How a Harris County constable is using swangas to bridge the divide between police and community

A Precinct 7 Constable vehicle equipped with swangas seen at the Texas Southern University homecoming parade Saturday, Oct. 18, 2025. -Texan Wire Wheels

Anyone who's spent time in Houston has seen swangas — the gleaming chrome-clad rims have become synonymous with the candy-painted Cadillacs and classic cars they often extend from.

While a common sight on Houston’s streets, it wasn’t until recently that a patrol vehicle sported the chariot-esque rims. They are on loan under a partnership between the Harris County Precinct 7 Constable’s Office and Houston-based Texan Wire Wheels.

“For us, it’s about bridging that gap between the community and the police,” said Autavia Alexander, a spokesperson for Texan Wire Wheels. “People tend to judge people by their cars — whether that’s a police car or one with tinted windows, clean paint and swangas. We wanted to help show the community that there’s more than meets the eye.” A Precinct 7 vehicle with swangas was seen “swanging” — slowly weaving from side to side, another product of Houston’s car culture — down the Texas Southern University homecoming parade route in an Instagram Oct. 19. Alexander said that the swangas were attached for the parade and later removed. She said Texan Wire Wheel was open to similar partnerships in the future, but they didn't have any immediate plans to equip more Precinct 7 vehicles with rims.

Voters in Precinct 7, which covers Third Ward, elected Constable James “Smokie” Phillips to oversee the office of deputy constables. As officials elected by voters in their precincts, constables are better equipped than the sheriff or other county-wide officials to tailor their services to the neighborhoods they serve.

And that was exactly the intent behind the partnership between Precinct 7 and Texan Wire Wheels, which provided the swangas at no charge to the office. Precinct 7 said in a statement that its participation in the parade was part of an effort to bridge the divide between the officers Phillips oversees and the community they serve.

“We are committed to bridging the gap between law enforcement, culture, and the community. We always ask ourselves what can we do to better our community engagement initiatives? Let us know,” the statement read. “We are always open to effective dialogue and discussions on making our communities safer and protecting families.”

Reactions from residents on social media were generally positive. Although some comments alluded to lingering distrust toward area police, many saw it as a genuine effort to interface with the community they serve.

Measuring the success of an initiative like Precinct 7's can be difficult, said Howard Henderson, founding director of the Center for Justice Research and professor of justice administration at the Barbara Jordan - Mickey Leland School of Public Affairs. But there is research showing that measures like it can be effective, he said.

“We know that people who buy into the legitimacy of authority are more likely to respect that authority,” Henderson said. “Something like having swangas on cars is an attempt to show the community that we’re all the same — that we can come together and work together.”

Henderson compared the outreach effort to the current political climate and the Houston police union trying to recruit New York officers following that mayoral election. Local residents might be more positively inclined to Precinct 7’s efforts at community policing, Henderson said

Swangas, and the wider car culture they are part of, are the perfect medium for Phillips’ office to engage community members, Alexander said. The bright colors, hood adornments and wire rims that turn a vehicle from a car to a “slab” aren’t a gaudy display of material wealth — they’re an expression of shared culture, creativity and identity.

The spirit of Houston

Slab cars make their way through the route of the 36th Annual Houston Art Car Parade on Saturday, April 15, 2023 in Houston. -Elizabeth Conley/Staff photographer

In a city often maligned for its car-centric infrastructure, slab culture is a byproduct that’s seeped into the cultural zeitgeist and ultimately helped define one aspect of the shared experiences that collectively form the spirit of Houston.

The emissions from the hundreds of thousands of vehicles driven down Houston’s roads and freeways do more than pollute the air — they coalesce into a form of creative expression specifically suited to the city that birthed it.

A slab is a car, but it's also an acronym — slow, loud and banging. The phrase was immortalized by rappers like Z-ro and Chamillionaire, who brought the city to the cultural forefront in the late 90s and early 2000s. The unique sound that accompanied their rise to fame — chopped and screwed — matched the ostentatious, laid-back car culture that ferried them from Houston to the national stage.

Decades later, slab culture has expanded to become a phenomenon across Texas. But the communities whose tangled streets and towering freeways spawned it have not lost their fondness for a clean coat of paint, chrome rims and bumping stereo system.

For Precinct 7, which represents some of those communities, slab culture helps remind officers and residents alike that beneath the badge and behind the tinted windows are neighbors, relatives and friends.

“As we work together, we are reminded of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s enduring commitment: A steadfast resolve to serve and uplift Black and brown communities, affirming that genuine equality and justice come from a steady, positive and principled dedication to the dignity and potential of every person,” Precinct 7 wrote in a statement. “In his words, we must be ‘courageous enough to pursue the beloved community.’”