"How can we help you?"
The dialogues of community police workBy: Diane Hartnett
Two UMass Dartmouth graduates have found their way to careers in law enforcement and positions as police chiefs. Ronald Teachman '76 now heads the force in the state's seventh largest city, while Mary Lyons '81 is just down the road, in comparatively small Mattapoisett. Neither enrolled in the university with a law enforcement career in mind, but ironically their college experiences steered both in that direction.
When Ronald Teachman was studying political science at Southeastern Massachusetts University, he considered doing a stint in the Peace Corps after graduation.
Then he thought that perhaps he'd leave his native New Bedford to teach youngsters in another urban area.
Neither the Peace Corps nor the move from his hometown ever took place. Instead Teachman stayed in his own backyard, and thanks to a curious series of events that began unfolding in his student days, the '76 graduate has become one of New Bedford's most high-profile residents- chief of police of the state's seventh-largest city.
It is hardly an easy job, given contemporary realities and the unflattering media attention New Bedford often receives. But Teachman "loves it," drawn by the opportunity to try innovative approaches and involve the community in his efforts.
Over 30 years on the force, Teachman had risen to captain rank when new mayor Scott Lang named him to lead the 289-member department last spring. Classmates from SMU may have been surprised; "I certainly was one of very few guys in the room with long hair" during the Civil Service police exam Teachman took while still in college.
The test was actually part of a class project from then-sociology professor Will Tate, who maintained that a subtle racism-such as test biases-could hide behind initiatives such as affirmative action. Teachman agreed to take the next scheduled Civil Service exam to test the theory, and it happened to be the one for municipal police appointments.
Scores were delayed for 15 months, pending settlement of, ironically, a charge of gender bias by female applicants. By then, Teachman had graduated, and was taking post-graduate courses for teacher certification while working at the Center for Human Services, where he got to know a number of police officers. The Civil Service exam was virtually forgotten until an officer visited his family to complete a background check on him-Teachman had finished in the top 10 of New Bedford residents taking the test.
"And I decided that rather than go someplace like Detroit, why not stay in your own hometown and serve your own city?"
Now he serves the city in a position with both greater demands and opportunities. Asked about stemming crime rates, Teachman talks of the critical importance of "reaching out to the community," a community that encompasses neighborhood and civic organizations, educators, the clergy, businesses, politicians, and young people, individually and in groups. "Community policing" goes beyond the neighborhood officer, on foot or in cruisers, and the community officers squad. It also means dialogue that can translate into action with all the forces that comprise New Bedford. Teachman spends considerable time meeting with all sorts of groups on their issues and concerns. "That gives me a greater depth and breadth of knowledge about this city.
"I hope the theme of this department is, 'How can we help you?'"
That is the question Teachman posed repeatedly, to a series of constituencies, during his swearing-in ceremony. It was a vehicle for conveying his priorities and intentions.
To those with information about unsolved murders, said Teachman, "How can we help you find the courage to come forward? How can we help you recognize your moral duty...and understand you are safer with the murderers behind bars than walking among us?"
To neighborhood activists: "How can we work together to stop the littering, the graffiti, the property neglect...the drug dealing, and other nuisances that devalue your home and your neighborhood?"
To New Bedford police officers: "How can we keep our focus on helping people, which was the reason we all gave for joining the force however long ago?"
Teachman was shaped, to a large extent, by all that occurred in his youth: the legacy of JFK, the Vietnam War, and the civil rights movement. His mother, a legal secretary most of her life, at one point worked at the Fort Rodman Job Corps. Teachmen met many of the young black men who worked in that program, and watched some play with the New Bedford Sweepers football team. That many of the men were greeted with hostility surprised Teachman, but also taught him about prejudice and ignorance.
And he dealt with that in the wake of the 2006 "gay bar" attacks by Jacob Robida, who later died in a gun battle with Arizona police. City officials, the police, and residents denounced the act as counter to the inclusive nature of New Bedford. Says Teachman (not chief at the time), "There is nothing this community did to own that, or be responsible for it. Jacob Robida did it." When reporters asked about the "need" for a vigil on the year anniversary of the tragedy, Teachman replied, "If you are trying to confront hate, you need to be vigilant, with ongoing reminders that you do need to do that."
Articulate and affable, Teachman offers opinions freely and gives thoughtful, detailed answers to questions. He holds a bachelor's in criminal justice from Salve Regina College and a law degree from New England School of Law. He volunteers with the SMILES mentoring program, spending time each week with a New Bedford youngster.
Despite what many may think, he believes New Bedford is a safe community, but people do carry some responsibility for their well-being: "I think everyone has to be more conscientious.... You don't leave your keys in your car or your car running."
That the mayor named a police chief who began as a patrolman and rose through the ranks is, in Teachman's words, "best case scenario."
"There's not the learning curve that would be involved otherwise. I know this city-I've never left and have been comfortable here. I know the leaders, elected and not elected."
Hiring outside the department dampens morale-"it's tough if you put a glass ceiling on people." It also declares that no veteran officer is qualified, and whose fault is that, Teachman asks rhetorically. "If we aren't able, then why weren't we given opportunities for professional development?
"I hope that part of my legacy is that the person who follows me comes from within and does a better job."
Beyond enforcement
1981 alumna Mary Lyons is one of a handful of female police chiefs in the state
Invite all of the female police chiefs for Massachusetts' communities to dinner, and don't worry about the room size-there would be only four at the table.
And 1981 graduate Mary Lyons is one. Lyons, who majored in psychology, has been chief of police in Mattapoisett since 2001. After stints as a UMass Dartmouth officer and emergency medical technician in Mattapoisett, she became the town's first female patrol officer in 1985, and was promoted to detective in '93.
Lyons wasn't named chief because she was female. But she does feel that women bring a distinctive, invaluable perspective to police work.
Such as the ability to empathize with female crime victims, an ability Lyons demonstrated in investigating one of the area's most notorious cases, 1997 rape charges against a well-liked teacher and coach. While the bulk of her work involves less sensational, more typical small-town crime, she has pursued a man suspected of trying to lure a 13-year-old girl to another state and handled a computer hacker fraud case.
She is enthusiastic about her work: "I have a very good job here. We have a very good police force and everyone gets along well." Yet she sought the top spot when it became available six years ago only when pressed by colleagues. "I think they thought that it would be beneficial for everybody. They see me as open and honest and fair, and I'm a pretty direct person."
Being chief in a town with a population of 6,500 (considerably higher during the summer) has its special challenges. No matter how low a social profile she maintains, there is an easy familiarity between residents and police chief that's absent in larger communities. Lyons often finds herself more of a mediator and advisor than enforcer, and "you have to be a good listener.
"I like the constant change there is in police work, the excitement, the ability to use the law in ways other than only enforcement, to help people.
"You need the right temperament, and you definitely have to like people. You cannot be a powermonger-and this is a position of power, where what you do has a tremendous impact on people's lives. So you must have a sense of compassion."
Lyons' father, grandfather, and brother were police officers, but she had no plans for a law enforcement career when she started at SMU. While "everyone thought I could be a great nurse," Lyons was thinking social work. As a student, she worked as a dispatcher for the public safety department and joined the Department of Social Services' KEY program in Fall River after graduation. But when then-chief Ray McKearney had an opening on the campus force, he offered her the job and Lyons became the university's first female officer.
She subsequently was certified as an emergency medical technician on the Mattapoisett force. When offered a police department post there, she demurred until she could work on patrol, rather than "inside." Joining the department in '85 as its first female patrol officer was another landmark for Lyons.
When she became detective eight years later, it became Lyons' job to investigate the explosive charges against Old Rochester Regional gym teacher and coach John Shockro. The accusations of rape against the widely- known, hitherto well-respected figure sent Mattapoisett reeling, brought the national media to the town, and led to bitter conflicts among townspeople.
Lyons stayed detached from the controversy as she doggedly pursued leads, separated rumor from fact, and interviewed more than 100 persons, not all of them willing to be drawn into the case. Shockro ultimately pleaded guilty to raping two students and was jailed for eight years.
"I just persevered and did what I had to do," Lyons recalls, who says her training and her instincts convinced her of the truthfulness of Shockro's accusers.
"I think I was one of the first people who believed them," during a tumultuous time when many considered the victims liars and worse. "I know it was easier for them to talk to me, as a woman. I also know that it is therapeutic for people to feel that others believe in them and will prosecute on their behalf."
Asked about the personal impact of undertaking such a divisive investigation-and in her own hometown-Lyons says, "I tried to keep my emotions in check. I think I was so tired that it was difficult to feel much emotion." The case, she feels, had a widespread benefit: people became more willing to disclose they had been victimized, and more confident that they would be vindicated.
Lyons, who has a master's in criminal justice from Anna Maria College, has emerged as a leader among her colleagues. She heads the Southeastern Massachusetts Law Enforcement Council, whose 21 member communities share information and assistance, and is also Southeastern Massachusetts Police Chief Association president. Now third vice president of the Massachusetts Chiefs of Police Association, Lyons will assume the presidency in four years.
Crime is neither as violent nor as pervasive in Mattapoisett as in urban areas. But Lyons says her 28-member force (four of them women) must be as prepared for murders as it is for burglaries. She believes today's police officers "absolutely" need a college education, and not only for the analytical abilities it instills. "It gives you the opportunity to see what's beyond your own white picket fence, to learn about diversity and interact with a whole other dynamic."She has no current plans to seek a spot on a larger force in a busier community. "Law enforcement is a great career. You can always advance. There may be more opportunity in a bigger department, but not necessarily more happiness."
Diane Hartnett is the writer for the university Publications Office
Spring 2006
