5 minute read
Constable ‘Johnson'
*Constable Johnson is a pseudonym to protect the identity of the Victoria Police officer and their family members.
The story of Constable ‘Johnson’ is not one you would expect of a police officer.
Written in their own words, it’s a story of someone who lived through abuse, poverty, homelessness, assaults, drug use and the loss of loved ones.
It is at times tragic, but not a tragedy.
It’s a story of hope and triumph. It’s a story that shows almost anyone can turn their life around. It’s a story of a proud officer of Victoria Police who has now dedicated their life to helping and protecting the community.
This is Constable Johnson’s story.
I never wanted to become a police officer. In fact, I never thought it was possible for me to become a police officer.
My father was an alcoholic and homeless when he was young. He left my family when I was a baby.
Several years later, my mother eventually found him – with another woman.
One of my earliest memories was crawling under the bed and covering my ears when I would hear my father physically abusing my mother.
Gradually, I began to run away from home to escape the violence. I found solace on the streets.
Although my mother tried to protect us at times, she often sided with my father when he became violent.
Police began to make visits to our house, after being called by the neighbours.
I ran away from home for the final time in my early teens after a fight where my father bashed my mother and I. The neighbours again called the police.
The last thing I remember was running away from home while I heard the sirens coming.
During this period, I had involvements in the court process, I saw how difficult it can be to go through the courts as a child.
The next several years, up until my adulthood, were spent living in numerous youth refuges and on the streets. My roommates in the refuge ranged from juvenile justice parolees to high-risk violent offenders and mentally ill outpatients.
The youth home dynamics were violent, unpredictable and dangerous at times.
I engaged in high-risk destructive behaviour with other street kids. I used hard drugs, fought often and consequently caught the attention of local police. I was regularly stopped, searched, or moved on. My lack of understanding and immaturity only fuelled my anger and animosity, not only towards police but any authority figure.
I did, however, learn and see certain things that stay with me; reading people’s eyes, feeling their energies. I learned when to stand my ground, walk away or run. This helped me navigate my world during that time.
A youth worker once told me there are two paths destined for a homeless kid: prison or death. For a while, I believed that.
The Children's Court and the suburban street that held a junkyard that Constable Johnson would sleep in after running away from home were some of the regular settings of the police officer's difficult childhood.
He said, according to statistics, street kids were not likely to make it out of the system and the only way to do so was to try something at which many had failed. The alternative was to give up.
The catalyst came when my sibling attempted suicide for the second time. That sibling later ended up in the red-light district and became addicted to hard drugs. Some of my former roommates in the youth homes ended up in prison. Some died on the street.
Finally, I began to seek help from counsellors and youth workers. I broke away from drug use, withdrew from certain associates and focused on my fitness. My fanatical desperation to escape the streets became my obsession, day and night.
Eventually I applied to join the Australian Defence Force (ADF) and was accepted. The ADF gave me a home and the discipline I lacked in my life and replaced the turbulent behaviours of my adolescence.
Although I struggled at times with the structure, I finally found purpose and meaning in my life by wearing a uniform and working towards a common goal.
After my service, I had serious considerations of joining the police force. I knew there would be red flags in my past and that I had to be aware of certain challenges I would face as a police officer.
I applied to join the force but was doubtful of my chances. I took a risk and put all my cards on the table. I would speak openly and honestly about my past.
The Recruiting Services Branch staff were supportive and helpful throughout the application process. They assess each case individually and to have made mistakes in the past is not as important as recognising the mistakes and being upfront and honest about it.
For my final panel interview I had two detectives from a particular field chosen specifically to interview me.
Again, I had many doubts about my application. However, the detectives did not agree with my doubts; they recommended me, and I was accepted to join Victoria Police.
I got in contact with one of the detectives a few months later and he offered to mentor me. I was nervous but, nonetheless, I accepted.
At the Academy, my squad became my family. I cherish every single member of my squad deeply. They helped me not only get through the Academy but accepted me in their personal lives.
Eventually, I invited the detective to come and watch my graduation ceremony.
I feel he believes in me, something I am not used to. I know he sees something in me which I struggle to see in myself at times.
I believe that my story is neither significant nor one to be commended, that’s my reason for writing this anonymously. The struggles I have experienced in my life pale in comparison to many other youths I have encountered on the street and in the youth homes.
I am not proud of what I have done in the past. I once contributed to this society with hate and destruction in my heart.
My wish is to return to the same society and try to right the wrongs that I have done and give hope and belief to those no one believed in.
