David Yaffe-Bellany Photo
Haines hand out candy on the beat.
When two Newhallville cops approached him on the corner of Ivy and Newhall Streets, 12-year-old Cameron Thomas thought he was in trouble.
Instead, he was soon in Twizzlers and Smarties.
Officers Monique Moore and Mike Haines pulled Thomas aside Saturday afternoon as part of a new “cops and candy” initiative in Newhallville in which officers pass out sweets to local kids.
Thomas.
Thomas — who despite those run-ins still thinks “cops are cool” — had reason to fear punishment: He had encountered the same two officers just a few weeks earlier, after he ran away from home.
On Saturday Moore and Haines hadn’t come with handcuffs or harsh words. Instead they offered Thomas a bag stuffed with candy: Nerds, Twizzlers, Smarties, the works.
Top Newhallville cop Shafiq Abdussabur told the Independent that the candy initiative is designed to foster a positive relationship between cops and neighbors in an area that has a history of antagonism toward the police department. “A police officer bending down and smiling, and handing a bag of candy to a young person — that’s how we start building relationships,” Abdussabur said. “It doesn’t start in the aftermath of a tragedy. It starts with a good gesture.”
“We’re not giving candy to mom. We’re not giving candy to grandma. We’re not giving candy to Cousin Pookie who’s like 35,” Abdussabur said as he emptied a giant bag of Twizzlers onto his desk in the police substation. “You want to try to get the rough kids — the ones who never talk to us, and who we never see.”
Moore, who grew up in Newhallville and joined the police department three years ago, started bagging the candy. She stuffed one bag with more Twizzlers than it looked like it could hold.
Moore.
Moore never expected to become a police officer. She grew up on Winchester Avenue, in the heart of a community that has repeatedly clashed with the police department.
She became a cop, she said, out of a sense of duty to the neighborhood.
“I felt like New Haven needed more officers from the community,” Moore said. “I feel like I’m at home. I’m comfortable here.”
After Moore and Haines finished loading their car, they drove a few blocks to a makeshift water park replete with sprinklers and squirt guns that had attracted a small crowd. They passed out candy to dozens of children — most of them under 6 — scurrying beneath the sprinklers.
“I wish I had cops like y’all back in the day,” one onlooker yelled.
A small boy, no more than 3 years old, walked up to Haines with a lollypop hanging out of his mouth.
“You’re fun,” the boy said, smiling. “And funny.”
Haines shook his head and laughed.
“They’re so young, they don’t have the prejudice against us that the other ones have,” he said. “It’s good to catch them at an early age.”
At the water park, a crowd of boys, many of them waving water balloons, gathered around Haines and Moore to inspect their police belts.
At the water park.
One of the boys pointed to Moore’s holster. “What’s that?” he asked.
“You know what that is,” Moore replied.
“Police have guns,” another boy interrupted. “That’s how they get people.”
Moore and Haines got back into the car. It was hot outside. They had more candy to distribute, more local children to win over.
“We build a relationship with the kids, and eventually build a relationship with their parents,” Moore said.
The Cops and Candy Program would never receive the green light with Bloomberg or DeBlasio as the Mayor.