First
Lieutenant Shirley Razmus’ (EHS’01) children grew
up seeing her in uniform and thought that was the norm.
“One day my daughter, who was about seven
at the time, looked out the car window, saw a trooper helping
a motorist and said, ‘Mom, Mom! That’s a police man!’”
Razmus says, laughing.
That was in the early 1980s, and while men generally
haven’t been out-staffed in police departments, woman in
uniform are increasingly common—as are women in command
positions. Today, Razmus holds the top position in the Michigan
State Police’s Rockford post where she oversees five sergeants,
30 troopers, eight dispatchers, a detective sergeant, six radio
techs and two motor carrier officers.
While Razmus doesn’t think of herself
as a role model, others do. Just ask her second-in-command.
Breaking
into the Ranks
The Rockford post of the Michigan State Police
is headquartered in a two-story building constructed during the
Great Depression by the Work Progress Administration. Its brick
façade calls to mind the no-nonsense and almost all-male
workforce of the WPA.
But in Shirley Razmus’ second-floor office,
Lieutenant Andrea Nerbonne (EHS’85, ’01) explains
some of the ways her boss has helped change traditionally male-dominated
institutions.
“Because of people like Shirley, women
like me can come into the field and not be hassled the way we
might previously have been,” says Nerbonne. “I’m
sure there are still some men who have sexist views, but my experience
was of men and women in class together and in the academy together.”
“When I started in the ’70s, there
weren’t many women in law enforcement, so there was some
apprehension,” admits Razmus. “Once when I was a cub
trooper, I was assigned to a new partner. Unbeknownst to me, he
went to the partner I’d worked with the previous shift and
begged him to switch duty. That trooper, who was male as well,
said, ‘Just go work with her one night, and if you still
want to switch, I will.’ I ended up working that shift and
many other shifts with the new partner, so obviously I passed
the test.”
Today, about 12 percent of the Michigan State
Police are women, and the veteran Razmus spends little time worrying
about gender issues. Most of her time is spent dealing with the
day-to-day operation of her post—especially what needs to
be done to implement the MSP’s new state-wide communications
system—an essential task since the Rockford post handles
about 60 percent of calls for the state’s second largest
metropolitan area.
Taking
Charge
Grand Rapids Police Department Captain Pam Carrier’s
(EHS’78) experience largely mirrors that of Razmus. Carrier’s
office in the Grand Rapid Police Department’s recently renovated
headquarters in the former Herpolsheimers department store could
just as easily be any male captain’s office with its FDNY
hat, NYPD coffee mug and certificates of various achievements—except
maybe for the hand-made birthday card, which proclaims “We
you, Mom” from amid an explosion of stars.
Although Carrier acknowledges that policing
is still a male-dominated field in terms of total numbers, she
says that’s not the whole story.
“There are more women in policing than
ever before, especially in command positions,” Carrier says.
“We still have some citizens that call and will want to
talk to the male in charge and I tell them, ‘I’m the
male in charge.’ Then they want to talk to my lieutenant.
Well, my lieutenant’s female. So there’s still a small
part of society—and I’m sure a few male officers—who
feel that we shouldn’t be here, but I think that by and
large people accept us.”
Lieutenant Kris Walters (EHS’84, ’01)
agrees. “I was introducing a high-school intern I’m
working with—a female who’s looking at a career in
law enforcement—to the people in the department and she
said, ‘Wow, there’s a lot of female officers here.’
So I think our numbers are definitely growing.”
Both Carrier and Walters cite a number of changes
that have contributed to the acceptance of women on the force.
“In Grand Rapids we went from being a
department driven by 9-1-1 calls to a community policing philosophy
of working with our citizens,” Carrier
says. “Today you have to be more professional,
more educated.”
Walters thinks that women are well suited to
this new policing reality.
“Officers find themselves dealing with
situations with more finesse than physical skills,” she
says. “It’s not accepted anymore to just go out and
beat somebody up. You have to have more than just physical skills
to deal with situations.”
They
Got the Beat
According to David Holmstrom, writing for the
Christian Science Monitor, the interpersonal skills women bring
to the force may be exactly the direction law enforcement is headed—even
if women are still a minority in most police departments.
“If day-to-day policing is less about
force than about listening to both sides in domestic and neighborhood
disputes, then some experts insist that women may be the top cops
of the future,” Holmstrom writes.
That next generation of police officer is already
on the street. And if Kerri Cannata is any indication, that kind
of relationship-building is exactly what departments are already
practicing.
“It’s
not accepted anymore to just go
out and beat somebody up. You
have to have more than just
physical skills to deal
with situations.
-Lt. Kris Walters
Cannata
is an Ottawa County police officer, one of three who patrols Allendale
Township. “Regular road patrols might not form the relationships
we do,” says Cannata. “We deal with issues regular
officers wouldn’t. We talk to managers of businesses and
people like that, so that when they have a problem that isn’t
an emergency they can call and leave a message, and we’ll
come out and deal with whatever the issue is.”
Like Carrier, Cannata says that any cultural
shift that still needs to take place lies more with civilians
than with her brothers and sisters in blue.
“I’ve been accepted very well by
my co-workers,” she says. “I haven’t felt I’ve
faced any discrimination. In the field, I think that some citizens
still view us differently. Sometimes people are surprised that
a female shows up at their door. A lot of times when I get out
of the car I’ll hear little kids say, ‘She’s
a girl!’’’
Cannata was the outstanding recruit from the
Michigan Police Corps 2001 Police Training Academy graduating
class. She also was class commander. Recruits vote for class commander
based upon character, physical ability and academic success throughout
the academy.
So while there aren’t yet a lot of people,
like Razmus’s daughter, who cry out in wonder at seeing
a policeman, it seems likely that people like Cannata, recognized
by her own peers as a leader, will continue to bring a new range
of leadership skills to a career-path that each year has more,
and more-complex, challenges.