Promoting inclusion on the force and beyond
Thanks to education and encouragement, society is becoming more aware and accepting of those living under the rainbow of LGBTQ+ communities.
Terms such as lesbian, gay and transgender have been woven into the lexicon in a movement to build understanding, and let go of stereotypes.
Some deeply embedded stereotypes have been difficult to shed, however, particularly when it comes to male dominated and long-established institutions such as policing.
Many police organizations, including the Waterloo Regional Police Service, are working to become progressive and inclusive to reflect the changing communities they serve. Everything from training employees to investigating cases is viewed through a lens of sensitivity. Local police headquarters and detachments offer gender neutral bathrooms.
Inclusion and equity officer Sgt. Julie Sudds, a lesbian who has spent much of her adult life advocating for acceptance, has been a driving force behind cultivating change at the organization. For Sudds, however, the evolution of the workplace evolution is about more than just creating successful policies; it’s about creating successful people.
Among the first steps to effecting change, said Sudds, are establishing trust in transparency, and faith in finding greater meaning at work, and in life.
Although Sudds originally confided to a few co-workers after joining the service, upon coming out she soon discovered living an “authentic” life in the workplace was a beautiful thing.
“When you spend your time guarded, and protecting that personal piece of yourself, it prevents you from engaging on a more personal level with people,” she said. “I found once I was completely out to the world, those relationships became so much more meaningful. It just seemed to get to another whole level of acceptance.”
In the spirit of tri-Pride celebrations starting this week, Sudds was one of three police service employees to add their voices to efforts to keep law enforcement culture moving forward.
Mara Haasnoot, an imaging specialist who works in forensic identification, counts herself lucky to have received the support of co-workers after deciding to “honour” her identity as a transgender woman.
Adapting to changes in her life gradually, which began not long after being hired at the organization two years ago, Haasnoot soon discovered a safe place to introduce her new self.
“My first day on the job, I was asked to complete the standard online training videos, including an educational video about the transgender community,” she recalled. “I breathed a sigh of relief. It was wonderful to know this inclusive environment was already being built.”
Haasnoot approached her supervisor to inform her she was transgender, and found support and consideration. Work began to ensure her transition was as seamless as possible.
“Most importantly, she gave me control over my own message,” said Haasnoot, “so that I could decide who this information would be shared with, and at what pace.”
Haasnoot is playing a key role in that education process, using humour to navigate moments of good intentioned awkwardness, like pronoun slips.
It was precisely this inclusive environment that drew Const. Stephen Churm to Waterloo Region. Although he had come out as a gay man near the end of a long military career, he originally had doubts about being accepted into policing.
“Coming to a new organization, it was a little scary at first,” he said. “I, too, had stereotypes of police, and I, too, wasn’t sure if I wanted to be out initially in an organization I didn’t know a great deal about.”
Some research into police organizations eased his anxiety.
In his seven years at the service, Churm has welcomed opportunities to share his experience to break down stereotypes about who belongs behind a badge. While working with student clubs, the constable realized many youth were searching for role models, particularly those in the LGBTQ+ community struggling to find mentors in jobs reflecting their diversity.
“We should all know this, but policing is an opportunity for everybody,” he said.
It’s a message he tells high school students as part of his job as a school liaison in Cambridge. He chooses the word “privilege” to describe that role.
Students often ask what his wife does for a living. Churm smiles when he describes his response.
“Well, she’s my husband, and he’s a principal,” he said with a laugh.
“That starts a whole other dialogue, and that’s great.”