‘WE DISCOVERED COURAGE WE DIDN’T KNOW WE HAD!’
Three readers who have succeeded against the odds
‘You need to have faith in your own capabilities’
When Bhupinder Rai, 51, first applied to join the police, she thought she had little chance of being accepted, but now she’s a high-ranking officer with Thames Valley Police and is changing perceptions nationwide
I’m Sikh and one of the tenets in our religion is to stand up for those who can’t stand up for themselves. I grew up with strong family values. My father used to say to me, ‘People who commit sins are sinners, but people who stand by and do nothing about it are bigger sinners.’ As a child, that really stuck with me and I was keen to have a career where I could make a difference.
Initially, I wanted to be a lawyer. But instead, after school, I joined Natwest bank on an apprenticeship. I’d been with the bank for three years when, in 1991, a recruitment leaflet for Thames Valley Police popped through my door. Growing up, I’d never seen a female police officer, let alone one of colour. I was feeling unfulfilled in my job at the time and I remember jokingly remarking to my husband, ‘I wonder if I could ever get a job like that.’ He laughed and said there weren’t police officers who looked like me. I saw his reaction as a challenge, so I decided to apply.
I was invited for a three-day assessment. I had to complete a medical, fitness and writing test.
I was surrounded by a pool of ex-army men and was the least fit of the bunch. I didn’t think I’d succeed, but I did well and was offered a provisional position, so I left the bank and started the 13 weeks of residential training. Out of the hundreds of trainees, there were significantly fewer women than men. I missed my family and there were a few times when I nearly gave up, but my husband encouraged me to keep going.
Some of my colleagues told me they’d never even spoken to a person of colour before. But a few of the men took me under their wings, helping me improve my fitness. When I became a police constable in 1992, I felt so proud in my uniform. As a woman, I still experienced challenges and on occasions would be told that mopping a cell or looking after the children who came into the station was my job, but I’d always question this and stand up for myself.
When a position for sergeant came up, I didn’t consider going for it. My sons, Arun and Amar, were young at the time and I didn’t think I could take on a bigger role. But my superintendent had faith in me and said that we could make it work, so I applied. When I got it, it gave me the confidence to go for other promotions and I went on to become inspector and then superintendent. Last August, I became chief superintendent and am now responsible for policing across the Buckinghamshire, Berkshire and Oxfordshire counties.
MAKING A DIFFERENCE
For me, the best thing is hearing my family say how proud they are of me, but I’m also proud to be representing women and women of colour at this rank. In 2016, I became BAME leader for the Police Superintendents’ Association, working at a national level to try to remove barriers in policing for BAME women. While the number of women police officers in the force is now up at 35%, representation for BAME communities is still as low as 5%. My goal before I retire is to leave policing in a more balanced state.
When it comes to gender and ethnicity, I think there is a fear of public failure. When there are so few of you, you feel far more visible, but what I’ve learned is that you need to have faith in your own capabilities and then other people will, too.
Growing up, I’d never seen a female police officer, let alone one of colour