This past week I went to my nephew’s academy graduation from the same department his parents, my husband and I retired from. It’s definitely a family affair, when you add his brother has been with the department for eighteen months.

Watching the young cadets file out, standing at attention, with polished boots, pressed perfect uniforms, I was struck with pride. Memories swirled around my head of my time in the academy. What surprised me there were only two women who were apart of the graduating class, out of forty-five.  

Later I asked my nephew about the anomaly. It seemed odd to me, since in my academy we had fifteen female graduates out of fifty-something.  He told me that actually started out with ten, but eight dropped out.

I was astounded. Or maybe it was just me, since when I went through the academy, I didn’t want to be a cop, but choose that profession because it was hiring. I had three mouths to feed, and needed a job with benefits, desperately. Failure or dropping out was not an option. The academy was hard both physically and mentally. Because of the female friends I made, the support we gave each other, we all made it.

Law Enforcement isn’t easy for females. Even today, it’s still a man’s world. When I started over twenty years ago, sexual harassment was still alive.

Even though today, there is protection against sexual harassment, a female cop has to put in 150% to her partners 100%. As a female, they have to prove themselves, not only to their partner, but their team.

To her teammates, the female cop is something of a mystery. I was told once that our male counterparts often discuss what we talk about in our private world of the locker room. A rookie told me he’d love to be a fly on the wall to hear what we had to say about the men we work with. I laughed and said, “No you wouldn’t.”

 As the female cops makes her way through the world she has chosen as a profession, she drops a lot of famine attributes. The uniform is less than flattering. Her hair is cropped short to be up off the collar or pulled back into a ridiculous old fashion bun. I had a watch-commander, who measured the length of our bangs, if we had them. Long nails are a no, no. No bright colored nail polish. Perfume and scented lotions is discouraged, because the mixture of floral smells and bad-guy funk can really stink up a patrol unit.  Make-up has to be light. No bright lip colors, only gloss. 

Where the female cop clings to her girlie-inner-self while on duty, is in underwear. Cops are required and like to wear t-shirts. It helps with the wool uniform pressing on the skin, and protection from the vest, but under that is anything from lacy to very sexy black.

G-string panties are common, no panty line on the uniform. Yes, we still think about that.

Back in the day, I had a dog of a Sergeant. There were five females assigned to our fifty man unit, so when we had our monthly inspections, we’d don our sexiest underwear. Sexy silky pastel colored camisoles, lacy bras, g-strings we wore under our dress blues. As the Sergeant passed us, examining our gear and uniform, out from under our hat, we’d give him a twinkle of the eye. No, smile of course, just a twinkle, because we had this little secret, we knew he’d just love to know about. It drove him crazy. So much so, as we prepared for inspection, he ordered a rookie to stand outside of our locker room, and listen to what we were all giggling about behind the thick door. I opened the door, and ran right into the poor kid. He started to sputter something about the Sergeant, listening, embarrassed, he’ll never do it again, over our roar of laughter. 

Years later at my retirement party I was asked by that Sergeant about those times and what we kept from him. When I told him, he blushed like a schoolboy.  

 I’m writing about my experiences primarily to educate writers about the image of the female cop. I want them to understand there is a big difference between the television version and what is real, to make their stories ring with truth. So if you have any questions for me fire away.

Next week, the female cop and the relationship to her partner. 

  Question of the day:  In fiction do you want to see the female cop sexy or more earthy, like in reality. Which works best in fiction?