Ford introduced the first-ever police package in 1950. As an undeniable part of that history and system, we are long overdue to ‘think and act differently’ on our role in racism.”

These are all curious arguments when you consider police vehicles are, the vast majority of the time, not being “used as accessories to police brutality and oppression.”

When someone overdoses on fentanyl, police vehicles speed to the scene. When there’s a domestic abuse call, police vehicles go there. When there’s an armed robber involved in a chase with police on the highway, police cruisers chase them. I understand the current vogue for shifting police functions to social workers, but clearly this still means police would need cars — and someone needs to provide them.

Anyway, Hackett apparently found out about the letter and moved to nip it in the bud.

RELATED: Academics Try To Get Own Study Canned After It Finds Inconvenient Truth About Race & Police Shootings

“First, it should be clear both Bill Ford and I believe deeply that there is no room for the systemic repression and racism that have been exhibited by law enforcement encounters gone wrong,” Hackett said in a memo. “We’ve said clearly that Black Lives Matter, and I am personally driving a review of our Diversity and Inclusion rituals, practices and behaviors. We do believe strongly that more transparency and accountability is required in police operations.

“Second, we also believe the first responders that protect us play an extraordinarily important role in the vitality and safety of our society,” Hackett and Ford continued. “Our world wouldn’t function without the bravery and dedication of the good police officers who protect and serve. But safety of community must be inclusive of all members, and today, it is not.

“Holding these two thoughts together in one’s mind is possible, but now there is tension. It’s our belief the recent issues surfacing from the George Floyd tragedy are bringing a very intensive and necessary spotlight on police training and reform. In fact, I sit on the Business Roundtable, an organization comprised of CEOs from America’s leading companies, which has committed its shared energy to the work on police training and reform.”

Hackett’s memo went on to note Ford’s police vehicles are, well, effective. And that’s a good thing.

“It’s not controversial that the Ford Police Interceptor helps officers do their job,” Hackett wrote.

“The issues plaguing police credibility have nothing to do with the vehicles they’re driving. In fact, as we imagine the future power of our connected vehicles, smarter Ford vehicles can be used to not only improve officers’ ability to protect and serve, but also provide data that can make police safer and more accountable. Just think, dating back to the Model T, Ford has more than 100 years in serving first responders, and that leadership over the decades has been earned by co-developing our purpose-built vehicles and technologies with police and emergency agencies to make our vehicles the number one choice.

“By taking away our Police Interceptors, we would be doing harm to [the officers’] safety and making it harder for them to do their job. Again, this is why, given our insights, new capabilities and leadership, I believe these unfortunate circumstances present Ford with an even greater opportunity to not only innovate new solutions but also leverage our unique position to support the dialogue and reform needed to create safer communities for all.”

This was met with consternation by Foley, who wasn’t particularly happy with the idea of the police having more technology or with the wording Hackett used.

“I’m not a marketing whiz, but I am Black with common sense, and I don’t think it’s wise for Ford to try to ‘leverage’ deaths of Black people to make better police cars,” Foley wrote, which sounds like the opposite of the point Hackett was trying to make — the CEO seems to be saying the company’s position as the dominant force in the police vehicle market puts Ford in a unique position to influence our cultural discussion on policing.

It’s rare that a CEO gets it as right as Hackett did, “leverage” controversies and all. Someone is going to make police cars. Our police aren’t going anywhere, no matter how much the left wants to defund them or replace them with social workers. And, as long as the police exist, they aren’t going to respond to calls on bicycles.

There’s no particular win for social justice by making it harder for police to get vehicles or by not integrating technology in those vehicles. If done correctly, that arguably would make police more accountable.

And, yes, as Hackett says, “Our world wouldn’t function without the bravery and dedication of the good police officers who protect and serve.”

That’s an unpopular thing to say right now, which is why Hackett quickly qualified it by saying that “safety of community must be inclusive of all members, and today, it is not.” However, the first part was a pretty unequivocal statement not many are willing to make right now.

Foley seems to believe that “keeping police vehicles in production would certainly mean more tension between Black employees and management internally, and now, a negative image externally.”

There are several problems with that, including the idea that black people think monolithically about law enforcement. The biggest problem, however, is the idea that it would create a negative image externally.

Perhaps in the bubble of Jalopnik — part of the same group that runs liberal outlets like The Onion, Jezebel and The Root — that logic holds. I would guess that most people want police to be effective, however. The Ford employees who signed this letter don’t.

And at least for now, they’ve lost.

We are committed to truth and accuracy in all of our journalism. Read our editorial standards.

from Rayfield Review News https://therayfield.com/ford-ceo-counters-employees-claim-that-company-perpetuated-systemic-racism-responds-to-anti-cop-demand from The Ray Field https://therayfieldreview.tumblr.com/post/623491571146522624

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therayfieldreview · 4 years ago

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Ford CEO Counters Employees’ Claim That Company ‘Perpetuated’ Systemic Racism, Responds to Anti-Cop Demand

It’s a particularly good day when I don’t come across an article that talks about The Great Reckoning