Last week I found out that I have not been selected for the London Policing Board. But this piece isn’t about that. It is about how much I learned from taking my shot and going for it.
Rejection always stings and there is no getting around the fact that being told that you have not been selected always feels a bit like a kick in the teeth. But in this case, I knew it was always a long shot. MOPAC has an incredibly difficult job of putting together a jigsaw puzzle of dedicated civilians that are committed to being part of forcing the Metropolitan Police to reform. Having been through the process, I hope that the men and women selected are able to hold the Met to account and force the deep reform needed. I fully endorse the independent panel and the spirit in which it will operate.
I got through to the final round of panel interviews, and if you had told me that my tweet about holding a Sarah Everard Vigil in March of 2021 would put me in City Hall interviewing two years later; I would have looked at you like you were insane. The journey to get here has been educational and hard and painful, but I’ve found my voice and purpose in the process.
Four days before my final panel interview at City Hall, I got the fear. What was I playing at? Would all of the people that had sat on boards before or been elected to positions think I was no more than a talking head?
Put me live on prime time BBC and I am confident and can make my point succinctly and powerfully; but this? This was a whole new ball game that was completely out of my comfort zone. I’ve not been on a board. I’m not a politician and have no political ambitions. I just am determined to use what I have learned over the last 2 years as an advocate for women’s safety and police reform to instigate progress and change.
After testifying for the Casey Review, this seemed like the best route to be an agent for change. Another two years of being critical on television and radio did not seem as effective as having a position to make the Met listen to my issues. Mark Rowley and the “New Met” has never so much as invited Reclaim These Streets in for a coffee. There has not been a single overture. The one and only time I have been inside Scotland Yard was when I was trying to support Pregnant Then Screwed and requested a meeting with Louisa Rolfe. There was no follow up.
I don’t generally experience a lot of Imposter Syndrome; but all of a sudden I felt woefully out of my depth and the only thing guaranteed was that if I entered that room with that mindset; I would not do myself proud. But I needed help to remind myself that I could in fact do it. This would be a perfect time to insert a motivational call from my late mom; but sometimes telling myself what she would say only gets me so far.
I knew what I have accomplished over the past two years for women and why I wanted to be in the room where it happens. I knew I was there for every woman that had suffered police perpetrated violence against them and been ignored or belittled. For the women that come to me every week for help. For the women that trust me with their stories.
I knew my fear was irrational. I knew they would not have put me through to the final round if I wasn’t deserving of the opportunity; but I was in my own head and couldn’t talk myself around. So, I did the only logical thing I could think of and privately reached out to the highest profile woman I know, Queen Nigella. Well, “know” on twitter. We met once over ten years ago at Stylist Magazine and she has been publicly supportive of me and my work with Reclaim These Streets.
I slid into Nigella’s DMs (as you do).
Ed Note: these are published with her permission
Her thoughtful response coupled with deciding to get a fierce bob to feel armed for the interview, and all of a sudden I was back on the front foot.
I know a haircut shouldn’t matter, but as we all know from Fleabag, ‘hair is everything.” I told my hairdresser why I was there. That it was armour. That I needed a costume to shake me out of my own insecurities. To pretend that I was ready for the boardroom, until I forgot I was pretending.
And, I don’t know if luck is the word. But the haircut coincided with a story about the Met selling sexual assault victim’s private data to Meta. And just like that. A magic combination of Nigella wisdom, a haircut and a reminder of the horrible wrongs that women face at the hands of the Met reminded me of my purpose for applying in the first place. I had as many questions for them about the teeth of the panel and if being on it would muzzle my loud and ongoing public criticism of the Met.
The Mayor’s Office wanted a cross section of people to make up the board. Baroness Casey specifically recommended that it be paid to attract people that usually aren’t on voluntary boards. And let’s be honest, it would be an amazing PR move to actually appoint me, so this was not a one way process. I had questions for the panel and I was clear that my critique would not end if I was appointed. They were also clear that they would not be using this position as a way to silence my advocacy.
My background mattered less than my determination to be an agent of change and I thought I would have more leeway to move that barometer if I was part of the board.
Between Nigella’s sound advice and the haircut; I kicked the imposter syndrome out of my head. The night before the interview, my tone had completely changed. I was excited to take the interview on and was hopeful I would actually be appointed.
I was the first candidate up, at 9 am on Monday morning. I made my way to City Hall for the first time. The panel interview was the best interview I have ever done. The questions were about how I have used my work experiences to influence change; tackle challenging audiences and represent communities that I am not a part of.
I was honest, unapologetically me and enthusiastic about the work I have done and the work that needs doing. I felt very seen and heard and the hour flew by. I enjoyed it and if anything it reinvigorated my commitment to my work in both women’s safety and police reform. I left nothing behind. I did the absolutely best I could have possibly done; and what could feel better than that?
My tweet about holding the vigil was March 10, 2021. I’ve only had two years of being an activist. There are so many women who have been fighting for decades. My learning of this process was about being willing to take a different route to collaborative change.
I do know that I went for the big scary thing and am proud that I did. I have learned a huge amount and the next time I apply for a governing board, I might not have to ask Nigella for advice.
I look forward to seeing what the Board does with the oversight of reform that they hold. I know how difficult it was to get that seat at the table and I am sure that each of those people will give the responsibility the huge respect it deserves. I applaud each of them for committing themselves to the task of overseeing the reform of the institutionally racist, sexist and homophobic culture of the Metropolitan Police. We certainly need it and them.
This is such a great account of you overcoming that damned imposter syndrome and this whole process and I so hear you re: the power of new hair do armour. Thanks for writing it Jamie.