"It
was important that we succeed since we were paving the way, opening the doors.
We wanted to succeed so that someone else could come along behind us," said
Harrison, I.D. 8706, now Dublin Area Office commander. Nevatt's father and
family members were on the LAPD, so she knew what was expected of her. But
nothing could compare or prepare them for the media's white hot glare.
"The eyes were on us all the time," she said.
Coupled with family and personal obligations, the experience was
demanding.
"There was tremendous pressure on us," Nevatt said, "because we knew there
were thousands of applicants who wanted our spot. For me there was the enormous
internal pressure, a feeling of obligation to the class as a whole. You didn't
want to do anything wrong because then the whole class would get punished.
And you didn't want to get the guys mad at you, and there was this dedication
to the female cadets and your own family to make it through."
For Kelly, I.D. 8701, who transferred to the Academy last June, the experience
was like living in a fishbowl. "Everyone watched everything we did. When
we had to do the obstacle course the chief, the commissioner, the Academy
staff came out to watch," she said.
Nevatt said the special committee overseeing the three-year WTOP program
scrutinized all aspects from report writing to injuries. Then it compared
the data with male officers.
Lt. Mike Randolph, I.D. 8657, was among the 30 men in that special Academy
class. He said there were no differences in instruction and training of the
cadets, except for a few minor adjustments of the physical aspect such as
modified pull-ups. Nichols noted that women had to pass both the women's
and men's physical standards to graduate.
"They had to do everything we had to do; from the physical method of
arresting, training, even boxed with the men," Randolph, now at the Solano
Area Office, recalled of his fellow cadets in CTC IV-1974. "In some cases
the women outdid the men and the men outdid the women, but in many respects
they were equal."
At the time, Randolph, then 22, said he didn't have an opinion on whether
or not the women would endure the experience. "Amongthe people involved with
WTOP, they had concerns because it hadn't been tested at that time," he
said.
Two women from Randolph's class, Linda Healy and Pat Carr, later went
on to work for other law enforcement agencies. But they made an impression
in the short time they were CHP officers.
"They were as good as their peers and earned respect for the positive
things they were doing," Randolph said.
Kelly had something to prove not only to herself, but to someone in
particular.
"An officer said I wouldn't make it through." she said. "Shocked, he
congratulated me when I graduated, and I told him he was the main reason
I stayed on. I've also felt that when supervisors wanted me to quit, I stayed
on because that was my only recourse."
At times they endured prejudice on the job, too.
"There were times they (male officers) didn't trust you as backup," said
Nichols, I.D. 8707, who has worked at the San Andreas office for the past
10 years. "I was told that if I couldn't take the heat to get out of the
fire, stuff like that. But that ceased with the Department, federal and state
pressure. It wasn't the Department's fault. They just had no idea how to
handle it at the time."
Nichols said when she started dating her partner, Bill Nichols, the man
who later became her husband, some officers stopped talking to him. "When
we got married we lost some friends because I was a woman officer."
In any case, Nichols wasn't too offended by the comments or actions simply
because she knew "We were invading a man's world."
"I know I've lost potential partners, and some partners took crap because
of me," Nichols said. "Then wives were a major problem. They'd assumed I
was out to get their husband - that was my goal in getting on with the Highway
Patrol. They were wrong."
Early on in their patrol careers, they encountered a wide range of reactions
from motorists.
"I ran into women who'd unbutton their blouses or hike up their skirts
in hopes they'd get out of a ticket and I'd think to myself, 'It's not going
to work.' And they'd be surprised to see it was a female officer," Lt. Harrison
said. "I've also had men shake their fist at me and say 'If you weren't a
woman I'd deck you one.' It was because of the oddity of women officers.
I remember one time this guy in a new Corvette went under a truck because
he was watching me. He was so mad and blamed me for the crash because he
hadn't seen a female officer before. I told him 'Sorry, but you still need
to pay attention to your driving'."
Officer Nichols said she's "cleared out a lot of bathrooms."
"Women would see the uniform and run out screaming thinking a man had
come into the bathroom," she said. "They were just so used to seeing the
uniform and not see who was wearing it. Then I've had a lot of people reply
'Yes sir or No sir' because they were used to male officers."
Over the years they've noted a change - for the better - as more women
join the ranks.
"At first it was tough. If you made a mistake all of us got scrutinized.
But it's improved a lot since then," Hartz said.
"Women are more accepted now, and we're here to stay," Kelly said.
Twenty-five years later, Hartz, like the others, doesn't think twice about
the career decision she's made. "I still get comments like 'Nice to see women
doing this ... I'm very happy to be doing what I'm doing."
Nichols echoed Hartz' sentiments. "I enjoy my work with the Highway Patrol.
I enjoy the element of surprise. Not knowing what's happening next makes
it interesting. I like the job, and I get to meet people and help them -
whether they like it or not."
Reprinted with permission from the California Highway
Patrolman magazine. |