Dad showed me policing is hard work
It’s tough, physically and mentally. Police need to be sure they’re recruiting people up for the job.
When we were children, Dad would occasionally wake me and my sister up in the early hours of the morning for a hug.
It was only after he’d gotten home from a particularly tough policing shift, and it wasn’t often.
At the age we were at, if we’d asked what it was he had seen that night, he wouldn’t have told us. So we’d just let him get it out of his system, roll our eyes and go back to sleep.
As I got older I became more aware of some of the things Dad, as a sole-charge policeman across a (so-far) 22-year career, had been involved with and still is.On those nights when we were woken, another child had usually died.
He’s come home stiff and bruised, downcast, happy, pumped up on adrenaline, quietly proud, frustrated, a million other things. A full range of emotions that every officer will experience across their careers, or sometimes in a single shift - and that’s normal.
It’s also nothing that someone battling a mental illness can’t necessarily handle, if properly treated. At the same time police need the ability to closely monitor and reject applicants who don’t pass the overall health test. That may not always align with what’s seen as politically correct.
It emerged this week, a new recruit who has been treated for mental illness in the past, must be well and off treatment for two years before they’re accepted.
It’s caused outrage from advocacy groups, an embarrassing backdown from an uninformed Labour police spokesman Stuart Nash, and encouragement from Health Minister Jonathan Coleman that it be reviewed.
It’s excessive as a blanket approach. Concern that it could deter someone who is already an officer from seeking help if they’re struggling, for fear of harming their career, is valid.
Asthmatics conversely, are assessed on a caseby-case basis.
This seems a fair way to screen candidates who have suffered from mental illness (and let’s not pretend there aren’t risks with mental illness in such a highpressured and dangerous job).
I was talking to a friend a while ago who is married to a policeman. It was the first time I’d realised anyone else had the same weird thoughts about the job I did.
I never worry about it; Dad goes to work and comes home at the end of shift just like anyone. But there are details I know I would include in his funeral if it came to it (sorry Dad). There’s just not much I can’t handle, if I have a plan.
But the best laid plans can go awry. And if they do, I like to know the officers standing next to Dad are up to the job in all respects.
"On those nights when we were woken, another child had usually died."