Women in the RCMP

"Troop up!"

Two words to gather the 31 fresh-faced women into a military formation that Cheryl Joyce boomed time and time again at the RCMP Academy, Depot Division, after she became part of the first female troop to take residence in September 1974.

As the right marker and oldest member of the troop, the 29-year-old was responsible for overseeing Troop 17, including ensuring they marched together from class to class, maintaining discipline and harmony within the troop and providing almost-daily reports to the sergeant major who took a particular interest in the progress of the group.

"I would go to drop off the day's attendance sheets and nearly every day I hear: "Joyce, get in here" shouted from his office," she recalls.

"As a troop, we had our ups and downs but in the end we worked very well together," she says from her home in British Columbia's Okanagan Valley. "When I think back, some of the things that happened were pretty funny, but it was stressful at the time."

Sworn in on September 16, 1974, with five years of experience as a teacher under her belt, Joyce's career in the RCMP followed along the same path.

From the early days at Depot, to later becoming an instructor there, to her last assignment sharing restorative justice principles with police officers and the community, and then as an English as a second language coach in retirement, teaching is the thread that runs through Joyce's life.

"I loved being involved in trying to make things better for people," she explains.

Her passion was working with Aboriginal communities from her earliest postings in several detachments in the Edmonton, Alberta, area. "I really started to understand the history of reserves and the role that history played in the problems of people there," Joyce says. From lack of education and opportunities to a lack of parenting skills, the challenges were many. "I was really attracted to trying to make a difference for them."

The RCMP announced in May 1974 that it would accept applications from women. Joyce was teaching in Regina, Saskatchewan, and was friends with a Mountie who tried to get her to join. She didn't think it was for her but picked up an application to get information for her students. Much to her surprise, she found herself filling out the forms.

"I just wanted something that was outside of four walls," she recalls. "I needed to be out in the community."

Joyce's 30-year career started in Stony Plain, Alberta, located just west of Edmonton. As the first woman in the detachment, she was a source of curiosity at first. "I walked in the detachment and the secretary's first words were 'that's what you look like. Everybody's in the back waiting for you'," she laughs.

After 13 physical moves and as many different positions, Joyce doesn't even need a moment to say what she's most proud of when looking back on her career.

It was her last posting as the first National Restorative Justice Coordinator that had her travelling across the country - including 23 different communities in Nunavut alone - to teach fellow Mounties, Aboriginal elders and community volunteers how to better resolve issues involving non-criminal conflicts in their communities. Based on the traditional native healing circle, restorative justice is a non-adversarial approach to creating healthier, safer communities focused on healing for victims and accountability for offenders.

The impact of her work with Aboriginal people, particularly the Inuit, is felt through the art lining the walls in every room of her home. One that holds particular meaning is an ink etching of a rock cairn in the Arctic given to her by a woman in her 80s in the first Inuit community she visited. Her voice catching, Joyce says the woman had returned to school to learn to "record the history" of her people.

That she had an impact as a result of that first visit to an RCMP office to get career information for her students four decades ago can't be denied.

"It would bring tears to your eyes because of the healing that would take place," she says. "One woman actually thanked me for bringing back her culture. It was a passion and so rewarding to know I really was making a difference."

It was around the age of eight when Barb Alexander became enthralled with becoming a Mountie.

The time was the early 1960s in Fort St. John, British Columbia, a rough oil town in northeastern British Columbia, when her single mom was first asked to provide home-cooked meals to the local RCMP officers.

With six kids, her mom provided room and board to labourers to make a living. One day, some of the single Mounties started showing up. "They were tired of cooking for themselves so they started taking meals with us."

"They were such gentlemen," Alexander (nee Woods) recalls. "I didn't have a father and they were someone to look up to."

They had such an impact that she never really considered a career other than policing. She worked a summer job as a dispatcher with Nelson Sub Division and later worked the front counter with the Victoria police for two years.

It was while she was in Victoria that the RCMP announced on May 24, 1974, that it would take applications from women. "I called the staffing office that day and the man who answered happened to have been a co-worker when I was a dispatcher," says Alexander, laughing at how small the RCMP world can be.

By September 16th of that year she was sworn in and heading to the RCMP Academy, Depot Division, in Regina, Saskatchewan, to take up ranks in the first female troop - otherwise known as Troop 17.

Unlike many of her 31 troop mates, the then-20-year old didn't feel overwhelmed or nervous when she first walked onto the sprawling base.

She remembers that it was when she first saw other troops marching in formation from class to class that it really hit her; she was exactly where she'd wanted to be since those early years in Fort. St. John. "I was curious and I was so excited to finally be there."

And her career was so much more than she'd hoped. "It was a great career that was challenging and incredibly rewarding," she says from the home in Victoria where she retired with her late husband, also a veteran RCMP officer.

She learned early on in her first posting to Cranbrook, British Columbia that a good sense of humour was going to see her through as her fellow officers got used to having a woman working with them. An example she recalls is the day she received some uniform supplies at the detachment. At the time, included in the women's uniform "kit" were nylons, bras, and purses fashioned with a holster for the firearm, along with traditional items like the muskrat-lined hats for winter.

"They wrote 'winter-weight pantyhose' … on the brown paper wrapping the box," she laughs. "The Staff-Sergeant made them rewrap it because he couldn't be sure I would take it as a joke."

While she was enjoying the job, she was lonely. "I wasn't one of the guys, or the secretaries, or the wives. After work, I felt alone."

At the same time, she became involved in what would become the theme for the rest of her career, and ultimately build a community of friends.

A 14-year-old girl had been sexually assaulted by four men but wouldn't talk to the investigator at a neighbouring detachment. So Alexander was called in to see if the girl would open up to a woman. "She told me everything because she knew that on some level I could relate. And I was only six years older than she was!"

After a similar request at another detachment, it became clear that women in the community needed to be taught skills to keep themselves safe and Alexander soon started doing presentations on the subject.

A trip to Victoria and a meeting with the officer who wrote the "Lady Beware" program that Alexander wanted to implement in her detachment, changed her life forever. That officer was Don Alexander, the man who would become her husband.

One of their two daughters followed in their footsteps and joined the RCMP in 1995. "Don and I both presented Heather with her badge when she graduated from Depot," a first for the RCMP.

After several transfers and a five-year break when the children were young, Alexander made her after-hours passion her focus by joining the community policing unit in Port Alberni, British Columbia Her passion was recognized when she earned the first Crime Prevention Practitioner of the Year award for the province in 1988.

Her last posting three years before retiring in 2001 was with Crime Stoppers in Victoria creating re-enactments and other appeals for crime-solving tips from the public. "It was such a rewarding and fun posting - a great way to end my career." she says.

Part of the reason she retired was a growing business she created after a 1999 trip to the Indonesian paradise, Bali. Enamoured by the locals, she started a business designing and importing fabrics for women's clothing. Now, she organizes tours for women through her company, Bali Fiber Tours, and mentors locals starting their own small businesses. Her co-leader is troopmate, Cheryl Joyce.

In many ways her current work flows from her community policing work - both are about genuinely connecting with people and helping them help themselves.

And it's that impact she's most proud of. Two occasions come to mind to illustrate for Alexander: one of running into a man who, with tears in his eyes, told her how much of a difference she'd made in his family years earlier; and the second of the young woman in a grocery store who thanked Alexander for helping her get through her years of teenage rebellion.

"From time to time there's an occasion, a small but unforgettable moment. That's what made it all worthwhile."

It didn't take long for Donna Morse to prove she earned the right to police the streets of Port Alberni, British Columbia.

Just weeks out of training, the then 21-year-old member of Troop 17 found herself with a suspect's hands around her throat, squeezing the life out of her at a local fish and chips shop.

Two people had been pushed through a plate glass window of a neighbouring store, when they refused to give money to a large, long-haired blond man. Being a busy day, the detachment dispatched Morse alone. She approached the man inside the shop, and when she touched his shoulder to encourage him to go outside, he jumped up from the table and attacked.

The next thing Morse knew, she was fighting for her life. Using the "ground-fighting techniques" she learned at the RCMP Academy, Depot Division, she managed to free herself and get the man in the back of her cruiser.

"I was scared but not scared off," she says. "It showed I was well trained because it was all instinct." The man - well known by the local RCMP - received a sentence of two years less a day in jail.

While it was not the ideal way to prove her mettle, Morse (nee Burns) knows it was a pivotal moment in her early days. "I truly believe this incident solidified my reputation with the other officers and the community as a capable police officer," she explains.

Morse had a difficult family life growing up and left home at 17. She found herself working as a bank teller in 1974 when her mother told her the RCMP was taking applications from women. She could clearly see her potential at the bank was limited - it was only men chosen for advancement training.

Her father was an officer with the Calgary Police Service. Already interested in policing, she immediately submitted an application.

"The process went so quickly, I felt like I was swept up in the momentum," she reflects while sitting in the den of her Vancouver-area home, decorated with the many mementos of her 21-year career with the RCMP. "I didn't really know what I was getting into to be honest."

What she ended up "getting into" was a fulfilling career and one that would ultimately define her and her family, she says.

While in Port Alberni, she met fellow Mountie Ron Morse during a sudden-death investigation and the two became fast friends. When he proposed she didn't hesitate to say yes and the pair were married in November 1975.

"We joke with our kids that our first date was an autopsy," she laughs. The couple, now married for 39 years, has three children.

Their daughter's plan to join the RCMP was thwarted by an injury but she is now a 911 operator in Surrey, British Columbia, the RCMP's largest detachment.

When the newly engaged couple told their detachment commander their big news, he was simply "stunned." In less than 24 hours, a staffing officer made the trip from Victoria, British Columbia, to figure out how to deal with this new twist.

"They really didn't know what to do with us," Morse says. But from that day on, the couple never again worked together, and at National Headquarters in Ottawa, Ontario, there was a scramble to write policy to deal with relationships between members in the future.

After retiring from the RCMP, Morse ran security operations for the British Columbia Liquor Distribution Branch for 19 years. Despite that, she still feels more connected to the RCMP.

"I had good times, bad times, difficult times, but I had an absolutely wonderful career with the RCMP and would do it all over again," she says.

"The RCMP made me who I am."

She can't help but chuckle as she tells the story of a very frustrated, tough-as-nails instructor who was trying to teach the RCMP's first female troop the highly precise drill routine they would perform during their upcoming graduation.

"He was so frustrated he actually broke his drill cane smacking it on his knee," Karen Adams laughs as she recalls the moment shortly after Christmas in 1975. "These canes are sacred to a drill instructor and I will never forget the look of utter shock on his face when it snapped."

Adams, now retired and living in Edmonton, was 22 when her father woke her up in the family's Winnipeg home on a mid-May morning in 1974 to tell her the RCMP was accepting applications from women to be police officers.

Within less than four months, she and 31 others across the country were being sworn in as the Force's first female police officers. Shortly after, Adams was on her way to the RCMP Academy, Depot Division, in Regina, Saskatchewan to become part of Troop 17, and take her place in RCMP history.

Over the years more and more opportunities for specialization within the RCMP opened up for women, but Adams knew from very early on that she wanted to return to Depot as an instructor.

"I just had this fire to inspire people to be the best they can be," she explains. Of her 28-year career with the RCMP, a dozen years were served teaching fresh-faced cadets. After her retirement from the RCMP, she went on to a second career teaching at Edmonton's MacEwan University in the Law Enforcement program until last year.

Her inspirations for a policing career were a couple courses she took while studying social work and, she grudgingly admits, the policewoman on the popular TV show of the day, Ironside. Eve Whitfield, played by Barbara Anderson, was strong, competent, and yes, beautiful, Adams recalls. She laughs that it was "foolish" but "she awoke my inner spirit. I'd never seen a woman in such a role!"

After a varied career with five physical moves and seven postings during her 28 years as a police officer, Adams is most proud of doing all that while raising two successful, independent, strong daughters who are her best friends. As a single mom from the time her youngest was two months there were many challenges, but the family of three made it work. "We did what we had to do to have the family we wanted," she says, the pride clear in her voice.

She's also very close to her younger sister, Shelley Marsh (nee Somers), who followed in her footsteps and joined in 1977, making the pair the first sisters in the Force. "Ironically, I was in Manitoba and her first posting was Penticton, British Columbia We never served in the same division (province) but shared similar experiences… She, too, had an amazing career."

When asked what it was like being the first sworn woman in a detachment, Adams offers two stories to illustrate. The first is that when she reported for duty in Thompson, Man., fresh out of Depot and she told the counter receptionist why she was there and asked to see the commander. It was a few minutes later that "all these heads started peeking around corners," she laughs. "They wanted to get a visual on the woman who was going to change their world."

The second story was about her first arrest with her training officer. A report was made about an intoxicated man and woman in a bar that happened to be across the street from the detachment. When it became clear the pair needed to be arrested, her training officer took the woman and she took the man. "As we were putting them in the paddy wagon, I looked across the street and everyone was lined up at the windows giving me a round of applause."

There's no question that it wasn't an easy career but it was one well worth doing, Adams says.

"There were some colleagues who found it difficult to accept women as RCMP officers," she says, quickly adding, "but most female members in those early years would not have survived without the mentorship and friendship of the men around them."

Bev Busson was a newly minted Dartmouth, NS teacher on May 23, 1974, driving to her summer job working with special needs kids, when she heard on the radio that the RCMP was going to accept applications from women.

She happened to be driving by the local detachment and picked up an application. "It was like destiny pulling me in another direction," she says.

In less than four months, the then 23-year-old Bev MacDonald was a sworn police officer in Regina for training with 31 other women who together formed Troop 17, the first RCMP female officers.

Little did she know three decades later, after an "adventure and adrenaline" filled career, she would become the first female commissioner of the national police force in late 2006.

With limited career choices for women in the early 1970s, Busson chose teaching because she knew she wanted to make a difference in people's lives. "The RCMP was that but times 10 for me," she explains.

The troop created a bit of a media storm at the RCMP Academy, Depot Division. "We just wanted to be treated like everyone else and then yet another news crew would suddenly descend on us," she laughs. "We got really close, really quickly."

So close that most of the troop has reunited every five years for the last 40. "They are all great women who've all broken barriers and had such varied and interesting careers," Busson says.

Fresh out of Depot, Busson was posted to Salmon Arm, British Columbia, a small town in the southern interior on Shuswap Lake - the same area where she and her husband have now chosen to retire.

There were some challenges at first, including finding someplace to live. The new male members always stayed at Gabe's Bunkhouse which, she laughs, really wasn't appropriate. And she became "a bit of a tourist attraction" for the first few weeks because everyone wanted to see the female Mountie.

The welcome, however, was warm and it was "full-on adventure" from Day 1. "I'm not sure if (the detachment commander) was a believer or not but there was no special treatment," she says recalling that, like all the men, she got her fair share of overnight shifts, alone on duty with the closest back up in the next detachment area, or asleep at home.

It was 13 years before Busson would get her first promotion, to corporal. With a chuckle she describes herself as a "slow starter," but it was during this period that she racked up the investigative experience that became the foundation of the rest of her career. She made her mark in criminal investigations starting with a transfer to a drug unit after only two years of service in general duty policing. From there it was on to major crimes investigating fraud, drug and serious crimes including sexual assaults and homicides.

By 1990, she'd earned a law degree and moved to the administrative side of the RCMP as an internal affairs prosecutor. Missing the excitement of criminal investigations, two years later she was the first woman commissioned as an inspector and went back to the operations side of the house.

"I was so fortunate to have some wonderful bosses who had no issues with gender," she says when asked about her career trajectory. "They just wanted you to work hard and I was happy to do that."

Over the course of her career, there were nine physical transfers between different posts in Saskatchewan, British Columbia and Ottawa, Ontario She ultimately married a fellow Mountie, a widower with two small children whom she adopted. Her daughter is now an RCMP officer in British Columbia.

"I remind my daughter all the time that everyday is an opportunity to make a difference in someone's life and that success should be measured by your contributions and how others feel about your leadership, not your rank," Busson explains.

Did you know?

Bev Busson climbed the ranks of the RCMP, chalking up many 'firsts' throughout her career. Some of these achievements include:

• First woman to be commissioned, becoming an inspector in 1992
• First woman to be named a criminal operations officer, essentially the No. 2 officer in a division (F Division, Saskatchewan) in 1997
• First woman to be promoted to the rank of assistant commissioner and to become a divisional commanding officer (F Division) in 1998
• First woman to be named deputy commissioner of a region (Pacific Region) in 2001
• First woman to lead the RCMP, becoming the 21st commissioner in December 2006

As the E Division (British Columbia) Commanding Officer starting in 2000, she oversaw some of the RCMP's most infamous cases, including the latter stages of the investigation into the 1985 bombing of Air India Flight 182, and that of mass murderer Robert "Willie" Pickton who was charged with 26 counts of first-degree murder and convicted of six counts of second-degree murder.

In 2006 she was planning her retirement when she was approached to take over as Commissioner at a very challenging time in the organization's history. She agreed to take the position on an interim basis while another replacement was found.

"It was such a privilege and an honour," she says with humility. Looking back on her career, her best memories are of the great people she worked with and the "true camaraderie and mutual trust - those are the things that matter at the end of the day."

Asked what she's most proud of, she says it was that the people of the RCMP - police officers and civilians alike - accepted her leadership during a period when the Force was facing a lot of pressure, second-guessing and criticism.

Busson offers up a favourite quote - one attributed to several people, from Theodore Roosevelt to leadership guru John C. Maxwell - as her approach to leadership. "Nobody cares how much you know until they know how much you care."

Simple words from a universally respected leader who, along with all the women of Troop 17, blazed the way for thousands of women in the RCMP.

While science-based TV dramas like "CSI" are commonplace these days, there was a time when the use of science to solve crimes seemed novel. But the reality is that science has been helping to solve crime for over a century.

The RCMP opened its first forensic lab in Regina, Saskatchewan, in 1937 under the direction of Dr. Maurice Powers. Small and ill-equipped by today's standards, that initial lab was used to analyze ballistics, fingerprints, blood, semen, hair, fibre, fingernail clippings, photographs and other documents.

Today, the RCMP's Forensic Science and Identification Services still provides vital support to front-line police investigations across Canada and internationally through:

• forensic science services
• crime scene forensic identification
• fingerprint identification
• criminal record repositories
• National DNA Data Bank

Of the 213 scientists and technicians - all of whom are civilian members - processing case work for the RCMP's Forensic Laboratory Service across Canada, 69% are women.

• Biology Services employs the highest percentage of women at 79%.
• Firearms and Toolmark Identification employs 45%.
• With the exception of Firearms, all laboratory sections employ more than 50% female scientists and technicians.

"The laboratories certainly have come a long way," says Malcolm Gutfriend, Program Manager for Trace Evidence Services for the Forensic Laboratory Services at RCMP Headquarters in Ottawa, Ontario. "In the early 1960s, Ed Perreaux was hired as an orderly by the Regina laboratory. When he retired in the mid 1990s, we discovered that his original job description was still on his personnel file. One of his duties had been to drive the female forensic scientists to court when they had to provide testimony. They weren't allowed to drive themselves."

Dr. Frances McGill, the RCMP's first female medical investigator

While the forensic investigators working in Dr. Powers' original Regina lab were all men, the individual who succeeded Powers was a woman. Dr. Frances McGill, sometimes called the "first woman Mountie," was the Force's first female medical investigator.

Sometimes called the "Sherlock Holmes of Saskatchewan," Dr. McGill was a gender pioneer. After earning her medical degree from the University of Manitoba in 1915, a time when few women studied medicine, she devoted most of her working life to forensic pathology, an emerging science in Canada at the time.

In 1918, Dr. McGill was appointed provincial bacteriologist for the Saskatchewan Department of Health. She was a diligent worker, particularly during the Spanish influenza epidemic. In 1920, she became a provincial pathologist and, two years later, she became director of the provincial laboratory, where she primarily handled cases involving suspicious death. In the course of her duties, she worked closely with various police forces, including the RCMP, and earned a reputation as an outstanding criminologist. She retired as provincial pathologist in 1942.

In 1943, Dr. McGill formally began working for the RCMP, replacing Dr. Powers as the director of the forensic laboratory in Regina following Powers' tragic death in an airplane crash. Working for the RCMP, Dr. McGill trained the country's future police officers and detectives in medical jurisprudence, pathology and toxicology. She taught them how to collect and preserve evidence, study a crime scene and distinguish between animal and human blood.

After formally stepping down from her duties with the RCMP, Dr. McGill was appointed its Honorary Surgeon on January 16, 1946, and in this role continued to serve as a consultant to the Force. She remained active until her death in 1959.

Recognized for her unfailing professionalism, Dr. McGill built a solid reputation as a woman working tirelessly in a profession dominated by men. Her success was undoubtedly a product of her personal motto: "Think like a man, act like a lady and work like a dog."

Superintendent Tracy Ramsay, the RCMP's first female forensic identification specialist

In 1989, after working for eight years in E Division (British Columbia) as a general duty officer and a member of the General Investigation Section, then-Constable Tracy Ramsay found herself applying to Forensic Identification Services at a time when the RCMP was attempting to bring more women into its specialty sections. Since the beginning of her police career, she had witnessed and respected the work done by forensic identification specialists at crime scenes, so when a colleague mentioned her aptitude for detail might be well suited to forensic science, she decided it was time to change gears.

After completing the eight-week training course, she spent the next year working as an identification understudy before passing her certification board. While she admits qualifying to become a forensic identification specialist was an arduous process, she never felt her gender set her apart. Instead, she felt welcomed and respected by the other dedicated forensic identification specialists, professionals willing to share their expertise.

General duty police officers are qualified to provide factual testimony in court, but officers who specialize in fields such as forensic identification must be qualified before the courts to provide expert testimony. Since the courts place such a high degree of importance on expert testimony, before they permit specialists to testify, they first must articulate and defend their qualifications and expertise on the stand. Each time the courts accept expert testimony, an officer's qualifications are reinforced. Understandably, expert witnesses are extremely proud of their qualifications.

"This is exacting work. No one wants to be responsible for providing testimony that establishes bad case law. As a forensic identification specialist, you're always aware that your testimony can determine whether or not someone goes to jail. You need to be 100% sure that you followed sound scientific methodology and that you can defend your conclusions," says Superintendent Ramsay.

After 16 years as a forensic identification specialist, she left the field because she aspired to move into the officer ranks. While she thoroughly enjoys her current post in the Chief Information Office Sector, when asked if she misses Ident, she says, "Absolutely, I would go back in a second."

Did you know?

The first time a woman, a civilian member, was named as chief scientist of Serology in the RCMP Laboratories was in 1968.

Taking the plunge into uncharted territory

In a career she was dreaming about as a young child, Inspector Ruth Roy has compiled an impressive resume since taking the plunge with the Underwater Recovery Team (URT) in 1991. As the first female URT member in British Columbia, it was a challenging course to navigate.

"Having joined the force in 1981 when women were still a bit of a novelty, I quickly learned that police work is more about being able to deal with people than it is about being physically tough," says Roy.

In her first six months on the job, responding alone to a call to remove a large, intoxicated man from a shelter, Roy learned that kindness, generosity, and a sense of humour can go a long way. Cracking a joke to defuse the situation, she explained to him that he had to leave and offered a trip to the cells to sleep it off, which he sheepishly accepted.

Roy's approach speaks to her determination and resolve, which served her well in the years that followed. Marrying a fellow member at a time when the Force wasn't supportive, Roy opted to leave the RCMP and join Ports Canada Police (PCP). Already being an avid diver, the police dive unit was a natural choice. In 1988, Ports Canada sent her for underwater recovery training with the RCMP, whose dive team was still "one of the last bastions of the old boys club," recalls Roy.

"I was watched closely," adds Roy, the first woman to ever participate in the training. "But I was very comfortable in the water and excelled at all the tasks." After 3 weeks of intensive training, this former competitive swimmer succeeded and spent the next 3 years diving with the Ports Canada team and participating in training and practice dives with the RCMP team.

Rejoining the force in 1991, Roy was posted to E Division and started participating in RCMP practice dives again.

By that time, precedence had been set for women to join URT. Corporal Ann Noel was the first in February 1989, when she earned a position on the B Division part-time team in Newfoundland and Labrador.

For Roy, the stars aligned when a permanent position came up on the URT team in 1991. Although supportive during practice dives, initially some in management weren't onboard with her joining the team in a permanent role.

"When it came time to have me on the team, management started putting up barriers," recalls Roy. "First it was the lack of changing facilities, then a woman's 'lack of strength,' and then some of the fellows were uncomfortable with a woman partner."

Noel can relate to the discussion about changing facilities. "The team changed in a cube van so there was a concern about where I was going to change," she says noting that it was easy to fix. The team members just changed into swimsuits before reporting to a dive. "We just knew we had a job to do and we did it."

Despite the barriers Roy faced, her history with the team prevailed. It was a photo from one of her many practice dives of her with a large bag of gear and 2 25-pound weight belts over her shoulders, while being passed an air tank that convinced them that strength was clearly not an issue. Any other concerns were put to rest when one of her dive mates told a story about a practice dive in the Skookumchuck Narrows, a strip of rapids in Pender Harbour, British Columbia

"My partner and I were holding hands with arms outstretched, gliding quickly about 10 feet from the ocean floor, with a collage of reds, oranges, purples and greens passing beneath us… It was magical, and probably the closest thing to flying that I will ever do," Roy vividly remembers.

"We finally came to a stop and checked our gauges. We were at 80 feet and my partner was running low on air, so we started heading to the surface. We pushed off and swam in a big circle, then suddenly it was getting darker rather than lighter and we were descending again. We realized we were in a whirlpool, and his suit didn't have sufficient air in it to counteract the downward pull. At the same time, he signaled that he was out of air. I took my octopus (spare mouthpiece) and stuffed it in his mouth, filled my buoyancy compensator to the max and basically pulled him to the surface."

Roy's skill level and competence were never questioned again, and she proudly served on URT for 8 years. Continuing on to many formidable roles following URT, including her current post on the Prime Minister's Protection Detail, Roy was also one of the first female aide-de-camps (confidential assistant) in 2000 to then-Lieutenant Governor of Nova Scotia, Myra Ava Freeman, who specifically requested Roy. Normally a position for a commissioned officer, Roy's appointment while a corporal paved the way for several other female non-commissioned officers to later take on the esteemed role.

With so many accomplishments under her belt, including setting up a training program for gender-based violence in Haiti and spearheading an international research project on police leadership and what men and women view as barriers to promotion, a true career highlight was receiving the 2013 Woman Law Enforcement Executive of the Year Award.

"It's funny how you just do what you think is right, and when you look back you can reflect and see the impact you left, that is rewarding," comments Roy. When asked what words of wisdom she would impart to current or future women of the RCMP - "Be yourself and as you climb the corporate ladder, reach back and pull at least two other women with you!"

As the first Canadian to take the helm at the International Association of Law Enforcement Intelligence Analysts (IALEIA) four years ago, civilian member Jennifer Johnstone is helping shape the field of intelligence analysis around the globe.

Joining the force in 2001, the RCMP was a natural choice for this intelligence expert, having grown up with her father, a few siblings and other family members working in law enforcement and public safety. "I was working with the CBSA [since 1993] as a customs inspector and intelligence analyst and was assigned to a tobacco joint forces operation out of the RCMP [British Columbia] HQ building," explains Johnstone of her transition to the force. "The idea of working on a variety of files at all levels of policing was appealing, so when the RCMP approached me, I accepted."

Whether as a criminal analyst, strategic analyst, or intelligence analyst, Johnstone has spent over 20 years honing her analytical skills. She's currently an intelligence analyst with RCMP's Federal Serious and Organized Crime Branch in British Columbia, and recently began her second (voluntary) term as president of IALEIA. An organization dedicated to advancing high standards of professionalism in law enforcement intelligence analysis, IALEIA is the largest organization in the world representing law enforcement analysts.

"One award of which I am very proud is from the Colombian National Police and the Latin American and Caribbean Community of Police Intelligence," comments Johnstone. "They recognized my efforts in promoting the profession of intelligence analysis in Central and South America." She adds that IALIEA is making great inroads there, where an organization like IALIEA is much needed to assist with professionalism and establishing standards.

As president of IALEIA she is considered a subject matter expert by the Criminal Intelligence Coordinating Council (CICC) (made up of United States intelligence leaders from federal, state, and municipal departments, including the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Drug Enforcement Administration, Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives and Department of Homeland Security), and is the only non-United States member and the only female who sits on the Council. With a goal of increasing intelligence sharing and developing international best practices, the CICC is dedicated to intelligence-led policing.

While Johnstone continues to connect the global intelligence environment, she still recalls how she used to create link charts by hand on flip-chart paper. "The advances in charting and mapping software, as well as programs to assist with the sorting and collation of meta data, is amazing," she says. There's also been an increase in formal education programs for analysts, with many bachelor and master degree programs now offered at different institutions.

Never missing an opportunity to further her own education, Johnstone is currently on educational leave from the RCMP to complete her Master in Science in Intelligence Studies. While on leave, she was also hired as an international expert in criminal analysis for the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE). As a certified instructor and having helped develop IALIEA's Foundations for Intelligence Analysis course, Johnstone has taught it in several United States cities and in Bulgaria, and she just recently returned from teaching analysts in the Ukraine through OSCE.

Johnstone is looking forward to returning to the RCMP next year once she completes her Master in Science, noting that she's been very fortunate to have worked with "some amazing people and for some incredible leaders."

"I realize that as I travel around the world, the RCMP is a good place to work," Johnston says. "I look forward to a future of more women in leadership roles within the RCMP."

Prior to 1980, when you thought of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, you couldn't help but envision a Mountie in Red Serge, in full control of his black Thoroughbred, part of the iconic Musical Ride.

While growing up, Christine (Mackie) Windover always rode and loved horses, but that was before women were even allowed in the RCMP. She never imagined she would have the opportunity to ride one as a member of the Force.

For as long as Windover can remember, all of her spare time and money was spent in stables and on horses. Riding since she was six years old, it was a true passion, but she never dreamed she'd be able to parlay it into a successful career.

"I was a secretary at CBC in Yellowknife when I learned that the RCMP was accepting women as cadets," recalls Windover. "I applied and was in the second troop of women in 1975 - the first thing I did when I got to Depot was find a horse to lease."

This horse enthusiast got a lucky break when she learned that one of her troop mates was engaged to a member on the Ride - which happened to be performing in Regina that summer. "It was not easy, but I was fortunate enough to get an opportunity to ride with them during an exercise."

She applied for the Ride in 1978 after she had two years of service under her belt (mandatory requirement), but she received a letter from (then) Commissioner Robert Simmonds, stating that women were not allowed on the Ride because it was "much more physical work than women would be able to do," and because women didn't have the same uniform back then. She would have to wait another two years before the decision was made to allow women on the Ride.

She thought Depot was tough as women were still a new concept and not welcomed by all, but training for the Musical Ride was easily "the most difficult two months of my life."

"One of the most difficult aspects was that back then, neither the men or women were allowed to mount their horses with stirrups - if we couldn't pull ourselves up in the saddle we could not ride," says Windover. "It was hell. Fortunately I had a great partner. He had never ridden horses before, so I gave him some pointers and he gave me a boost… or two."

"I don't believe I was treated any differently than the men," comments this trail blazer. "And it was very, very mentally and physically challenging." Made more so by the lack of appropriate attire. "Breeches and boots hadn't been issued to women before. It took three weeks to get the proper clothes made!"

She and Joan Merk were the first two women on the Musical Ride, and leaned heavily on one another. "Everyone was watching, waiting for us to fail, and some of the members didn't speak to us for the whole first year… it was no bowl of cherries," Windover somberly recalls. "But there were lots of good times… I made awesome friends and have wonderful memories."

One of those memories is from 1987, the 100th anniversary of the Musical Ride. There was a big show and reunion at Depot, the RCMP Training Academy in Regina, and there were many retired members surprised to see women on the Ride, let alone leading it. "I just had to keep smiling, but there were lots of old school folks shocked to see me out front," says Windover. "But my mom was there to watch me perform for the first time, which was a true highlight."

Windover went on to become an instructor on the Ride, being promoted to Corporal in 1986 - another first for the Force and not widely accepted. "Training horses was easy, but training people… not so easy. Some had issues with a female as a supervisor." It was almost 30 years ago, and a different era. "I hope I paved the way a little bit, but I was kind of naive back then, and really didn't know we shouldn't be treated certain ways. But, there were some wonderful instructors, just not many women around, so you really had to rely on yourself."

Women have come a long way though, and 15 years ago when the Force was celebrating 25 years of women in the RCMP, this experienced rider drove the carriage as a full escort team of female riders followed. "That was a very special moment for me, driving the carriage at the Sunset Ceremonies, celebrating all the accomplishments of women in the Force."

Fast forward 15 years into her retirement, and she's still living and breathing horses as the co-owner/stable manager of an equestrian centre in Eastern Ontario. Her passion for horses hasn't faded, nor has her respect for the Force. Her message to new recruits: "Lead, don't follow. It will be a more difficult path, but you will be much better off in the long run."

No one's sure who was more filled with trepidation when the first female RCMP recruits walked onto the grounds of the RCMP Academy, Depot Division - the women, or the men who had to train them.

"We were ready for them, sort of," laughs Al Nicholson, one of the Depot instructors when the women - collectively known as Troop 17 1974/75 - were sworn in September 16, 1974 and started training a week later.

Reflecting back to the first time he stood in front of the 32 women in a classroom, the former Mountie with about a year experience teaching recruits by that point says, "It was the first time I was nervous at Depot. I didn't want to say anything the wrong way."

Depot Division, officially opened in 1885, is a sprawling facility located in Regina, Saskatchewan that clearly reflects the RCMP's paramilitary tradition. The newest cadets march in troop formation double-time from class to class, everyone is acknowledged with a "sir" or "ma'am," and at noon most days you can hear the drill sergeant's commands from Parade Square.

Walking onto "base" on that first day can be overwhelming for anyone. "The uniform, the marching, the drill, the 'Yes Sir, No Sir', it's a lot for anyone to adjust to regardless of gender," says Nicholson, now head of the RCMP Heritage Centre in Regina.

Donna Morse (nee Burns), then a 21-year-old from Calgary, Alberta, describes the feeling she first had as a "scary awe."

"I really didn't know what I was getting myself into," she freely admits recently from her home near Vancouver, British Columbia where she is now retired after 21 years with the RCMP and another 19 years with the British Columbia government.

Historically, each 32-member troop of men lived together in a dorm much like an army barracks - along each wall, rows of beds made with precise corners and sheets tight enough to bounce a coin off of. When the women arrived, they were placed in two-person rooms based on the belief they needed more privacy. And there was a rush at the last minute to replace the dorm's urinals with toilets.

Then there was the uniform. "They were still putting the uniforms together when we first arrived," says Troop 17 member Bev Busson (nee MacDonald), who would rise through the ranks during her 33-year career to become the RCMP's first female commissioner.

"They didn't give us duty belts, there weren't even belt loops on the pants," she recalls. Instead, there was the now infamous purse that featured compartments for a firearm, ammunition and a set of handcuffs. Fortunately, practicality prevailed and the women were issued duty belts before their training was done.

The black pumps, pillbox caps and clingy blouses lasted much longer. "The uniform was awful," says Nicholson. "It was like they pulled it straight out of the 1940s."

But it wasn't until the early 1990s that the "female" uniform was dropped and all Mounties were issued the same kit and clothing. It took 18 years, but in 1992 women would finally don the iconic red serge, Stetson, high Browns and breeches for which the RCMP is internationally known.

Little was changed in the training for the women. Aside from cleaning up some of the language that is, Nicholson admits. In today's cadet training there are no differences, but at the start there was some "modification in the program designed to cater to our physical abilities," wrote Constable Barb Woods (now Alexander) in The RCMP Quarterly in April 1975, just a month after she and 29 others from the original troop graduated.

Did you know?

When the women of Troop 17 first started drill training, the drill instructors were concerned that "wiggling" hips would interfere with the precise military steps. Turns out, the women were able to be just as precise as the men.

When the women of Troop 17 first started drill training, the drill instructors were concerned that "wiggling" hips would interfere with the precise military steps. Turns out, the women were able to be just as precise as the men.

The women did, however, have an extra challenge when it came to learning the precise movements and patterns for drill, according to Armstrong: "The Drill Staff took pains to teach us to march without a wiggle!"

In the classroom, however, there was no difference. For Karen Adams (nee Somers), there was one instructor who stood out because he was so intimidating on Day 1 and her favourite by graduation on March 3, 1975. "He taught us that policing was something to take very seriously and that if you couldn't take it seriously at Depot, you had no place in the field," she explains.

"They all gave us a good dose of reality but I didn't think they treated us any differently than the men," she says from Edmonton where she is now retired after 28 years with the RCMP and another 11 teaching in the law enforcement program at MacEwan University.

There was one element, however, that was unique for Troop 17, something never experienced by any troop before or after - the news media.

"You just wanted to be treated like everyone else and a news crew would descend on you in the middle of a defensive tactics class," laughs Busson. "Sure it was an intrusion but we tried to stay focused and get through the challenges of the day."

She and her troop mates definitely felt the pressure to prove they deserved to be there and as a result, the group got "really close, really fast." So close in fact that there have been Troop 17 reunions every 5 years since they first took their oaths.

The instructors and staff of the day also felt the pressure to make it work. "We were trying to catch up with the world," says Nicholson, noting that many other Canadian police services accepted female applicants decades earlier.

When looking back, Nicholson is proud to have been part of this important part of the RCMP's history. And you can hear the pride in his voice when he says he watched the "girls" progress through their careers.

"They worked really hard and they worked well as a team," he says. "They were just a really good troop."

Crawling undetected through the woods on bush patrol. Rappelling down the side of a building with a weapon. Scaling the side of a ship in full dive gear. Dismantling an explosive device while the timer counts down. Leading an international agency of analysts into the future. Decades ago you wouldn't have pictured a woman in these roles, but now it's a different day.

As we celebrate the accomplishments of women on the Force over the last four decades, we're getting closer to the day when female firsts and glass ceilings are things of the past. It's thanks to the efforts of past and present trailblazers who've helped pave the way to the future.

For retired civilian member Tonita Murray, the first female director general (DG) of the Canadian Police College (CPC), who is spending her retirement working on gender equality and police reform in Afghanistan and now in Kenya, she admits her six years as DG were the most challenging of her career. "All the organizational changes that occurred during my time there were not achieved without hot debate, but I understood that managing change meant destabilizing the status quo."

Destabilizing the status quo was a theme for most of the women who pioneered the entry into some of the RCMP's male-dominated fields - or as Inspector Ruth Roy, the first female member in British Columbia of an Underwater Recovery Team (URT) calls them, "the last bastions of the old boys club." Inspector Roy, who had been part of the Ports Canada Police dive team and participated in countless practice dives and training with the RCMP dive team, still faced pushback from some in management when she applied for a permanent spot on URT back in 1991.

"When it came time to have me on the team, management started putting up barriers," recalls Inspector Roy. But this avid diver's history with the team prevailed and she finally secured a spot on the team. It's a similar story with emergency response teams (ERT), explosive device units (EDU), and various other specialized roles that simply don't attract many females.

But Sergeant Regan Douglas, the first (and only) female bomb tech in the RCMP, is trying to change that, and recently became a full-time (first female) instructor at the CPC in the Explosives Training Unit. "Hopefully, with a female instructor, these new young bomb tech recruits will be so used to working with a woman, they'll just expect us to be out in the field as well." Sergeant Douglas tries to encourage other women to explore the field and currently has one woman in her class. But she admits that it's competitive and like some of the other specialized units has limited positions, so you really have to be committed.

"It takes a lot of courage to just show up," says Sergeant Douglas, who can often be heard saying she can't believe she gets paid to blow things up. "For months I spent my leave days and all my free time hanging out with the CBRNE [Chemical Biological Radiological Nuclear Explosive] guys, learning the ropes, proving myself." It paid off; Sergeant Douglas passed the course and secured a permanent spot on the team in 2009, and joined a "fantastic group of guys" with whom she felt no resistance whatsoever.

Sergeant Val Brooks is also trying to change the face of policing, and as the first operational woman on ERT from 2004 to 2008, she's given a few presentations to new recruits about her experiences on ERT. She talks a lot about the need for trust and respect on a team, which is crucial regardless of gender. "On ERT it's always about the team… the sense of camaraderie and the bonds that form are incredible, and with that comes responsibility," she explains of the highly physically demanding, high pressure, high risk environment. "It was, to date, my biggest accomplishment from a personal and professional perspective."

As the first woman posted to a full-time ERT, Inspector Rhonda Blackmore believes the main point is having applicable benchmarks for training and certification standards. "If the required standards are valid, then it is irrelevant if you are male or female, it is all about selecting the best candidate for that job." Often called on to share her experiences and dispense advice, she tells female officers that while ERT is physically, mentally, and technically challenging, the skills and lessons learned are transferable to any role and will serve anyone well.

Many women in the Force feel it is their obligation to reach out to inspire and encourage the next generation. And like civilian member Jennifer Johnstone, an intelligence analyst with Federal Serious and Organized Crime in British Columbia, one should aspire not only to be the first woman, but to be the first Canadian to achieve international success in their field. Johnstone was appointed (for her second term) as the president of the International Association of Law Enforcement Intelligence Analysts (IALEIA), the first time a Canadian has taken the helm. With more than 20 years experience and having assisted in the development of the Foundations of Intelligence Analysis Training used around the world, Johnstone is considered a subject matter expert in the topic of intelligence analysis with regards to training and professionalism on an international level. Having had the full support of the RCMP for her endeavours with IALEIA, Johnstone says she's been very fortunate to have worked for some incredible leaders. "I realize that as I travel around the world, the RCMP is a good place to work."

The list of acknowledged female firsts in the RCMP is a long one, but greater still is the number of unsung women who have quietly overcome attitudinal and generational barriers to take their place alongside male colleagues. One can only imagine the challenges faced by the first female to serve as a constable in a detachment, the first to work on a drug unit, to handle a police service dog or investigate commercial crime. While many women in all categories have faced obstacles, many have also experienced great rewards.

A true trailblazer who really shattered the glass ceiling is retired Commissioner Bev Busson, the Force's first and only female Commissioner. When asked what she's most proud of, Busson states, "that members accepted my leadership at a time of a lot of pressure and stress on the organization. It was never about being female."

Of the 249 fallen members presently on the RCMP Honour Roll, eight are women who have made the ultimate sacrifice while serving and protecting.

Four of the women died in vehicle collisions, one in a plane crash, one murdered by a fleeing suspect in a domestic dispute, one shot by a mass shooter and one stabbed by an attacker. Every police officer knows the dangers they face every time they report for duty, that there's a chance they won't be back when they say goodbye to their loved ones despite that they still serve and protect with integrity, dedication and compassion

These are the stories of eight women - mothers, spouses, daughters, sisters, valued friends and colleagues - who didn't come home.

Constable Della Beyak

Died: March 15, 1989

There was a raging snowstorm on March 15, 1989, near Assiniboia, Saskatchewan, when Constable Della Beyak was responding to a call for assistance at a collision. The slow-moving transport truck in front of her was blowing up blinding snow so she edged out to see if she could pass when she tragically collided with the coroner who had just left the scene of the crash. An ambulance that was also leaving the scene then hit the two vehicles from behind.

With just nine months service, the 21-year-old avid figure skater and Ukrainian dancer was killed, making her the first female RCMP officer to die in the line of duty. She had always wanted to be a police officer and studied criminology at the University of Manitoba.

The coroner was also killed and the ambulance driver suffered serious injuries. Beyak was buried in Winnipegosis, Manitoba.

Special Constable Nancy Puttkemery

Died: December 9, 1989

Special Constable Nancy Puttkemery died doing what she loved - flying. The Force's first female pilot, the 34-year-old was living her dream flying around the region and into Canada's north for K Division Air Services.

On December 9, 1989, she and Special Constable Vincent Timms were returning to Edmonton, Alberta, in a Cessna 182 after assisting on an operational file in Calgary when heavy snow and low visibility forced them to turn back. While making a turn at low altitude, one of the wings hit a guy wire and the plane fell from the sky, killing both souls on board.

Puttkemery was among the early female pioneers who became police officers with the RCMP when she started training in December 1975. She served in several detachments on general duty until 1986 when she gave up her constable status to become a special constable so she could fly with the RCMP (at the time, pilot positions were limited to the civilian, special constable status). During her posting with Air Services, Puttkemery earned certification on the Cessna 182, the Beaver and the Single and Twin Otters.

Constable Christine Diotte

Died: March 12, 2002

Constable Christine Diotte was setting up caution warnings at the scene of a rollover west of Banff, Alberta, during a worsening snowstorm on March 12, 2002, when a vehicle ran out of control on the icy highway hitting her and Constable David Davis

Two doctors, who happened to be driving by, helped to stabilize the pair and both were taken to the hospital in Banff where Diotte died. Her husband, a fellow Mountie, was by her side. Davis suffered serious internal injuries but survived.

Diotte, 35, always dreamed of joining the RCMP and graduated from training in 1996. First posted to Hinton, Alberta, she quickly became part of the community, volunteering with the local Victim Services Unit and leading DARE classes.

At the time of her death, she was posted to Banff Detachment and was Davis' training officer. Just six days after the collision, Davis was taken by ambulance from Calgary to Banff to attend Diotte's funeral. He put on his Red Serge and, although still in extreme pain, stood from his wheelchair and gave his training officer one final salute as she passed by.

Constable Robin Cameron

Died: July 15, 2006

Thousands attended the nationally televised funeral of Constable Robin Cameron who, along with Constable Marc Bourdages, was shot following a high-speed chase by a suspect in a domestic dispute near Spiritwood, Saskatchewan, on July 7, 2006.

The two constables died within a day of each other of their wounds in hospital as the tragedy gripped the nation. Cameron, 29, died July 15, 2006, and there was a sea of Red Serge, along with officers from many other emergency services, at her funeral on the Beardy's and Okemasis First Nation where she grew up. The local high school now bears her name in memory.

The RCMP had always been part of Cameron's life. Her father and an uncle were both Mounties and she knew at an early age that policing was her future. She faced many challenges along the way but overcame each of them to achieve her dream. Joining the RCMP in July 2001, she was first posted to Beauval, Saskatchewan, and transferred to the Spiritwood Detachment in 2003.

At her funeral, Cameron was described as an inspiration who lived each day to the fullest and had a smile that touched hearts. She was a role model for youth who loved putting on the uniform. Her 11-year-old daughter Shayne, wrote in a letter to her mother read during the service, "… don't worry, Mom. I'll be okay. I know you'll be there for me. You'll see me graduate, have my own kids. And my daughter will be named Robin and know that her grandma was a hero."

The perpetrator was convicted of two counts of first-degree murder and the attempted murder of another officer who was also shot but survived her injuries and was a key witness at the 2009 trial. He was sentenced to three life sentences with no chance of parole for 25 years, the maximum allowable on all counts.

Constable Chelsey Robinson

Died: June 21, 2010

Constable Chelsey Robinson was searching for an impaired driver shortly before 1 am on June 21, 2010, when she was in a collision with a transport truck near Stony Plain, Alberta. She was critically injured and died shortly after, becoming the fifth female RCMP officer to die in the line of duty.

While only a police officer for seven months, Robinson, 25, had been part of the RCMP for several years at the time of her tragic death. Before going to Depot Division for cadet training, she worked for nearly two years in the Forensic Identification Section in Edmonton, Alberta, after studying forensic biology at the University of Toronto.

Among other qualities, she's remembered as an outstanding student and a superior cadet who was always willing to help her troopmates and made a significant contribution to her detachment.

Constable Sarah Anne Beckett

Died: April 5, 2016

In the early morning hours of April 5, 2016, Constable Sarah Anne Beckett was on duty driving a marked police vehicle. She was patrolling within her detachment area. Another on duty member attempted to stop a vehicle and when that member activated the emergency equipment, the driver of the suspect vehicle failed to stop and ran a red light at a controlled intersection. As the driver did so, Beckett's police car entered the intersection with the right of way. The suspect vehicle struck Beckett's vehicle, killing her instantly. The suspect driver after being found guilty of impaired and dangerous driving causing death was incarcerated for four years and prohibited from driving for five years following release.

Beckett entered training with the RCMP at Depot Division on September 7, 2004. She graduated, and was sworn in as a regular member on February 28, 2005. Upon graduating, she was posted to Port McNeill Detachment. She also served with Westshore Detachment and the Vancouver Island Integrated Major Crime Unit. At the time of her death, Beckett was serving with the Westshore Detachment and had completed a little more than 11 years of service as a regular member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

Constable Heidi Jill Stevenson

Died: April 19, 2020

On Sunday morning April 19, 2020, Constable Heidi Stevenson was killed in the line of duty while attempting to stop a gunman in Nova Scotia. She bravely and heroically engaged the gunman in a firefight before she was killed.

Stevenson graduated from Acadia University with a Bachelor of Science in 1993. It was also during her time at Acadia that she started a part time job with Campus Safety and Security and her passion for policing was born. Stevenson loved her chosen career. There was no doubt in her mind when she graduated from Acadia that her next step was going to be the RCMP. Stevenson entered training with the RCMP at Depot Division on August 14, 1995. She graduated, and was sworn in as a regular member on February 26, 1996. Upon graduation, she was posted to Halifax County Detachment, Nova Scotia. On May 1, 2003, she was transferred to the Musical Ride, Ottawa, Ontario. On July 28, 2007, she returned to Halifax County Detachment, Nova Scotia, and on August 1, 2017, she was transferred to Enfield Detachment, Nova Scotia, and was serving there at the time of her death. Stevenson had completed 24 years, 2 months of service as a regular member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

Constable Shaelyn Yang

Died: October 18, 2022

On October 18, 2022, while serving and protecting the city of Burnaby, British Columbia, Constable Shaelyn Yang was killed in the line of duty. She was stabbed while conducting a wellness check of a transient individual in a homeless camp.

Yang entered training with the RCMP at Depot Division on June 6, 2019. She graduated, and was sworn in as a regular member on December 2, 2019. Upon graduating, she was posted to Burnaby, British Columbia. Yang was a dedicated police officer and a valued member of the Burnaby RCMP's Police Mental Health Outreach Team. Yang served her community with bravery and compassion, and found value in helping others, especially those experiencing homelessness, addiction, and mental health issues. At the time of her death, Yang had completed 2 years, 10 months of service as a regular member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

As our thoughts turn to family during the holiday season, the men and women, civilian and police alike, of the RCMP will celebrate with their "Mountie family." But for some, the RCMP and family have a much deeper connection.

There've been Mountie men with Mountie sons, brothers, nephews and grandsons for generations. But with the introduction of female police officers in 1974, new family connections were quickly forged. Mountie spouses came first and now Mountie women with Mounties daughters, sisters and nieces are part of the RCMP family tree.

It didn't take long to get management scrambling to deal with the first marriage between RCMP officers. Donna Morse (nee Burns) was in the first female troop, Troop 17, and worked with Ron Morse at her first posting in Port Alberni, British Columbia. "I wasn't looking for a husband," she laughs. "I was looking for a career."

The couple met, courted and married before Donna Morse finished her first year of service. They now have three adult children, one of whom is following in the family tradition and is a 911 operator/dispatcher in Surrey, British Columbia "We joke with our kids that our first date was an autopsy," she chuckles.

Their supervisors weren't laughing at the time though. In less than 24 hours of telling their detachment commander about their engagement, a staffing officer made the trip from Victoria, British Columbia, tasked with figuring out what to do.

This first wedded couple, who are both now retired, was soon transferred to the Vancouver area so they could be posted at different detachments.

Donna and Ron's daughter Sandra Morse, 30, didn't grow up wanting to be a police officer. It was only after her mom urged her to go to an RCMP career presentation that she decided it was what she wanted to do. Unfortunately, a back injury when she was in the very last step of the application process and a later car accident have put that dream on hold for now. Instead, she became a civilian member and has been a 911 dispatcher for five years.

"It's the closest thing to being on the street you can get without being an officer," she says after finishing a 12-hour shift in Surrey, British Columbia "We get to see all the action and experience it through the members."

And growing up, Sandra was actually able to watch her mom on the job on To Serve and Protect, a weekly television series started in the 1990s and documented RCMP officers in the Lower Mainland area around Vancouver as they went about the work of policing.

"It was kind of scary to watch her sometimes but it was also really cool," Sandra says, recalling one episode where her mom was arresting a suspect and was pushed to the ground. "She ran him down and got him. I was always really proud of her but this made me realize just how strong she is as a person - there was just no way that guy was going to get away."

Another Mountie family is four members strong with a fifth in the application process. There's Bette Anne Ibbotson, who became a constable in 1982 and served a dozen years, her husband Inspector John Ibbotson, their daughter Constable Alexa Ibbotson and son-in-law Constable Jeff Hodgins. And, Bette Anne and John's other daughter's boyfriend is in the process of becoming a Mountie.

"We do seem to collect them," laughed Alexa from Burnaby Detachment where she has been posted since finishing training at the RCMP Academy, Depot Division, in 2009.

Bette Anne and John Ibbotson were a "Depot romance," meeting while training in Regina in 1982. At first, they were posted to different provinces, her in British Columbia and him in Alberta. But once they got married in 1983, John Ibbotson was moved to British Columbia where they were posted in neighboring detachments, Bette Anne Ibbotson explains.

Bette Anne left the RCMP in 1994 because, with both her and her husband doing shift work while raising two young children, life was chaotic. "He would fly in the door at the end of his shift and I would fly out," she says. "It was pretty hard to juggle things."

So she left to work as an investigator with British Columbia's public insurance corporation in its anti-fraud section which was a regular day position.

But the RCMP was, and is, still a huge part of her life. "There're the members in my immediate family, but also our true friends are those we worked with, and they are family too," she explains. In fact, Donna and Ron Morse are good friends and were among the extended Mountie family who attended Alexa and Jeff's wedding.

"It's our RCMP friends who've seen us through all the good and all the bad."

Bette Anne and John's oldest daughter, Alexa, ended up following in her parents' footsteps, a big surprise to all of them. Alexa wanted to be a news anchor, and started taking broadcast journalism in college. But, as happens when you're part of a Mountie family, her dad was transferred half way across the country from the Vancouver area to Toronto.

Alexa, then not even in her 20s, went with her parents and enrolled at York University where she started taking, and enjoying, criminology classes. "I realized that my parents were on to something," she laughs.

So with the holiday season upon us, it's time to celebrate the people who mean the most, and for many in the RCMP, both sworn and civilian, the term "friends and colleagues" has a special meaning - it's all about family.

Often overlooked yet a vital component of operational successes are the dedicated civilian employees of the RCMP.

While the responsibilities have changed over the years, the role of women behind the scenes has been a crucial one since the very beginning, starting over a century ago when the first jail matrons were hired to tend to female prisoners in the 1890s.

One of the most legendary women to infiltrate the ranks of the North-West Mounted Police (NWMP) was Katherine Ryan, or Klondike Kate as she came to be known. She reportedly first worked with the Mounties on her trek north, when she offered to cook for them if they helped carry her year's worth of supplies. The arrangement proved valuable, and upon settling in the Yukon, Klondike Kate was appointed as a special constable in 1900 by the NWMP to assist with female prisoners and to search potential female gold smugglers.

Women continued to play an integral role behind the scenes from the early 1900s on, when members in (primarily) isolated communities in one- and two-man posts relied heavily on their wives for support. While never formally recognized back then, women performed a range of duties to support police operations, from answering phones and taking complaints to searching female offenders and providing meals to prisoners. Many wives opened their homes to visiting judges, doctors, nurses and RCMP senior officers, providing lodging and meals, all while caring for their own families.

In 2013, 468 of those women from across the country were honoured by the RCMP (some posthumously) for this selfless support provided to their spouses, to the Force, and to their country. Inspired by the book, When the Second Man was a Woman written by Ruth Lee-Knight, Ivy-Anne Mitchell suggested the award to then Commissioner William Elliott in 2010. After countless hours and a lot of leg work by the RCMP Veterans' Association, the Second Man Award was established to recognize these women and their contributions, commitment and dedication. Both Lee-Knight and Mitchell were recipients.

Municipal employees, civilian members and public servants alike continue to work tirelessly to support police operations in a variety of roles. The longest serving public servant recently celebrated 55 years of service, which was a new milestone in the Force.

With over 10,000 civilian employees working throughout the Force, there are too many roles to highlight, but two that are seldom showcased are detachment clerks and Operational Communications Centre (OCC) operators. Detachment clerks are the "heart of every detachment" and OCC operators are the people on the other end of those emergency calls - calls that range from alarms being triggered and domestic disputes to suicidal callers and bomb threats.

"Most of us get into these jobs because we're people helping people kind of people," says Heather Lewis, OCC Manager in D Division. "That's why I've spent my whole career here."

Beginning her career with the RCMP as a detachment clerk in a southern Manitoba detachment, it was a much different world back in 1977. Lewis used to answer calls from the community and dispatch local members. "We used paper index cards to maintain records of individuals charged with offences," recalls Lewis. It was all done by pen and paper with no electronic recording of information.

Detachment clerks are recognized as the "consistency" of the RCMP in each community. Unlike regular members who often have to transfer every few years, detachment clerks are usually from these communities. So when a position opened up in 1980 in the OCC in Thompson, Manitoba, it was a difficult decision for Lewis to convert from a municipal employee to a civilian member and move to northern Manitoba, but she couldn't pass up the opportunity.

"There have been a lot of changes since then," comments Lewis, although member's safety has always been a top priority. "We used to have actual egg timers on our desk to time officers after we dispatched them to a call." They'd check on the officers after five minutes to ensure all was well. Of course everything is electronic and automated now, but they still monitor members when they respond to calls and check on all patrol units hourly. Whether operational members are out in the field or doing paperwork at their desk, OCC staff are true partners, in constant contact, working together on calls.

"Most of our new practices speak to officer safety," says Lewis while explaining the role of the OCC and the types of questions they ask callers. "We give responding officers as much information as possible about where, what, when, who and weapons, and we ensure all database queries are conducted prior to members attending calls. Officer and public safety are our priorities."

Training in the OCC has changed dramatically over the years, as it used to be on-the-job learning with no formal training. When Lewis became a manager six years ago, she, along with the OCC Training Co-ordinator, worked to develop consistency in training for call-taking and dispatching.

"Our OCC worked with others in the North West Region to adopt a formalized training program in 2009," explains Lewis, "and then on a national level to create the National Telecommunications Operator Training Program that became a mandated course in 2014."

"It's not an easy job, we take difficult calls and we must remain composed and get the job done," says the OCC veteran who misses wearing that headset and working with her operational partners. "There are days I just want to get out on the floor and take calls, but I do love my current job and being able to talk about the amazing work these wonderful people do."

Lewis sums it up by saying, "It doesn't matter what you do or what role you play, if you work for the RCMP, you'll have an amazing career."

Fundamental shifts in thinking, culture, leadership styles and problem solving - all are critical to becoming an "inclusive organization."

And, building on successes and lessons learned in promoting a more diverse and respectful workplace, this is the path the RCMP is on.

Over the last several months, we have marked the 40th anniversary of the first female troop and celebrated the contributions of all women - sworn and civilian - over more than a century of service to Canadians as part of the national police service.

Looking to the future, the RCMP wants to move beyond compliance with statutory diversity obligations to inclusion, which is about creating a work environment where employees feel valued and respected, and are able to contribute to their full potential, regardless of gender, ethnicity, disability, sexual orientation, age, or any other personal attribute.

"We need to look after our own people by engaging them in a dynamic, collaborative workplace built on respect, and creating this inclusive environment requires leadership across all levels," Commissioner Bob Paulson says.

"When we get to the place where every employee feels that they belong, they are respected, their contributions are valued, and that their individuality is seen as a positive addition to our organization, we will know we have succeeded in achieving this goal."

In this special 40th anniversary web section, the stories of many women have been told - those of some of the pioneers of Troop 17 who became the first female RCMP officers on September 16, 1974, those who led in the labs and others who were the first in their specialized fields and those who have died in the line of duty.

It has been a look back at how things were for women in the RCMP. Now, as the anniversary of the March 3, 1975, graduation of that first troop nears, it is time to look forward.

"The operational benefits of a wide variety of perspectives are evident in the creativity and innovation necessary to be a leading-edge police service, both in working with the communities we serve, as well as in supporting an inclusive, respectful workplace," says Janet Henstock, Manager of Diversity and Employment Equity.

And solid steps are being taken in the right direction. There are five internal national advisory committees that serve as a forum to identify issues and provide advice and recommendations to senior management about a range of topics including awareness training, changes to policies, or other ways to improve inclusiveness in the workplace. They, along with Henstock's team and the divisional diversity committees, play an important part in ensuring the RCMP is inclusive and respectful of different backgrounds, religions, gender, ethnicities and sexual orientations.

The committees are for women, visible minorities, persons with disabilities, First Nations people and the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgendered/two-spirited (LGBT) communities.

The LGBT committee, the newest, was created in 2014 and is headed by Deputy Commissioner Marianne Ryan, the RCMP's first openly gay woman to hold the second-highest rank. Jean Turner, a member of the committee and a civilian communication specialist from O Division (Ontario), says this is a major step towards inclusion for the RCMP.

"5% to 6% of the Canadian population identifies as LGBT which means probably about the same percentage of RCMP employees do too," Turner says. "We don't want to alienate 6% of our membership."

One of the first objectives for the committee is to get RCMP officers in Red Serge in Pride parades across the country. This past year, Mounties participated in and recruited at parades in Toronto, Ottawa, Vancouver, Halifax and other major cities.

"Being in Pride parades sends a clear message to those we serve but also to our members that we are inclusive and accepting of the LGBT community," she says.

Turner had been married to a man for 10 years and had two children when in 2009, she realized and accepted that she was gay. She slowly came out to friends and some coworkers, but it was far from easy.

"It is really difficult to come out in a policing environment, even for a civilian," she says.

Despite the fact that Canada is considered one of the most progressive countries in the world when it comes to LGBT rights, Turner believes many police officers who identify as LGBT continue to live dual lives.

"If we are going to foster a healthy workplace for everyone, we can't have employees feeling that they have to keep so much of their lives secret."

I do think it's changing however."

Corporal Christine Hobin is H Division's (Nova Scotia) Diversity Coordinator and a member of the National Advisory Committee for Visible Minorities. She says reflecting the communities the RCMP serves is not a nice to have, but a necessity.

"If we want to engage people, we need to understand the experiences of those we serve," says the granddaughter of Virginia slaves who came to Canada on the Underground Railroad.

"It provides different perspectives and we need to have a wide perspective to be an effective police service."

The movement to being an "inclusive organization" is gaining popularity in both the private and public sectors - including policing - in Canada, according to Henstock.

Some of the operational benefits reported by police services that have moved to inclusiveness include lowered crime statistics and increased community cooperation, trust and satisfaction. There are also internal benefits such as increased retention, more effective use of human resources and increased employee morale and motivation.

Turner says that if we want better solutions and better approaches, if we want to provide an innovative, community-based service, input from many different perspectives is key.

Simply put, she says, "all of us are smarter than one of us."

Diversity committee champions: In their own words

All employees play a crucial role in embracing diversity and inclusiveness in the workplace. As the Champion of National Advisory Committee for Persons with Disabilities, I am confident that together we will continue to create and support workplaces that are inclusive, respectful and value equality. The RCMP has, and will, continue to work diligently to champion the rights and dignity of people with disabilities.

When we can provide a safe, respectful and healthy work environment for all diversity groups, we become a stronger, more inclusive and trusted organization. Our employees from the LGBT community all want to make a meaningful contribution to the RCMP's mandate of ensuring public safety in Canada - that contribution will be enhanced a hundred fold when we not only support, but celebrate our diversity.

Having a workplace that values diversity and fosters an inclusive work environment sends a strong message to all employees. It tells them and the public that the RCMP is an organization in which employees feel included, valued and respected, allowing for better employee engagement, productivity, and increased employee morale.

We embrace diversity and inclusion as critical to enhance our effectiveness and to accomplish the RCMP's mission of ensuring the safety and well-being of all Canadians. To this end, we will meaningfully celebrate the diverse and unique perspectives of our First Nations, Metis and Inuit employees who continue to play a key role in strengthening our organization. The responsibility for diversity and inclusion lies with us all.

The RCMP will ensure female employee's full participation in our organization by promoting a respectful environment, and by proactively monitoring gender representation in all areas of policing. We also will continue to remove or amend physical standards and policies without justifiable operational requirements. Other ways to impact inclusivity include the Commissioner's initiative to proactively increase the percentage of the Force's sworn officer positions to over 30% women by 2025.

It is hard to believe it was only 40 years ago that the RCMP accepted women into the Force as police officers. When I joined 11 years ago, I thought of my application as my right; I was lucky to have not known a time when it was not. I am privileged to be part of the RCMP in this day and age, when women are active and respected police officers. I am also honoured to have the opportunity to thank the women who have made this possible for me and others.

I have enjoyed reading the articles on RCMP.ca about the history of women in the Force. It has allowed me to reflect upon the courage these women had entering into this demanding job, and their willingness to work through the challenges that come with working in a male-dominated career. Many of the articles painted a clearer picture of the trials and tribulations female RCMP officers have faced over the decades.

I'm thankful for many of the changes they fought for to make our Force one where equality matters. For instance, I am thankful that in the '90s the Force decided to issue women the standard RCMP uniform and that the purse and pillbox caps were done away with. The thought of them is funny but they were not practical at all and would have been a constant reminder that women were treated differently from their male colleagues.

I am thankful these women who came before me were brave enough to face the "pushback" and work through discrimination to prove we are qualified and able, that we can do the same job as male officers. It is because of these amazing women, and all of the others along the way, that women are found in a vast variety of different roles in the RCMP today.

The articles in this series only scratched the surface of the barriers that have been broken. As a member of the RCMP, I have had the opportunity to meet and hear the journeys of many female members. I am grateful to have been able to learn from their experiences, as they shared their advice, knowledge, humour and support.

Thank you to all women who joined the RCMP in those early years and to those men who welcomed and encouraged them. You have truly paved the way for women today to enter a more accepting Force. Your determination and courage broke down barriers for me and all women who have joined the force since.

Cst. Jennifer George
Toronto West Detachment, O Division RCMP