There's a cultural prejudice in many black neighborhoods.

The prejudice is against police.

Many residents don't trust them. They fear the officers will cause them trouble or treat them with disrespect. Some residents, perhaps justifiably, fear certain officers. Others harbor a general suspicion, perhaps born of experience.

For them, police aren't wanted, though they may be needed.

You couldn't pay me to be a cop in those neighborhoods. I'd find it hard to remember it's my job to serve and protect people who aren't happy to see me.

Al Brown is a better person than I. Twenty-seven years ago, Mr. Brown, a college grad and psyche major, joined Cincinnati's police force and became a patrolman, mostly in District 3.

He patrolled a number of neighborhoods, including Millvale, where he grew up. He grew tired of something he saw in his old stomping ground - young kids throwing rocks at patrol vehicles.

Dangerous habits

It was more than disrespect or distrust; it was dangerous. The kids, he says, had inherited attitudes about police from older kids and adults. They were too young to understand when they saw neighbors or kids they look up to being arrested.

Police don't have time to worry with these little ones' negative impressions; most of their time is either in pursuit of criminals or patrolling crime-troubled streets.

Officer Brown tried to think of "ways to get into their hearts and their heads."

He joined forces 10 years ago with Melanie Allen, who ran a computer literacy program. At first they taught computers to adults, but soon they found children the most interested. They expanded their hours and called the after-school program Computer COP.

In a few months, the rocks stopped flying. Officer Brown, who retired from the force last year, figures that the stone throwers could no longer count on anonymity as police and community interaction improved.

Computer COP has spread to nine neighborhood centers, with a 10th planned for next month. At least 4,000 Cincinnati children - ages 5 through 17 - have learned computer skills, gotten help with homework, made nice with police officers.

"We pivot off their own interests and don't tell them what to do," Mr. Brown says. With games like Math Blasters and Where in the World is Carmen San Diego, "They don't even realize they're learning anything. They're happy."

Uncertain funding

Mr. Brown hopes to expand the program to preschoolers, who are most impressionable. But funding is in question.

A state grant expires in December, and an unrelated delay has put a renewal in limbo, Mr. Brown says.

Mr. Brown also applied for a $35,000 grant with Cincinnati's Neighborhood Services, but the city's budget crisis makes that a toss-up, too.

It's hard to measure the program's success. Each year about 400 kids attend but about half withdraw. Some Computer COP programs have kids lined up outside each day, but others, like centers at the Neighborhood House on Findlay Street and West Cincinnati Presbyterian Church, have computer stations waiting for kids.

Computer COP pays off in subtle ways. There's the 10-year-old boy who assembled his own computer and printer set-up. The 15-year-old who dropped out and got into trouble, but allowed Mr. Brown to talk him into turning himself in. The high-schooler who won a scholarship to study in Texas and the other kid who enlisted in the Navy's computer technology program.

"We're planting seeds," Mr. Brown says. "It takes a while for the tree to grow."

E-mail damos@enquirer.com or phone 768-8395.