"No, he definitely was not the one I imagined to become a cop," his mother says in a high pitch meant to convey surprise and a bit of cynicism. "He was my baby, but he sure did get into his share of trouble," she continues almost in a nostalgic tone.
If you ask Navedo, he will tell you the same thing.
"No way! If someone told me that I would grow up to become a police officer, I would have laughed in their face," he says appearing amused. "I thought I was tough growing up. I gave the cops a run for their money!"
But he is a cop. Everyday, Officer Rey Navedo of the 67th precinct, gets up at 5 a.m. to "serve and protect" the residents of East Flatbush, Brooklyn.
"Yeah, let me tell you. It ain’t no easy job," he says in what some would describe to be the official NYPD accent. (It sounds like a mix of the characters from "NYPD Blue" and "Goodfellas.") "People don’t respect us."
Navedo begins speaking as though he can read minds. "I know, I know. You want to know why [I] do it?" he mockingly asks. "Because it’s good work. Better than any other job I had. At them other jobs I felt low, like I had no dignity."
Before Navedo became "Officer Rey Navedo," he was just a "regular" kid growing up on the tough streets of Rockaway, Queens. The youngest of six kids, he always wanted to carve out an identity for himself. He endured a stay in foster care while his parents tried to get on their feet. Navedo moved out of his parents’ house the year he turned legal. He tried odd job after odd job to make ends meet.
"I just needed something to pay the bills, you know?"
He eventually got a two-year degree in Liberal Arts from Borough of Manhattan Community College in 1998. It was then that he decided to become a police officer.
"Hey, I decided to try. I was 25. I needed to do something," he said.
About eight years later, here he sits. Boots shining. Badge proudly displayed. Gun secured in holster. "NYPD" written on his collar.
However Navedo might have started out, he is clearly a man now. Or at least, that is the message that his uniform sends. There must be something outstanding about him, if he is entrusted to wear the honorable blue everyday.
"It is not like what you see on T.V. Huh, please," Navedo says in a manner that lets you know he is fed up.
"I get tired of people thinking that it is 100% action, 100% glamour, 100% glory. Some days, you are just sitting around doin’ paperwork," he says. "Most of the time, I just ride around in an unmarked car or chill in the van with a bunch of other cops…we just add our ‘police presence.’"
He quickly adds, "Then there are the days you do give it your all. But there ain’t no person following with a camera."
Navedo is most likely referring to a few months ago when he dislocated his shoulder while running after a group of "thugs." He took a fall after climbing over a gate, and has been on desk-duty since returning to work.
"It is just like any other job. You have ups. You have downs," he says as he strokes his neatly cropped, dark hair. "I quickly learned that when I got on the force."
One of those "downs" was when two officers from his precinct got killed a couple of years ago. A mentally ill man grabbed one of the officers’ guns while he was being arrested.
"Yeah, that was rough," he says looking away. "I knew those guys. They were good guys. I feel for their families."
Navedo recently attended the ceremony in which a street was dedicated to the slain officers.
"You always think that there is a possibility of that happening, but…" he says as his voice trails off. It is stories like these that make Navedo think about a change of pace.
"I actually might want to settle down someday," he says. "No guy just wants to eat Chinese food alone in front of the T.V. every night. A family of my own would be nice."
But it does not appear that Navedo will be settling down anytime soon. He is already rejoicing that his desk-duty will be ending soon.
"I can’t wait to get back out there. I am so bored," he moans.
Navedo’s friends describe him as fearless.
"He may be a little guy, but don’t be fooled," says his best friend and one-time partner, Joseph. "He can hang with the best of ‘em." (Navedo is "little" by our society’s standards. He stands a little over 5 feet 6 inches tall.)
"Don’t underestimate me because of that," he warns. "Many people have been wrong." He laughs, waving his index finger.
In an odd way, he summed up his life in those two sentences. Navedo grew up in the "ghetto" as he calls it. He saw many friends either die in the street, or go to jail. Yet, he never underestimated himself. Navedo created the identity that he longed for as a kid.
When brought to his attention, he laughs."Yeah, I guess I have proved people wrong…the cops that used to bother me when I was comin’ up." He pauses for a second, "Hell, I guess I even proved myself wrong. Huh, who knew I‘d end up on this side of the law."
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