In this piece written for the NPAA as part of World Autism Acceptance Month, Detective Chief Inspector Becky Davies of Devon & Cornwall Police reflects on her promotion journey as an autistic and ADHD female officer

It’s been a few years since my last blog post, but when the National Police Autism Association approached me to write about my most recent experience of promotion, I decided it was time for the next episode.

It is a privilege to be asked to write this blog post for the NPAA. It is also a privilege to have made it in to senior leadership in policing and be leading a team of Detective Constables, Sergeants, Inspectors and police staff dealing with some of the most serious and complex crime in policing. The journey was, as usual, a little bumpy.

I have previously blogged and recorded podcasts about my other experiences of promotion to Sergeant, Detective Sergeant and Detective Inspector, as well as the journey I have been on as a late discovered autistic and ADHD individual. You can find these here if interested in a read or listen: Becky’s Story: Neurodivergence and Police Promotion (hosted by Rank Success) and Episode 6 – Out of the Dark, a podcast hosted by The Late Discovered Club, a resource for autistic women diagnosed in later life.

Following promotion to Detective Inspector in 2022, I spent two and a half happy years leading a team investigating child and vulnerable adult abuse. In about November 2023, I started to think about the next steps and considered both lateral and promotional development. I still loved my job and my team, but I had achieved what I had intended, and the two years I promised I would stay for was approaching in April 2024.

At the time I was told that I was performing really well, and with a few extra boxes ticked I’d be ready. I was given a list of ‘things to do’ to further prepare. Five months later, PDR time came around. I was graded outstanding but put into a development category that essentially said I wasn’t ready. For those other neurodivergents out there you can probably guess what the summary of the request was in order to be ‘ready’…

I’ve come to coin the term ‘do more, be different’. I have lost count of the times that in various ways I’ve been told that I needed to do more and be different. Even when I was doing more than many of my neurotypical peers, and I was masking to the detriment of my own wellbeing to ‘be different’: being more social, trying harder to read the room, trying harder to dial down the passion, the directness, the impatience. Taking on work far beyond my own sphere of influence, not just to tick a box or two for self-serving promotion purposes, but to make genuine sustainable change.

This time I wasn’t willing to ‘do more’ or ‘be different’, because I was already doing more than enough and I now knew I’m autistic and ADHD. Whilst I would seek to gain understanding from others and reflect on the impact of my neurodivergence, the onus was no longer just on me. I was also 41 years of age and tired of it.

The evidence for my ‘do more, be different’ was non-existent. Yet the evidence of me working really hard to raise awareness and understanding of ND as well as selling the benefits in many roles including senior leadership was in abundance. As was the evidence of leading change in the projects I had taken on to improve performance within the department and beyond.

Luckily the process had changed to enable people like me to access it. There were measures to prevent the people already in the privileged position of senior leadership from always supporting the same people – that is, people like them – and to stop unconscious bias creeping in even before submission of an application. The new process was designed to ensure the full range of the available talent pool was assessed.

So in went the ‘expression of interest’ form. Written from the heart. A true authentic reflection of my past few years in policing condensed into 800 words, sent straight to the assessment centre for anonymous marking. There were some challenging conversations as to why I was going against the status quo once again; but the bottom line was: ‘because I can and therefore I must – not only for me as an individual but for other diverse individuals seeking lateral and promotional development’.

This time I wasn’t willing to ‘do more’ or ‘be different’, because I was already doing more than enough and I now knew I’m autistic and ADHD. I was also 41 years of age and tired of it.

I passed the written part of the process convincingly. Then it was time to go and sit in front of HR and senior leaders in the board process – a process that once upon a time would have seen me go to pieces and fail. Fortunately, over the years I have crafted my skills and abilities in this respect to perform and mentored many others. I talk about this in my blog/podcast for Rank Success.

My board consisted of a HR representative, a Detective Superintendent and a Detective Chief Superintendent – people who had known me a long time, and from pre-diagnosis. They had experienced the very direct communication, the non-existent small talk, the alarming (for some) levels of passion and drive, the ‘dog with a bone’ perspective, the intense eye contact, the face that amplifies whatever mild feeling I may have in my head on it.

I couldn’t help but wonder before, and in the aftermath, what their worldview of me as a person was. Whether it was different since they became aware some time before the board that I am not neurotypical. In the board, I did what I always do and assigned positivity to that worldview, as negative self -talk is unhelpful.

Afterwards I was happy with my performance and I felt I had given it my best whether that was a pass or fail. I spoke very candidly about my neurodivergence. The strengths and challenges that it brings in a policing organisation (or indeed any organisation).

When I got the phone call from the Chair to say I had passed, I was a little surprised with the quality of many of the other candidates and the fact it was my first process. A decent pass, not a scrape through. It was also bitter-sweet. I was sad to leave the department and team I had wanted to work in for over 10 years previously.

Deep down, the difficulties entering the process had also damaged my confidence and imposter syndrome had crept in a little more than usual. It is, however, something I’m used to, and whilst once upon a time it may have been my undoing, these days the ‘no you need to be different and do more’ narrative only makes me more determined to prove the disbelievers wrong.

Ultimately I have two neurodivergent children currently navigating an education system that is not fit for them, along with many other diagnosed and undiagnosed children (particularly girls). In the not too distant future they will enter the world of work and I am determined that they won’t experience the same unnecessary barriers or challenges that I and so many other neurodivergent people (particularly women) have.

As I touched upon at the start of this blog, I was lucky enough to land in another detective role at Chief Inspector looking after a large cohort of police officers and staff investigating some of the most serious and complex investigations. They are experts and specialists in their field. Their collective and individual skills, experience and knowledge is outstanding.

Within a short period of time I have already come to feel proud of the work they do every day, and I feel lucky and privileged to be responsible for looking after them and making life better and easier for them through sustained incremental change. Change that is often driven or instigated by them, because I don’t have all the ideas and I actively encourage them to share their frustrations and their ideas, especially the Rebel Ideas.

I also feel lucky and proud that policing organisations like ours are actively thinking about how to improve our diversity and creating promotion processes to achieve this in a short space of time. If it weren’t for this, I and others wouldn’t be in these positions now bringing their ND talents and enabling others to bring theirs. The future is a little brighter and hopefully a little smoother. ∎

by Kinga Halliday
Police Constable | British Transport Police

As a female police officer diagnosed with ADHD and autism in a typically high-pressure profession, I face a unique combination of challenges and strengths. This experience is both empowering and overwhelming.

My recent diagnosis gave me a sense of relief, as it allowed me to understand myself better. My journey through life and professional experiences have provided me with invaluable insights that I cherish deeply. This understanding empowers me to reframe my struggles, allowing me to tackle challenges confidently and with self-compassion, and to clearly understand why specific tasks or situations require more effort or adjustment.

Police sirens, the sound of a radio, shouting, screaming, crying —suddenly, this is both empowering and overwhelming. You do not fit in the team, station, or division; you are different. You are either best or worst, but never in between. This is both empowering and overwhelming. You struggle with social interactions and yet show more genuine compassion. You show your strengths to those in need and defend the vulnerable. Does it sound familiar?

I feel this way every day, but I am not alone. I have experienced support, care, and compassion from my colleagues and family. Determination and perseverance helped me achieve my academic goals and complete my training. Over seven years on, I am still standing arm in arm with my colleagues, guarding the peace and ensuring safety on your travels. ∎