Andy Manis
Cheri Maples in 2003, the year she organized a week-long retreat for criminal justice professionals with Thich Nhat Hanh, the Vietnamese monk.
Cheri Maples was fond of referring to police officers as “social workers with guns.” It was a typically astute observation. Police are thrown into all manner of difficult situations — involving domestic disputes, mental illness, arguments, accidents, kids — that require boundless amounts of patience and tact. At the same time, they are empowered to use deadly force. Maples, who died Thursday morning at age 64, 10 months after a catastrophic bicycle accident, spent much of her life navigating the perils of these two worlds. She had a law degree as well as a master’s in social work. She made good use of both sets of skills.
Maples was a tough cop who rose up the ranks to become a captain in the Madison Police Department, spending two decades on the force. She was also a lesbian, vegetarian and Buddhist who cofounded the Center for Mindfulness and Justice in 2009. On the day before she died, of a systemic infection, she remarked, “I have lived such a good life.”
If there was a single thread that held together the strands of Maples’ personality, it was courage. When others were afraid — for their careers, their reputations, their relationships — Maples focused on doing what she thought was right.
In 2001, Maples was one of the first police officers to publicly admit that her department committed an epic injustice when it badgered a rape victim into recanting. She apologized to the victim, a Madison woman named Patty, over the objections of her department.
“I was wrong and your case will always serve as an important reminder to me that the police are not infallible and holding us accountable in a democratic society is extremely important,” Maples wrote Patty in a letter. “I can only imagine the additional trauma you were put through after being sexually assaulted and then … not being believed by the police officers and supervisors charged with investigating your case. Words will never be able to convey how sorry I am.”
What makes Maples’ action all the more remarkable is that she had previously gone to great lengths to defend the officers involved. But when DNA evidence substantiated Patty’s account, ultimately leading to her assailant’s conviction, Maples stepped forward to accept responsibility. That was a far cry from some other members of the MPD, who never admitted error or apologized.
Maples also displayed courage in publicly criticizing the culture of the state Department of Corrections, for which she worked first as an employee and then as a consultant after leaving the Madison police force. In 2006, she told Isthmus that innovation was not encouraged within the DOC, and press contacts were too tightly monitored: “Everything was designed to protect the governor from any potential bad publicity.”
A few days later, Maples’ consulting role was eliminated. The DOC claimed there was no connection, even though then-Secretary Rick Raemisch told the paper that Maples, in making her comments, apparently “doesn't care much for the DOC.”
But that was the thing about Cheri Maples: She critiqued and challenged the institutions for which she worked precisely because she cared about them deeply.
Another display of Maples’ great courage came following the fatal 2012 shooting of an unarmed inebriated man, Paul Heenan, by MPD officer Stephen Heimsness. While the department circled its wagons around Heimsness, who was later drummed out of the force for “unrelated” reasons, Maples looked at the situation and pronounced the obvious: It didn’t have to happen, and it should not have.
“Let’s do the right thing and get officer Heimsness off the street,” Maples remarked in a talk on the shooting, according to a report in The Capital Times. True to form, she saw it as an opportunity for positive things to happen.
“What I'm hoping is that it can be another step toward building bridges between the community and the police department,” Maples said, as quoted in Isthmus. “I’m hoping that that will be Paulie Heenan’s legacy — some real change and cooperation between the police department and the community that it serves.”
In 2015, after another officer shot and killed Tony Robinson, an unarmed biracial teenager, Maples told Isthmus that officers need to be taught to “use the minimum amount of force required.” Speaking in general and not on the Robinson case in particular, Maples said “That doesn’t mean deadly force wouldn’t be the minimum level you’d start with in certain situations. But when using force you can always go up the ladder, but you can’t go down.”
In an 2008 interview with Isthmus writer David Medaris, Maples drew on her 20-year career as a Madison cop to put the challenge of policing into perspective. She noted that police “have to be held accountable,” but also that constant scrutiny puts officers on the defensive.
Taking the long view, Maples reflected on the arc of her life.
“My aspirations are mindfulness, peace and justice, and that, as far as I’m concerned, leads to everything that matters to me personally, because all of that leads to loving better, to patience and generosity,” she told Medaris.
Later in the interview, Maples offered a description of herself as “just a person struggling to find my way and help other people find their way.” And to a remarkable extent, armed with her uncommon courage, she succeeded.
A memorial service for Maples will be held on Tuesday, Sept. 26, at the First Unitarian Society of Madison, 900 University Bay Drive, 7 p.m. And, in Maples' honor, friends intend to live-stream a sold-out daylong meditation retreat led by Sharon Salzberg at the Goodman Center on Aug. 26.
