‘You won’t scare my mummy, she’s a police officer’: the impact of policing on parenting

by Fran Wright, Lecturer in Policing Organisation and Practice at The Open University

Most parents would probably agree that there is never a ‘right time’ to start a family, but as a police officer I would argue there really isn’t. Entering the police service twenty years ago, I naively assumed that one day I would perfectly balance motherhood with my dream career. Having made carefully considered choices and countless self-affirmations that having a baby, ‘won’t change me,’ eighteen years and two children later, I can say quite categorically that it has.

As I have stepped further away from frontline duties, and watched my children grow, I have become more aware of the impact my dual role as a ‘police mother’ has had on my family and I over the years. Only now, with an appetite for police research (and a wealth of amusing anecdotes), do I concede that my daughter is right when she says, ‘you only say that because you’re a police officer.’ Reading a piece by Lennie (2018) entitled ‘Policing parenting: Psychological challenges for officers and their families,’ caused me to reflect on my own experiences of this phenomenon, and to consider whether being a police officer has informed my approach to parenting, or more importantly, negatively impacted my children.

I have often likened my operational role to the 1980’s children’s programme Mr Ben, walking into the locker room at one end as a wife and mother, and moments later, miraculously reappearing as a police officer. Enter the hypervigilant, over-protective, and at times border-line neurotic mother; exit the calm, level-headed, police officer, able to robustly cope with whatever the next ten hours might present. Violanti (1999) asserts that ‘police officers are expected to be combat ready 24/7, whilst maintaining a normal social presence,’ and yet I find myself with an ‘alter-ego.’ So when and how exactly did this dual-personality manifest?

As a new mother I was based in my home city, policing the streets in which I lived. Reflecting on a trepidatious early trip out with the pram, perhaps I should have realised when my over-reaction to a well-known ‘customer,’ (who had merely recognised me and shouted across the road in acknowledgement), was perhaps what Agocs et al. (2015) would consider a ‘danger-protection strategy.’ In a state of gut-wrenching panic, my instinct was to run from this once troublesome teenager, whom I now perceived as a violent monster. A lack of engagement with early police research in this field served me well, since Manning (1978) concluded, that from a police perspective, ‘people cannot be trusted, and they are dangerous.’ Had I applied an evidence-based approach at this stage, I may well have chosen to end my police career there and then.

As the newness of parenting abated, perhaps one could have expected to feel more relaxed, and able to enjoy the company of toddler-friends in the joyous surroundings of the soft-play centre. Conversely, this was to become a regularly traumatic experience for this ‘police mother.’ The nature of my police role triggered involuntary behaviours and suspicions of which my friends were oblivious. I was on ‘high-alert’ to lone males who might be ‘watching’ children; a scenario bearing remarkable similarities to that at a splash park described in a study of police mothers by Agocs et al (2015). The reality was of course that these were probably innocent men watching their own family as they played.

As friends casually tossed aside their handbags, mine remained strapped firmly to my body. The avoidance of the opportunist thief, far more exigent than the hindrance which it caused as I clambered through the cargo netting in pursuit of a toddler that I would surely never see again should I lose sight even for a second. The small inadequate exit gate could easily facilitate a child abduction, or at best a high-risk missing person.

Attendance at the play centre remained incessant during the early school years, since the ‘play centre party’ was the celebration of choice for what seemed an eternity. Triggers differed however once the children played independently. My heightened anxiety focussed on the potential for injury, (actual) loss of teeth, or the recognition of a wanted person, once spotted across the ball pit at a particularly ‘choice’ venue.

As the children have reached their milestones, so too my ‘danger-protection strategies’ have developed. Perhaps this is the reason that my son’s reception teacher described him as a ‘wise head on young shoulders?’ Clearly those ‘teachable moments’ that I have unwittingly instilled have served him well; he has an excellent grasp of road safety, a thorough understanding of the consequences of not wearing a helmet for any ‘wheeled activity’ and would never dream of leaving his scooter unattended for fear of it being stolen! My daughter’s similar hard-line approach to road-safety occasionally left her unable to catch the school bus due to her literal interpretation of my repeated instruction to ‘only cross the road if you can see absolutely nothing for a mile in either direction.’

An early grasp of ‘stranger-danger’ was equally reassuring, if not slightly alarming. When offered a sweet by a friendly store worker, my daughter’s hysterical over-reaction as she believed she was ‘being stolen,’ left the poor woman bewildered. This was perhaps a light-bulb-moment, and a clear demonstration of how my lack of trust in others had caused me to transfer my own fears to my children through the ‘what if’ scenarios I have developed throughout their childhood.

Years of policing in a city centre environment, dealing with trauma, risk, and danger, have evidently shaped my perceptions and influenced the ‘danger- protection strategies’ employed to protect them. I recall my daughter preparing for her first shopping trip with friends in her early teens. As we rehearsed the relevant ‘what if’ scenario, I unconsciously applied the 5 WH (who, why, what, when, how) questioning technique, honed through years of police interviewing. Despite being reassured by her graphic response as to how she would evade such danger, the disproportionate level of violence that would be deployed in the ‘stranger’ scenario required a timely intervention regarding ‘use of force’ and ‘proportionality’!

As we embark on the next phase of childhood, my hypervigilance heightens; fatal road traffic collisions, stranger rape and student suicide, all potential consequences as my eldest learns to drive, enters higher education, and enjoys the associated nightlife. Research suggests that I am not alone with this ‘worst-case scenario’ outlook. Agocs et al. (2015) conclude that ‘police-women are super-vigilant parents; they see more, know more, worry more and warn more.’ A reliable evidence-base for my own self-doubt, or further protestations from the children.

As I recall these anecdotes, which at times have been a source of amusement, they serve as a constant reminder of my privileged, if not damaging, position as a ‘police mother.’ I ponder the ‘emotional labour’ (Lennie, 2018) expended in my efforts to protect, compounded by the guilt of balancing the demands of work and home, as I strived to be a ‘good mother.’

Despite my idiosyncrasies and the embarrassing moments, I know the children are proud. My donning of a wagon driver’s high visibility coat at the scene of a collision was a particularly low point for my teenage daughter, although she did later concede that she felt proud. In contrast, our collective family response to a suspected drink-driver following a day trip, was deemed ‘epic’ by them both. They have always enjoyed the ‘stories’ imploring me to describe the ‘worst thing’ I have seen or dealt with; a censored response, carefully constructed, with incidents downplayed or even fabricated, contributing further to the ‘emotional labour’ involved in balancing the realities of life, with emotional damage limitation.

Through my endeavours as a ‘police mother’ I appear to have raised two highly sensible individuals, neither of whom present as ‘emotionally damaged.’ Whereas I shoulder an aggregation of anxieties with every passing milestone, regularly behaving in a way which I am informed by my daughter is ‘not normal.’ Recently whilst embracing her, I instinctively reached into her wide-opened shoulder bag, demonstrating the ease in which her purse could be stolen. Her response to this mock theft scenario was utter contempt. A stark contrast to when she proudly informed her nursery friends, (as they attempted to scare me with a plastic dinosaur), ‘you won’t scare my mummy, she’s a police officer.’ She was right; stepping out of ‘Mr Ben’s’ changing room into my ‘police world,’ I barely ever felt scared despite the risks I faced. And yet, where the children are concerned I have consistently and instinctively displayed behaviour which confirms that my police role has indeed informed my parenting ‘style.’ And if further evidence was required to corroborate my daughter’s claim that I really do, ‘only say that because I’m a police officer,’ then my response to a recent question from my son, provides validation. He asked, ‘is it scary being a parent?’ my response…….. ‘it’s scarier than being a police officer!’

 

Organisational commitment to learning and development and the link to officer welfare

Dr Emma Williams of the Open University’s Centre for Policing Research explores the importance of CPD in wellbeing, particularly in relation to equipping officers with the skills, knowledge and learning required to investigate complex rape cases and sexual offences more effectively.

“There is literally no teaching, no training and I think there could maybe a better input on what is expected of you as an OIC. But you literally have to do or die.” (Detective Inspector)

Knowledge attainment is not linked simply to individual development but also to organisational learning and improvement.

In the context of policing specialist areas, organisations need to think carefully about how to enable and empower their workforce through continuing professional development (CPD), and assist them in becoming both confident and capable in their roles.

Evetts (2011) suggests that this enabling of professional service delivery links to organisational legitimacy, in that decision making and subsequent actions are informed and based on appropriate knowledge input.

In the field in which policing operates, methods of criminality, offender typologies, victims and vulnerabilities change at pace, especially with the fast-moving development of technology, digital platforms, and societal change. Therefore, officers need regular professional development input to upskill and update their knowledge based on the transient nature of policing as an occupation.

The police have received ongoing criticism for their investigation of rape over a long period of time, yet changes to justice outcomes remain challenging. Complex areas of policing require effective understanding by officers; without that, the opportunity for change is put at risk and improvement stalled.

The importance of CPD and knowledge input has been discussed at length within this series of articles. What this piece aims to explore, or at least question, is the link between the learning development offer by police organisations and the wellbeing and individual sense of professionalism held by their officers, specifically in the context of the investigation of rape and sexual offending.

Empowered through knowledge

Wilcock and Townsend (2000) argue that enhancement of a professional identity through CPD is critical to wellbeing. More often than not in policing discussions about wellbeing – especially when discussing officers involved in crimes such as child and adult sexual offending – we see reference to case-related trauma, exposure to indecent images etc, but very little debate about organisational stressors and how they relate to welfare in policing.

Emerging findings from a recent research project on wellbeing and learning and development among investigating officers involved in rape and serious sexual offences (RASSO) – part of the wider national Project Soteria / Bluestone research – suggest that while officers are aware of the need for more knowledge input in this area, it is not prioritised within their organisations.

Workload, austerity cuts and the national detective crisis has meant that processes of restructure and the refiguration of investigation teams have become more concerned with capacity than capability within those teams.

This leaves officers stripped of the specialist and expert knowledge they need to professionally investigate cases that involve complex victims, relationships, trauma, and questions of consent.

Birch et al (2017) argue that organisational justice is central to this debate as the workforce need to feel included, fairly supported to do their job and empowered through knowledge. Without this, coping mechanisms put in place by workers will leads to stress and potential burnout. This is becoming clear in the emerging findings in this research.

Development plans

Our work on Bluestone has revealed a clear reliance in policing on omnicompetence in RASSO investigations.

While the generic procedural knowledge taught in other investigative courses is applied, the complexities officers face in understanding the intersectional issues involved in attrition – such as victim/offender relationships, vulnerabilities, previous criminality, and the chaotic lifestyles of some of the victims – is often understood through the lens of past experience or embedded cultural knowledge. This is often imparted through peers.

What is more problematic with this, in the current policing climate, is the high number of very young-in-service officers who are placed in roles to meet capacity demand without being empowered effectively to deliver what is needed.

What is required here for the officers is specialist knowledge where officers are provided with input at the start of their journey working in RASSO investigations which is continued throughout their career in this field.

This article is not focused on the issues the research found with the Serious Sexual Assault Investigative Development Programme (SSAIDP), which is the learning input that all officers working in this field should be provided. It is more concerned with the lack of individual development plans for officers which should be in place to update the skills required in this fast-moving area of criminality.

While statements about time, workload and other issues featured in conversations about the lack of CPD, what also came up time and time again was the concern officers have for their team members wellbeing if they were to have days off allocated to development options.

There appears to an assumption that demand juxtaposed with a lack of detectives needs to leave learning as secondary rather than an essential part of improvements in this area.

Placing more value on learning in this area is likely to make investigations more efficient as officers will be better equipped and competent to undertake the work with the knowledge they need to do so professionally.

At the current time the research suggests that learning conflicts with officers’ desire to manage the workload. However, paradoxically, this lack of development adds to their anxiety and welfare issues.

Transformational change

Key research states that organisational burnout can occur when a lack of resources, personnel included, is matched with high work demand.

Organisations have a clear role and responsibility to empower and provide their staff with the resources they need to deliver in their role. The value of CPD in this area is essential if we expect officers to make improvements in justice outcomes for all rape victims.

The relationship between organisational justice and procedural justice is clear, and if officers are falling back on culturally entrenched knowledge and practice and perceptions of victim deservedness to make decisions in this area, improvements are at risk – as is the fair distribution of justice.

There needs to be transformational change in the area of RASSO learning and CPD which makes a commitment to empowering officers and ensuring competence and subsequently a commitment to the public and victims to genuinely improve practice in this field.

 

References

Birch, P., Vickers, M.H., Kennedy, M. and Galovic, S. (2017) ‘Wellbeing, occupational justice and police practice: an ‘affirming environment’?’, Police practice & research, 18 (1), pp. 26-36

Evetts, J. (2011) ‘A new professionalism? Challenges and opportunities’, Current Sociology, 59(4), pp. 406-422.

Wilcock, A. and Townsend, E. (2000) ‘Occupational terminology interactive dialogue’, Journal of Occupational Science, 7(2), pp. 84-86.

CPD and reflective practice: Improving investigations and wellbeing in rape and serious sexual offences

by Dr Nicky Miller, Dr Emma Williams and Richard Harding of the Open University’s Centre for Policing Research and Learning

Learning in policing should be continuous, iterative and lifelong, taking place throughout the career journey of a police officer or member of police staff.

While many of the problems facing policing are complex, contested and wicked, it operates in a constantly changing field, which is not static and unidimensional but complex, dynamic and often transient.
This means that knowledge resources, accessed via a variety of different methods and means, are both critical and central to the continued development of practice, effectiveness and the service delivered to the publics that policing serves.

These different knowledge resources might involve research evidence, policy developments, legislative change, and data analytics to mention but a few. However, what are rarely systematically captured, critically evaluated and shared are reflections on practice and experiences as a method to enable learning and improvement.

Given the extensive knowledge and experience held by officers, standardising its organisational capture could be considered in the drive to improve efficiency.

Reflective practice and RASSO

Reflective practice is more than simply looking back on an event. Reviewing retrospectively is the first step on the path to development. It is about understanding our actions, our current levels of knowledge, and our existing skill set. It is the ability to recognise gaps or deficits and then identify approaches to remedy any issues and address shortcomings.

Reflecting on experiences, both negative and positive, offers a channel for individual, team, and organisational development, all of which are central to the creation of an effective learning environment and subsequently organisational improvement.

The Centre for Police Research and Learning (CPRL) is currently involved in Project Soteria Bluestone, a Home Office-funded project exploring the investigation of rape and serious sexual offences (RASSO).

The pillar of work CPRL is leading on is examining ‘learning and development and officer wellbeing’. There are several factors attached to this pillar of work, but one of the strongest themes emerging from the work to date is the importance of reflective practice as a form of continuous professional development and iterative learning for those involved in investigating RASSO.

In this short piece we will draw on our work in Avon and Somerset Police to highlight the potential of reflective practice to improve the investigation of RASSO and access to justice for victims of these crimes.
Given the extreme complexity involved in the investigation of RASSO cases reported to the police, iterative learning, the critical assessment of practice and the establishment of feedback loops into learning cycles is essential.

While we would always advocate specialism through the delivery of specialist knowledge to officers that investigate these highly complex crimes, to date in our Bluestone work, we have predominantly seen didactic approaches to learning, a limited application of learning into practice and options for CPD, and no dedicated time for reflective practice and critical thinking about decisions made or the application of learning for the purposes of creating further personal and professional learning.

Improved service delivery and wellbeing

Officers we spoke to provided a clear narrative about the benefits of such reflective approaches more specifically from both a learning and wellbeing perspective.

The wider benefits of reflective practice per se, but particularly in the context of RASSO, link to the potential improvement to the service delivered to victims and survivors – and more broadly the quality of investigations as they move through the criminal justice system – as well as officer wellbeing.

Furthermore, integrating reflective practices at the heart of operational and learning activities offers individuals and organisations the opportunity to use these reflections on what worked well and what did not to create more iterative approaches to learning.

Such methods would facilitate the integration of lessons learned into a more effective learning cycle, and help to identify core areas for focused self-directed and organisationally provided CPD sessions.

Such learning might also provide examples of cases to support more blended learning approaches which explore ‘real’ cases to better connect theory and practice using learning content that resonates with practitioners in a more applied way.

Finally promising or innovative ideas that help to improve the delivery of a professional investigations for the victim could be shared.

Transformational change

By having key reflection points and dedicated reflection time within the process of an investigation strategy or case review, certain assumptions and regular patterns of thoughts and behaviours that can adversely shape thinking, decisions, actions and outcomes can be challenged.

In a crime type that involves such high levels of attrition at the police investigative stage of the criminal justice system these challenges are clearly required if we really hope to achieve transformational change in this space.
In organisations that are risk averse, admitting failure can be challenging. Organisations have a responsibility to allow for and provide a safe space for officers to talk through untoward outcomes, mistakes and perceived failures, in order to move forward and improve outcomes for victims and survivors of RASSO.
We are cognisant of the fact that officers are overworked, demand is high, and time is limited for reflective processes. However, the gains associated with building this into an investigation process are key to investigative effectiveness, officer competence and confidence, access to justice, and organisational health.

A powerful tool

Our research has found clear links between the wellbeing of personnel involved in RASSO investigations and their levels of professional competence, which highlights the critical roles that both formal and informal learning play in creating these.

Critical questions focused on case and victim needs, learning gaps, officers’ own wellbeing, victim/survivor needs and how these factors interact with organisational and wider CJS factors are worthy of ongoing contemplation and reflection in order to iteratively understand and adjust systems, cultures and approaches from a more whole systems perspective.

There was a desire for more time to reflect on decisions made and increase learning from the officers; therefore we suggest that embedding reflective practice more centrally in both investigative and learning practice is a powerful tool to achieve this aim.

Policing already employs forms of reflective practice in certain disciplines – for example, firearms operational debriefs – but the practice is not widespread or instinctive.

Avon and Somerset Police, led by their Chief Constable, Sarah Crew, have started this journey by implementing a new investigative strategy developed by our colleagues in Bluestone, Dr Kari Davies and Professor Miranda Horwath.

This strategy features reflective practice at the centre. We believe that this process will link to ‘on the job’ professional development, and offers further learning across teams and the wider organisation in the longer term.

Ultimately, in this context the police are learning to ask new and different questions and to grapple with the challenges of how to be better at delivering outcomes for victims and survivors of RASSO.