Minneapolis police take first steps toward consent decree reforms: Rebuilding trust

One week into his tenure as Minneapolis Police Chief, Brian O'Hara sought to deliver a blunt message on reform.

"The reality is: we have earned it," he said last fall of an impending federal consent decree seeking to overhaul the embattled department. "Policing as a profession has earned it. The cities where this happens, there is good reason — it's because of our behavior."

A line of police supervisors listening from the back of that crowded meeting room last fall understood the subtext: change was coming.

But implementing such a court-enforceable agreement — or two — will be a heavy and expensive lift that takes many years. This spring, MPD laid the foundation of that process by creating a new Implementation Unit, tasked with overseeing sweeping reforms required by the Minnesota Department of Human Rights (MDHR) in the aftermath of George Floyd's murder.

Once fully staffed, three sworn officers and roughly two dozen civilian analysts will work to ensure compliance of those efforts alongside an independent evaluator. For now, police officials are soliciting feedback on a range of department policies, including use of force, on the city's website and during a series of community engagement sessions.

The entire endeavor is centered on rebuilding trust.

"My one goal here is to be an ear to listen," said Cmdr. Yolanda Wilks, a 15-year veteran of the force whom O'Hara picked to run the unit. "We may at some time get off topic because of the hurt that the community has experienced ... but I'm in it for the long haul."

Separate state and federal probes found that the Minneapolis Police Department engaged in a pattern and practice of discriminatory policing that deprived citizens of their constitutional rights. Both investigations cited deficient training and lax supervisory review for failing to hold problem officers accountable.

The MDHR settlement agreement, unanimously approved by City Council members in March, provides a roadmap for how the agency can rein in misconduct by restricting aggressive tactics, bolstering police accountability systems and supporting officers' wellness.

The legal agreement is expected to last at least four years. An anticipated consent decree by the U.S. Department of Justice, which has yet to be finalized, could span upward of a decade.

Managing those dual reform efforts will cost an estimated $16 million in 2024 and $11 million in 2025. "Change isn't cheap," Mayor Jacob Frey said in the annual budget address this week.

In recent months, Wilks' team has traveled to Baltimore, Chicago and Albuquerque to learn how those police departments have navigated their own federal monitorships. She discovered that buy-in was often slow — both by residents and sworn officers — until the process revealed shared goals.

Civilian analysts in Albuquerque, for example, played a major role in crunching crime data, identifying trends that allowed the city to make informed decisions on where to dispatch mental health crisis responders rather than armed officers.

Wilks, one of only six Black women in the department, speaks passionately about shaping the future of policing in Minneapolis. Floyd's killing made her question whether she'd chosen the right profession, and at several points she contemplated turning in her badge.

"I felt like giving up," she said, recalling the stress of 2020. Close friends accused her of being part of a racist system. The uniform felt different. "That was a lot of weight for every one of us to carry."

But Wilks said she ultimately stuck it out on behalf of community members and crime victims she encountered on the job, some of whom pleaded with her to stay.

Public weighs in

Around 100 residents packed into the Public Service Building downtown on Tuesday night, eager to share their input on how to revamp department policies and improve oversight.

"For me, this is kind of déjà vu," said O'Hara, who was confirmed last fall in large part due to his experience helping lead Newark, N.J., through a federal consent decree. He hopes to replicate that success here.

"We want to have a policy that reflects community values and training that is realistic, so that our officers understand it and are able to actually apply it in situations," he continued. "We are going to raise the bar."

They began with a short presentation outlining MPD's three distinct levels of force, which range from things like wrist locks and pressure point compliance that don't result in injury, to use of a Taser or baton, to critical incidents that cause grave injuries or death.

Wilks explained that the core principle for the agency's use of force policy remains the sanctity of life.

At one point, a woman in the audience jumped to her feet and demanded to know how written guidelines would prevent officers from disproportionately using force against people of color— as outlined in the scathing MDHR and DOJ reports.

"How can we train someone to not be a racist?" she asked. "To not shoot first and ask questions [later]?"

O'Hara acknowledged that implicit bias still exists in policing, but assured attendees that this reform effort was intended to develop training tools that ensure force is not used against anyone "unless it is absolutely necessary."

He vowed to go beyond what the MDHR agreement requires by creating a Force Investigations team within the newly restructured Internal Affairs Bureau, staffed with some civilian investigators to help review supervisory reports of how force was used in the field. O'Hara also pointed to his decision to eliminate the "hobble," a controversial restraint technique, from the department's manual.

In small group discussions, attendees weighed how to improve transparency around disciplinary decisions and ultimately weed out bad behavior.

Some criticized the city for presenting a series of vague questions, rather than soliciting feedback on an existing or draft use of force policy that the public never got an opportunity to review. Others noted that the online submission form capped comments at just 200 words.

Stacey Gurian-Sherman, a local attorney who serves on the new Minneapolis police oversight panel, called the meeting a "dog and pony show."

"This was to make the city and MPD feel good about themselves," she said.

Police officials took some of that feedback to heart. On Wednesday night, at the second scheduled community meeting in Northeast Minneapolis, half a dozen binders filled with the current 72-page Use of Force policy waited on the table for those wishing to view them.

And in her revised preamble, Wilks announced that she worked with the city's Information Technology staff to raise the word count on the online feedback form to 500 words.

"I want you to know that I heard you," she told the crowd.

A list of upcoming community engagement sessions can be found on the city website. Future meetings will focus on policies on stops, searches and arrests, as well as non-discriminatory policing.