The Great Wall of Popat

A Journal of a Lesbian’S Adventures Getting Through Police Academy

At a time when most women my age are planning for retirement and maybe taking up hobbies that are a little less aggressive, I decided to go into law enforcement. Okay . . . . so doing what is expected of me is not my pattern of life. I enjoy adventures and the more impossible that they seem, the harder I will tackle them. Basically, it boiled down to the fact that years before, I had missed my window of opportunity to join the military. I had been a military brat and so joining the service would have been my wish but I had been a young mother and had to start work at a young age. I would never change the life I had with my four wonderful children. However now I was 42 years old and they were all grown up. I had just found out, through a turn of events, that there was no age limit for joining the police department. As long as one could keep up with the physical and academic requirements, then they were welcome to join. Additionally, I had felt that I was living on borrowed time since I was 15 years old when Id come as close to facing the vulnerability of being human as one can do without passing over to the non-living side. Soon after surviving, I had to face my own decision of moving on or finishing myself off. I made a choice and it was to live and to be happy. I wanted my days to count. I wanted to serve others who had gone through similar experiences. I wanted to lead a life with my head up. At the time that I applied for the academy, I was a special education teacher working with young adults who had aggressive and severe disabilities. I was running an after school Gay, Straight Alliance diversity club and was a mentor to many students. I had devoted all my life to children and youth. I had been a troubled child for a variety of reasons. I knew the pains that could come with childhoodmany pains to which children should never have to be exposed. I had always felt that I had to give back and try to be there for kids and others who could not speak up for themselves. Doing this was a priority to me. In addition to my full time teaching job with my school district, I was volunteering in a couple of capacities with the local Police department. I had first become a Victim Services Volunteer with them. Victim Services Volunteers are called at any time of day or night to go out and provide assistance to those who have been pa g e | 14 Me l i s a Me l victimized in some way. I never knew to what kind of call I would be going. It could be anything from a family member who had woken up to find their loved one had died during the night, a parent whose young adult child had overdosed on drugs, or a family whose home had burnt down. Regardless of the situation, the victim or victims needed support and resources. As a supplement to our 32 hour training, it was suggested that we do ride-alongs. I had never heard of a ride-along. A ride-along is literally when you ride along with an officer to get a taste of what it is like to be out on patrol. You have to sign a waiver indicating that you understand that there is a certain amount of danger involved but that you do not hold the police department responsible. For a mix of reasons, I was rather nervous about riding along in a police car with an officer. What made me most uncomfortable was the thought that I would have to sit in close proximity with a stranger. I did not even know if we could talk as I did not know if it was allowed. I feared it might distract the officers from their duties. Ever so much into training and wanting to learn all that I could about my new position, I scheduled a ride-along. I figured that just like with everything else in life, I would get the hang of it once I was there. I am very straightforward and like things to be clearly understood. I would have no problem simply asking the officer what was and was not ok. The officer with whom I was assigned to ride-along with was Officer Gabriel. I started out our ride-a