Where are the protests and calls for change when a cop is killed?

I’ve always been entertained by tabloids when they show larger-than-life celebrities doing mundane tasks like walking their dogs and grocery shopping because it ultimately shows us that no matter our profession or notoriety, we’re all just people; flawed and all.

Americans need to have that same epiphany when it comes to police officers in this country — realizing they are just like me and you. They’re people trying to do the best they can to live up to the rightly high standards set upon them while dealing with the daily paranoia of not making it home to see their families because they were protecting yours.

That fear comes to fruition far more often than we’re comfortable with acknowledging. And unfortunately this was the tragic outcome for Officer Adeed Fayaz.

Fayaz, a 26-year-old husband and father of two children, Rayan, 4, and Zayan, 3, was killed allegedly by Randy “Popper” Jones, a career criminal, after being shot in the head during a botched robbery attempt in East New York.

Fayaz had arranged to buy a car on Facebook Marketplace, and his brother-in-law went with him. The suspect pulled out his gun “almost immediately” after the two arrived at the scene and “announced a robbery,” Assistant Police Chief Michael Baldassano told reporters Saturday night. The off-duty officer drew his firearm as well, and the two exchanged gunfire, police and sources told The Post.

As New York’s finest, Mayor Eric Adams and other politicians showed up en masse to pay their respects, I can’t help but feel that gut-wrenching déjà vu of tragedy pessimism; it’s just all too familiar.

It’s the repetitious nature of witnessing something tragic enough to get the public’s attention, the minimal effort by politicians to express sorrow for the loss of the innocent while the cameras are focused on them, and then everyone carrying on with the rest of their lives while doing nothing of substance to prevent another family from being destroyed.

Likely, in a couple of weeks, everyone will move on and forget all about how Fayaz’s boys no longer have a father to confide in and mimic as they mature, and we’ll lose sight of Fayaz’s widow as she mourns the loss of her other half and the pillar of their family.

There won’t be a nationwide ritualistic tour in a golden casket to highlight the injustice of government negligence post-reforms because dead cops aren’t marketable for empathy. We won’t use Fayaz’s murder as a bookmark in time when we rallied together to push for harsher punishment against repeat offenders, because we’re only comfortable with rallying against police officers, not on behalf of them.

Organized protests by outraged citizens for reforms in honor of Fayaz’s memory would only happen in a hallucination state because we’re only supposed to protest if Fayaz killed Jones, not vice versa. State and local politicians will develop a sudden case of amnesia when Fayaz’s name is spoken because they only remember the names of people they can feature in fundraising emails — and deceased cops are hard to sell to the donor class.

As much as we implore people to become more empathetic about the plight of others, we don’t encourage this behavior toward anyone who’s carrying a badge. We let the horror stories of fringe immoral officers become the acceptable narrative for them all, yet we would be rightly scolded if we used this same logic of harsh judgment of the whole due to the actions of the few for any other demographic.

The job everyone has such strong opinions on how to masterfully work in is also the job no one wants to do. We’re not supposed to admit this highly scrutinized, immensely stressful, hazardous occupation isn’t worth it for most of us because it would expose how brave very few of us are who would routinely put ourselves in danger to help others, including me.

If we’re not interested in advocating for change on behalf of Officer Fayaz, can we advocate for change in memory of Rayan’s and Zayan’s father instead?

Adam B. Coleman is the author of “Black Victim to Black Victor” and founder of Wrong Speak Publishing. Follow him on Substack: adambcoleman.substack.com.