Blogit / Kolumnit
Keskiviikko 23.2.2022 - Andy De Santis
Andy de Santis is an officer based in Westminster who works on Safer Neighbourhoods and volunteers as a Met LGBT+ Adviser. As part of our series of blogs for LGBT+ History Month, he reflects on the history of the relationship between the authorities and the community and how things have changed.
PC Andy De Santis. Foto: Metropolitan Police
“There is a reason that gay people need the respect and the protection of the police. We’ve been a prosecuted minority for thousands of years, and that threat never ever goes completely away. We feel it still.”
Quote from Four Lives (television drama on the Stephen Port case)
And now in 2022 we find ourselves in the midst of another LGBT+ History Month, where so much more could be said about the quote above, from a programme that depicted a terrible case. Yet, if we do not acknowledge and learn from history, we are condemned to repeat it. The Met as an organisation wants to regain the trust and confidence of communities by learning from its past.
On a blog post that I was invited to write previously for the internal Met forums, I talked about some of the history about the community with the police. It’s important to remember that in other countries (some with links to the Commonwealth), the community still faces criminalisation and more abuse.
In Brazil, where I’m from – my trans siblings are still being murdered at a fast pace. Count yourself lucky if you have never had to be alert to what you wear or holding the hand of your partner in public because you are afraid to attract unwanted attention. Even more if you never had to google if the place you’re travelling to is safe for LGBT+ people.
Yet, as we finally appear to be coming to the end of the Covid-19 pandemic, it feels timely and even necessary, to remember the community repercussions of a past pandemic.
At a time when the community was already struggling with criminalisation, HIV started to become an issue. The first reported death in London was noted in 1981 – but only confirmed a year later to be down to a HIV-related illness.
The news drove the community into a panic; there are three incredible episodes worth listening to on this from season two of the podcast ‘The Log Books’ by Switchboard LGBT+ Helpline, a long standing support service.
Documentaries were released, centred around the life of LGBT+ people and calling HIV 'the gay killer disease'. The extent of the disease was also blamed on the 'promiscuous nature of the gay community for spreading it across the world'.
News headlines were not kind, making it difficult to those living with HIV and for those losing loved ones to the disease.
The stigma around it still exists in modern times, with a poll in Time Magazine in 2019 showing that almost half of British people would feel uncomfortable kissing someone with HIV, while 38 per cent would feel uncomfortable going on a date with someone who is HIV positive.
The irony is that the government issued scary adverts back in the day labelled 'Don’t Die Of Ignorance', yet research like the poll quoted shows that there is still a persistence in ignorant views, which saddens me.
As we know today, HIV is not as easy to transmit – being on medication can prevent transmission and there is also PREP, a new medicine to protect against transmission.
It’s also worth remembering that the best form of prevention is awareness, and this includes everyone, so it’s good to check your sexual health regularly.
On the back of this came Section 28, at a time the community was stigmatised and discriminated against. As they fought for equality, the government introduced Section 28, which prohibited local authorities and schools from promoting (or educating) about homosexuality.
At that time, about 75 per cent of the population believed that homosexuality was mostly or always wrong. Police attitudes became increasingly hostile with bars and clubs being raided. Undercover officers were placed inside LGBT+ 'safe spaces' and the community was criminalised.
These were tactics that we would certainly question today, but that was common practice at the time. Not having community members as part of the police, was probably was not helpful when it came to understanding their consequences.
The whole criminal element to being LGBT+ dates back to 1533 when, during Henry VIII’s reign, homosexual sexual acts between men were made a crime, and then again in 1885 when during the Victorian era, any display of affection between men was outlawed.
In this atmosphere, more than 15,000 gay men were convicted in the decades that followed legalisation in 1967. By the 1990s, gay and bisexual men, trans people, drag performers and some lesbians continued to be arrested for public displays of affection. For more about this history, I’d recommend Peter Tatchell’s brilliant article.
The Royal Vauxhall Tavern (RVT) in London was raided frequently, and the blue gloves that we still wear when dealing with incidents can trigger a terrible memory for the community. This is because, as HIV infections grew, the community perception then was that police officers were treating them as 'sub-human'.
On one notorious raid on the evening of 24 January 1987, after three decades of actions like this and at the height of the epidemic, 35 police officers donned blue rubber gloves, raided the pub and carted customers into waiting vans outside.
Many arrests were made on that day on the grounds of drunken people in licenced premises, and this was also a catalyst moment where the negative press generated forced police to reconsider their approach and relationship with the LGBT+ community.
There is so much about history that we could cover, and I share these examples to help understand the past, changes to public attitude and perception, and where we stand now. This year has been educational with TV programmes such as Four Lives, It’s a Sin and Des, programmes that I feel every copper could benefit from watching.
However, it is important to recognise that attitudes have changed. I am one of the LGBT+ advisers within the Met and I am so proud and enthusiastic about this role. Colleagues have reached out to me to explain terminology or even cultural aspects of the community that they don’t understand or don’t know much about. I have assisted in catching suspects who cause harm to the community, through the knowledge and experience I have as an officer and community member. This has also been made possible by investigating officers trusting my advice, when approached.
On a more recent occasion, when a man under arrest shouted homophobic abuse at officers, even though it was not directed at me, I had their support when I said I wanted him further arrested for that matter. It was an incredible experience, where I felt that my colleagues really understood that the language and behaviour is not welcome in our organisation and society. The person was found guilty of the offence, due to the amount of evidence and statements provided, including my own.
Being an adviser also helps in interactions with LGBT+ victims where they can see my badge and understand that I walk in their shoes. Finally, I regularly go out to the community to help them understand my work as an officer, and how I can support them.
Yet we can only do so much, as we need colleagues and allies wanting and willing to work with us to help us improve relations. I’d urge anyone who wants to get involved to reach out to the Met LGBT+ advisers on their local borough where they live. This call out also goes to the community, as we depend on your knowledge and support to be able to police effectively.
More recently, the Home Office has announced an extension to its 2017 pardons scheme, which will potentially encourage those criminalised for offences no longer on the statute book to come forward.
As if living with a criminal history was not difficult enough – and although the move seems bold and necessary – I wonder if this a positive.
Can we simply erase years of conflict and marginalisation with a pardon - what do you think?
It can be easy to dismiss history as identity politics, but for some people, such as myself who are part of the LGBT+ community and an immigrant; it’s very much a reality that we face.
I hope you enjoyed this 'quick dive' into the past to mark LGBT+ history month.
For those who want to find out more, the following are well worth dipping into:
Podcast: The Log Books
Andy De Santis
Tiistai 8.2.2022 klo 19:17 - Declan Halton-Woodward
In the first of a series of blogs from officers to mark LGBT+ history month, Declan Halton-Woodward, the communications and media relations lead for the Met's LGBT+ staff network, shares his story below. Declan is a special Chief Inspector covering Hackney and Tower Hamlets boroughs, and an army reservist.
Foto: Metropolitan Police
I previously worked as a senior advisor to financial services, in operations at defence/security firms and travelled the globe as chief of staff to a high net-worth individual. Then I found out through a chance comment by a friend at Kent Police that if I joined as a special, I wouldn’t have to give up my career to be involved in policing.
From an early age I always had a strong sense of right and wrong, duty and desire to give back to the community, which I think led me to be interested in policing. . Another factor that influenced me was the differing levels of service I had previously received from police as a victim of two homophobic assaults, one was amazing, while the other left me feeling worse that the attack itself. I wanted to do something that mattered, and for me it was far better to go and do the job and ‘be the difference’ you want to see, rather than moaning as an armchair critic. But growing up in an Irish Catholic republican family, anything to do with national service for the British ‘establishment’ was a big no-no. When I joined the police, my family relations completely broke down and never quite recovered, the Hendon passing out parade was a lonely place!
After I joined the Met, my entire perception of policing changed and I very quickly began to understand the difficulties of modern policing, not least as I realised the problems and solutions to things like violence and anti-social behaviour are multi-agency and societal, whereas so often the media will portray it singularly at the Met’s door. It's not as simple as good or bad and I'd encourage journalists and others to come out with us and recognise the issues are far more complex - I'm still learning about them myself. Despite all these challenges, I know we achieve some truly excellent results; we do good every single day. Throughout my time in the Met, I’ve witnessed this passion and the heroic work of officers, be it operations to target youth gangs where we made real inroads in getting children out of the worst situations or when, in response to the Black Lives Matter movement, we run an operation where we went directly into the homes of black community members, listening, learning and having difficult conversations about race in Britain. It was hard but progressive and productive, and really eye-opening for me; the similarity between homophobic discrimination could not be overlooked.
We all have low points in the job too, for me, this has always been when responding to incidents where you can’t do the good you want to, where things are outside of your control. Like when we responded to an attempted suicide of a female who’d cut her wrists, and written derogatory terms about herself in her own blood on the mirror. You give her immediate medical attention, patch her up and send her away to hospital. We tried to clean up her flat and mirror before we left, but did we really solve any problems that day?. While those times can be dispiriting, the days where you feel that you have done some real good enable you to ride on that high until the next time.
In terms of the staff LGBT+ network, I joined as I wanted to be part of the conversation for those Met employees and members of the public, and I'd seen some great work done there. When it comes to the question of the police and institutional homophobia, I'd say that if one accepts society is still homophobic, then as the police is made up of members of society, the organisation will be to the same extent as the society which it reflects, no more or less. I always say that the prejudice I’ve seen in the private sector is far worse than anything I've ever encountered in the police. While I am not saying homophobia doesn't exist at all in the Met, I think we are making some real inroads to address it and there are some senior officers genuinely passionate about diversity and inclusion. All that being said, there are areas where we must do better - in recruitment, in ongoing support including when officers suffer hate crime in the street and in promotion processes.
A test of an organisation's moral compass is how they support those most hard done by, and we clearly have work to do as we know a large proportion of our LGBT+ staff don't feel confident in seeking promotion, coming out or being their whole selves. It easy to forget that the LGBT+ isn’t just gay men, it’s made up of all sorts of people, genders, sexualities and identities, each as important to support as the last. More representation in senior ranks, and getting rid of the old school banter mentality that persists in some teams, and creating an environment where everyone can be open and safe in every team in the Met is where we begin, and it’s everyone’s responsibility. The Met is trying hard to dispel sexism and misogyny and I think those type of attitudes often go hand-in-hand with homophobic and transphobic discrimination. As the Commissioner has said: enough is enough.
There is no doubt that the Stephen Port case has significantly impacted community confidence, including with us in the network, not just from a police perspective, but as members of those communities. Watching the BBC drama was difficult for me, at multiple points I remember thinking 'what have we done', wanting to shake the actors into some logic, and feeling quite vulnerable as a gay man. It certainly brought it home and it's really upset me and lots of colleagues - it's horrible to think people are questioning their association with the Met because of it. On the positive side though, I think the Met is a different place even from four years ago and that we evolve very quickly - we are far more diverse in terms of new staff, and have made some fundamental changes like significant improvements in how we investigate sudden deaths. We made some terrible mistakes, and in our job these cost lives, unlike in any other profession. We can't smooth it over, or defend it, we must apologise as we have done and do everything we can to get better. The weight of the role is almost unbearable, we have to get it right every time, and when we respond to over 9,000 incidents a day, it feels like an impossible ask.
As the Martin Luther King quote from this year's LGBT+ month's official theme notes, 'the arc of the moral universe is long but it bends towards justice'. Real fundamental change takes generations, but it starts with each of us. The Met is a place for Londoners, in all their diversity and glory, it’s where I found my passion and is the best thing I have ever done in my life… this History Month, let’s make sure everyone else feels the same…