Finally, I was a college graduate! Well, with a degree in Feminist Writing…which was a one of a kind major that I designed through the University of Connecticut’s Individualized Majors program. I had a horrible time deciding what I wanted to major in. I wanted to write, but a traditional English major would only allow me to use two writing classes toward my major. I didn’t want to read other people’s writing as much as I wanted to practice my own. When I discovered the Individualized Major program it allowed me to tailor my major to the kind of work I wanted to do. So, I combined Creative Writing classes with Sociology and Women’s Studies because those were the types of things I wanted to write about.
The Individualized Major program is not easy to get into. First, I had to figure out what all of the required classes would be for the major and how they supported what I wanted to do with it. Then I had to write the justification for it and then present my case before a panel of Professors. I was quite pleased that I managed to get it approved, and still, this many years later I like the idea of having my very own major. However, realistically, it was kind of like having an Art History Major for its worth in finding a job. My first job out of college was definitely as a result of my Internship my senior year and the major, but that was about it. I worked at the Connecticut Women’s Caucus Research and Education Fund (CWCREF). We were a non-profit organization that taught women how to run for political office.
I started out as the Research and Planning Coordinator. That was a fancy title for the person who did all of the planning and setup for our seminars or fundraisers. I then got promoted to Executive Director for a short time, but the bottom dropped out of our funding a relatively short time later. I was already working two other part time jobs to make enough money to pay for my apartment and food. One of my part-time jobs was as a police dispatcher for the Rocky Hill Police Department. When a full-time job came open at the police department I jumped on it because I could see the writing on the wall. It’s really too bad because CWCREF provided some valuable services to women, but the organization closed up shop within the year.
I loved my job as a dispatcher. It was not anything I would have planned to do and it was certainly not the normal career path for Feminist Writing majors, but I loved it. As time went on I began to think seriously about applying to be a police officer. The Chief of Police and one of his favorite Lieutenants were universally loathed and mistrusted by almost everyone in the PD. Right after I applied for the job, the Chief changed the physical requirements for the test against the recommendation of the Sergeant that had been overseeing the exam for several years. The Chief added the requirement that each candidate had to do one pull-up. The Sergeant explained to him that several organizations had looked in to the requirement and found that it was not really a good judge of upper body strength as much as it was a vehicle to keep women out. The national average for men is one pull-up…there is no national average for women because so few women can do them. Also, the women who are likely to be able to do them are small women because it is easier for a compact person to do them then a tall person (this actually goes the same for men as well). However, the larger women are the ones more likely to be able to hold their own in a physical confrontation. The Chief didn’t care. His daughter, a gymnast, could do a pull-up and so that was good enough for him. (See this article for more information if you’re interested. http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/10/25/why-women-cant-do-pull-ups/
I began dieting and joined a gym. I went in and told them that their only job was to get me to be able to do a pull-up in the next six months. I lost tons of weight and I lifted lots of weights. I practiced every day. I got slim and muscular and looked incredible, but I still could not do a pull-up. I remember standing in line waiting for my turn. A couple of the guys barely managed to get their chin to the bar but that was all they had to do. I couldn’t do it. Most of the guys there were pulling for me and cheering me on, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t pull myself up to the bar. The Lieutenant stood there with a smirk on his face. I wouldn’t have minded failing so much if he hadn’t been there watching and enjoying my failure. He was quick to tell me that I would have to skip the rest of the test because I couldn’t fail any of the elements. (A lot of other police tests allowed you to build up enough points in other elements so that if you failed one you could still pass the rest of the test.)
So, I continued to be a dispatcher. My relationship with the police officers continued to get better. They even elected me as the Vice President of the police union. It was the first time a civilian had ever held that rank. However, my relationship with the Chief and his Lieutenant minion continued to get worse, especially after I was instrumental in overturning a couple of their new edicts through my union efforts. I found out that there was an opening for a dispatcher at Manchester PD and I applied for it. I was ambivalent about whether or not I wanted to leave because I had many friends at Rocky Hill PD.
The straw that broke the camel’s back was when I made a complaint about the Lieutenant and was threatened with being investigated instead of having my complaint taken seriously. I had been to a party with several of the officers. The next day when I went to work the Lieutenant came in and started making suggestive remarks and insinuating that I had been doing inappropriate things of a sexual nature with a couple of the police officers. I told him he was wrong and that his comments were inappropriate. He continued and I warned him two other times that he needed to stop making such comments because they were not only false, but also a basis for a sexual harassment claim. He didn’t seem phased at all by what I said. I made an appointment with the Chief and explained what had happened and asked him to please tell the Lieutenant that his remarks were inappropriate and to cease and desist. The Chief’s response was to say that he would have to start an investigation into the party and see if any of the officers were guilty of conduct unbecoming an officer. He never addressed my concerns at all and it was quite clear that he would do his best to destroy me by punishing everyone else for my complaint. When I was offered the new job at Manchester PD, I accepted it.
Several months later I filed suit against Rocky Hill for sexual harassment. Although I cannot discuss the resolution of the case because I signed a non-disclosure agreement, I can say that almost every police officer that I knew told me how thrilled they were that I had brought the suit. This in and of itself is unusual because in a male dominated field like the police, sexual harassment suits almost always brand the person who brings the suit rather than those that are accused. This gives an indication of how much antipathy there was toward the Chief and his Lieutenant. I also learned that shortly after I left one of the officers brought suit on another charge. Eventually, the town bought out the rest of the Chief’s contract. I like to think that I might have been the first chink in his armor. But, I also know that all of the weight I lost and the strength I’d gained were quickly wasted by stress eating as things started to go downhill . By the time I started at Manchester PD I was well on my way back toward obesity.