Let us show our police forces the respect that they deserve - Christa Ackroyd

I am reminded how fortunate we were every summer as schools prepare to break up for the long summer holidays.

Every morning if the weather was good my mum would question why we weren’t ‘playing out’.

And yes we had ‘playing out’ clothes because we were outside from early in the morning until it started getting dark, only popping home for tea before dashing out again.

But never on a Sunday. We had no mobile phones to communicate or text with and the house phone was used sparingly.

So we would simply knock on our neighbours’ doors and ask if so and so was playing out. It’s funny but it was always a parent who came to the door, as I recall, who would then summon the said friend demanding to know why not, if the answer was less than favourable.

Playing out was deemed good for us. And it was.

And so we would set off without money in our pockets or any means of contacting home. But we were never afraid and we never ventured out alone.

There was always someone happy to join that day’s adventure, unencumbered as we were from the distraction of mobile phones or tablets or even day time TV.

We wandered near and far – fishing in streams, climbing trees, having picnics of jam sandwiches with an empty pop bottle filled with squash and maybe an apple, to spend the day making dens and memories.

And we always felt safe. Whether we were is a different matter. But we learned what risks to take and how to look out for each other.

You could get away with nothing on our street. It was a time when everybody knew everybody. And more importantly who was the culprit if you crossed the line. My dad was a policeman, although even he wasn’t as strict as mum.

Rules were rules and manners were everything. But we respected his position and his uniform and nd that of the two other bobbies who lived in the street. So we were told in no uncertain terms not to put a foot wrong. The law was watching.

It was an era when to be the daughter of a police officer was quite something. Not only did they know how to throw the best Christmas parties with the best presents from Father Christmas, but it was something to boast about to your friends.

Something to be proud of, even if he did insist on picking me up in uniform from my first forays into teenage life, You certainly made sure you weren’t late or questions would be asked by those not in the know about why the policeman had come inside the local youth club to take you home.

To wear the badge was to wear it as a badge of honour and do you know something it still is. It is times that have changed not the respect the job demands.

But my goodness what a difficult job it is now and so we must listen to those in the know when they tell us policing must change.

This last week many senior officers have put their heads above the parapet and called for action. Quite simply they say the 2.3 per cent increase in funding will not be enough to do all that we demand of those whose job it is to keep us safe.

We have lost thousands of police officers along the way and by the time the last government realised they needed to recruit more, many experienced officers had gone, leaving less experienced policemen and women to take their place.

Support staff were cut to the bone leaving one police chief to moan that his officers spent more time doing admin than they did policing the streets.

Then this week the boss of the biggest force suggested in order to save money forces should be cut from 43 into a little as 12. It seems instinctively wrong.

Shouldn’t local bobbies be just that, knowing the communities they serve? But I am prepared to accept that if combining expertise and resources leads to better policing, those in charge know best.

The devil as always is in the detail. But then came the message that I totally and wholeheartedly agree with.

Far from legalising cannabis there is a call from police to up their game in curbing it’s use more stringently and I couldn’t agree more.

There is not a town or city that doesn’t stink of weed, or even worse the stronger more dangerously potent, skunk.

Forget the sixties when peace and love and the Beatles brought the smoking of cannabis to the fore. The substances on sale now are far more potent and far more dangerous.

And you can lecture me all you like about how beneficial it is medically and I will tell you I agree.

So buy it or ask your doctor for it for medical use, with the dizzy making trippy stuff removed. Because not only does cannabis with its sickly aroma make us feel less safe when we smell it, it is proven to be less safe than any of us thought when it is over indulged in.

Cannabis is not only a gateway drug for dealers and users alike, but it is part of a criminal network that includes trafficking illegal migrants to grow it and drug gangs to sell it, with a whole host of other illicit stuff they will try and sell too.

The stronger it gets the more dangerous it is and the psychological damage it causes to some, not all, who take it, is now a medical fact.

Forget calm and tranquility, we now know it leads to violence, psychotic episodes, even murder, as we saw in the recent horrific case of a young schoolboy killed with a Samurai sword by a man whose mental state was as a result of cannabis misuse.

And there are many more less horrific examples. Medics, psychiatrists and police all agree the wrong kind and the wrong amount can and does have disastrous consequences.

In the old days we would take note of our police officers. They are after all simply members of the public who have decided that their calling is to keep the public safe.

I for one don’t like the fact that a middle layer of control is largely political with the appointment of police and crime commissioners chosen often because of the party they support with no more experience than you or I. But we really must listen to the warning signs.

If they say they cannot keep us safe because of financial constraints then woe betide anyone who expects them to come running for a break in or a car theft.

And if they argue against decriminalisation of certain drugs then we must back them.

It is certainly true that trust in the police has suffered during the last few years. Now we must listen to those whose job it is to restore that trust.

I will always be proud to be the daughter of a police officer. Let us show them now as then, the respect they deserve.

And listen when they tell us we are going down the wrong path.