|
|
Narrative Therapy Dissertation
|
|
DECONSTRUCTING SECONDARY TRAUMA AND RACISM AT A SOUTH AFRICAN POLICE SERVICE STATION |
|
|
A Dissertation by JO VILJOEN |
|
|
INTRODUCING THE LANDSCAPE AND EXPERIENCE
We live in a landscape of discourses , a landscape dotted with landmarks marking boundaries; structuring our daily living; providing safety and order. We attach great value to familiar landmarks. But a landscape punctuated by dominating and oppressive landmarks may also lead to a sense of claustrophobia. More so, living in a landscape where the boundaries serve as restraints, may result in confinement rather than orderly living. (Myburg 2000:5)[Myburg's emphasis] 1.1 EXPECTATIONS OF RESPECTFUL POLICE PRACTICE It is part of the landscape of expectation and public discourse of most South Africans (but unfortunately not always part of their landscape of experience) that the state should guarantee public safety and order. The South African Police Service (SAPS) Code of Conduct, values and mission statement (see Appendix A) reflect the expectation that the police are expected to protect everyone's rights, to be impartial, respectful, open and accountable to the community. The police are expected to use their powers in a responsible way, and to provide 'effective and high-quality service with honesty and integrity' (SAPS 1999:1). These are also the expectations of respectful policing held by many members of the police when they join the service. However, many policemen and -women are unable to fulfil their youthful ideals of such respectful practice and are faced with the realities of often disrespectful police practice, which may involve stressful experiences of traumatic events and racism. The experiences of these police officers, restrained by various discourses, can have tragic consequences for these officers' lives: Coils entwine me. I am constricted unto death. The end being the same, I merely shorten the pre- liminaries, taking release. Do not weep. It is you who put off This ending so long. (Walker 2000) Bill's* story is that of an officer from the police station where this study was conducted: The apartment is sparsely furnished. The winter sun streams in through dirty windows, highlighting the drabness and the dust on the coffee table. Overflowing ashtrays are dotted about the room. In a chair in the corner sits a tall, well-built young man, smoking, his body bent over, appearing aged. The once beautiful curtain hangs limply, not caring whether it covers the window or not. Nothing matches. A police captain smartly dressed in his uniform rubs his hand over his cropped hair, and motions for me to sit down near the young man. The service pistol with which the young man had threatened to take his life is lying safely at the captain's feet. It almost resembles one of those life-like toys small boys use in a game of cops and robbers. We were responding to a call for help, a threatened police suicide. The young man, a sergeant, is stone cold sober. His half-written suicide note lies on the table in a school jotter. His children stand around bewildered, frightened. His colleagues pop in to inquire if there are 'problems'. Everyone looks concerned, nervous, frightened. Everybody speaks in whispers, as though afraid of saying the wrong thing. Bill is a respected and well-loved member of the shift command. His last shift ended more than forty-eight hours ago. He has not slept much since then. He appears unkempt and sweaty. He repeatedly runs his fingers through his hair. Then he jumps up in search of his cigarettes. Nightmares haunt him. He sees a severed hand, reaching out to him. He runs but cannot outrun the hand. It seems to have obtained a life of its own. The memory of the hand stems from an accident scene he attended more than two years ago. A truck collided with a car, killing the driver of the car. Bill attended to the traumatised witnesses and bystanders, cordoned off the scene of the accident, recorded the events in the prescribed manner and informed the deceased's next of kin of his death. And then he went on to the next call. He did not receive any form of debriefing. He drank more and more. He eventually received treatment for alcohol abuse. But the victim's severed hand haunted him. He still cannot get away from it. Financial difficulties prevent him from paying his outstanding accounts and the municipality has informed him of its intention to disconnect his electricity. His relationship with his wife had ended in divorce. The domestic worker who cleans his apartment had not come to work that day. During his last shift he had witnessed another traumatic incident. His promotion had been denied. It had all become too much. He saw no hope, no way out, no future. He did not speak to his colleagues on his shift about the horror he had experienced at a recent crime scene, because everybody else appeared to be handling it well enough. No one flinched, or even made a comment. He did not speak out because he had been treated for post-traumatic stress before and did not want his colleagues to think he could not cope. They all seemed to be coping perfectly, so he kept quiet. He did what was expected of him, and came home after work to his world of nightmares. The nightmare became such a reality that his service pistol seemed to be his last resort. Admission to a psychiatric clinic for emergency treatment saved Bill's life. But the police service has lost him. His expertise and experience leave the service with him. He has become one of the statistics: medical disability due to work-related secondary (and possibly primary) traumatic stress. Bill's story exemplifies the personal trauma police officers experience daily at the busy, urban police station where this study was conducted. Bill's story relates only one person's experience of life in the police service. This study hopes to introduce to you the stories of some of the other officers from this specific police station (see Chapter Three, Section 3.6). The public expects the police to meet its expectations of respectful practice and to deliver a professional and effective service. The officers have the same goal, but find themselves the captives of various, often conflicting, discourses in a changing world. My role as pastoral narrative therapist is to deconstruct problem narratives (stories) by exploring subjugated marginalised narratives, discovering unique outcomes and strengthening steps of resistance in order to make possible respectful police practice instead of remaining oppressed by restrictive discourses. 1.1.1 Deconstructing trauma and racism In the words of White (1992:121): I should preface this discussion of deconstruction with an admission &endash; I am not an academic, but, for the want of a better word, a therapist. It is my view that not being situated in the academic world allows me certain liberties, including the freedom to break some rules &endash; for example to use the term deconstruction in a way that may not be in accord with its strict Derridian sense… According to White (1992:121), a rather loose definition of deconstruction has to do with procedures that subvert taken-for-granted realities and practices; those so-called 'truths' that are split off from the conditions and the context of their production, those disembodied ways of speaking that hide their biases and prejudices, and those familiar practices of self and of relationships that are subjugating of persons' lives. Many of the methods of deconstruction render strange these familiar and everyday taken-for-granted realties and practices by objectifying them. In this sense, the methods of deconstruction are methods that 'exoticize the domestic'. As the study progressed, I realised that it would be impossible to restrict the research process to the deconstruction of secondary trauma and racism, as the police officers were experiencing direct trauma as well as secondary trauma or compassion fatigue. The officers themselves did not distinguish between direct and secondary trauma, but simply referred to 'stress'. Bill's story illustrates the combination of trauma experienced by these officers. Thus, the study generally refers to 'stress' or 'trauma', using specific examples in many instances, and to racism. 1.2 FACING THE SHAME OF THE PAST In the year 2000, it was six years after South Africa had celebrated its peaceful transition from white minority rule to democracy. The transition has affected all South Africans and has had an influence on South African society at every level of its existence. These changes, 'the political and social disharmonies in South Africa' have 'affected, some would say infected, all aspects of life in this country' (Finn & Gray 1992:v), producing substantial shifts in the way South Africans experience the world. The need to face the country's history and cope with the changes is a call to all South Africans to act and think in new ways. Change brings with it a fear of the unknown, challenging fundamental 'truths' and perceptions. Power relationships and the status of people often shift when socio-political changes occur, bringing about uncertainty and insecurity. Political change has also had a profound impact on the SAPS. South African society has changed dramatically, as have South Africans' ways of experiencing the changes around them. For members of the police these social and political changes are so significant that they call into question the very core of policing. Past and current South African historical-political contexts continue to leave a profound mark on the national police service. During four decades of minority rule, the police were responsible for the maintenance of law and order. During those years, however, maintaining law and order meant more than crime prevention. It also involved the implementation of apartheid laws. Many members of the police witnessed terrible acts and events. Many were unwilling or reluctant witnesses, working in a state of 'cultivated blindness' (Asmal, Asmal & Roberts 1997:145), while others willingly participated. It may be argued that the latter officers, blinded by the patriotic, nationalist discourse of white supremacy, may have participated in the belief that they were 'fighting for South Africa'. When the Truth and Reconciliation Commission exposed the atrocities of apartheid, the world witnessed the horrors of that system. The old SAP was often implicated in brutal events, and policemen and -women emerged as perpetrators of human rights violations (Meiring 1999:254). Even today, six years later, the police are still burdened by the political legacy of apartheid. Mbeki (1999:1) even claims that a culture had developed among the police which enabled them to get rid of people by any means they wished to use, as is suggested also in the following poem, 'In Detention': He fell from the ninth floor He hanged himself He slipped on a piece of soap while washing He hanged himself He slipped on a piece of soap while washing He fell from the ninth floor He hanged himself while washing He slipped from the ninth floor He hung from the ninth floor He slipped on the ninth floor while washing He fell from a piece of soap while slipping He hung from the ninth floor He washed from the ninth floor while slipping He hung from a piece of soap while washing (Van Wyk 1992:136)
The Truth and Reconciliation Commission also exposed the role the criminal justice system played during the apartheid regime (Krog 1998; Meiring 1999). An abusive criminal justice system enforced white segregationist laws and prisoners had very few rights: We tried many cases of police brutality, though our success rate was quite low. Police assaults were always difficult to prove. The police were clever enough to detain a prisoner long enough for the wounds and bruises to heal, and often it was simply the word of a policeman against our client. The magistrates naturally sided with the police. The coroner's verdict on a death in police custody would often read 'Death due to multiple causes' or some vague explanation that let the police off the hook. (Mandela 1994:176) Members of the judicial system formed an integral part of the oppressive apartheid system through 'their straightforward role in implementing apartheid legislation, and especially because of their enthusiasm in so doing, the courts, with a few honourable exceptions, became active partisan upholders of apartheid' (Asmal et al 1997:126). Despite far-reaching legal changes towards a democratic constitution, attention to equality before the law for all South African citizens, and changing the name of the police organisation from a 'force' to a 'service', the legacy of police brutality remains, fostering community distrust in the police and the judicial system. The members of the SAPS still carry the burden of this legacy, inherited from their predecessors in the old SAP: Within the police force … traditional baas en kneg (master and servant) attitudes still survive and sometimes dominate at the expense of the community policing models that are being introduced in the new South Africa. (Asmal et al 1997:127) Police work is intimately linked to the judicial system. Police officers are supposed to be responsible for the gathering of evidence to prove, beyond reasonable doubt, that a suspect has committed a particular offence. The suspect must then be apprehended and brought to trial. However, despite the fact that the new constitution adheres to international law, there appear to be some serious dilemmas that frustrate the attempts of the SAPS in its fight against crime. Severe concerns about the current state of the judicial system and the police service were recently voiced by the South African Broadcasting Corporation (SABC), during a panel discussion broadcast on SABC 3 (Mbuli 2000). Firstly, there are many problems that complicate a speedy conclusion to cases in court. Furthermore, the panel remarked on the inefficiency of the SAPS. Panellists mentioned that the SAPS is seriously understaffed and underpaid for the work it has to do. The police officers who consulted with me have their own views about these issues too. A senior officer related bitterly during an interview: 'We risk our lives every day, but at the end, the criminal is the winner, he has more rights. He is out committing his next crime.' The effects of the political transition in South Africa on the members of the police have been profound. Many factors &endash; socio-political change, changes in public expectations and public criticism &endash; have an effect and may result in stress, both direct and secondary, for members of the police and those close to them (see Chapter Three, Section 3.5, for a more detailed discussion). 'We all suffer from stress, man! And so would you, if you worked under these conditions! We just have to cope with it and carry on,' one policewoman said. The most drastic response to stress is probably suicide, or attempted suicide, as in Bill's case. Stress can result in responses ranging from suicide and other violence, disability and rapid staff turnover to poor interpersonal relationships, apathy, feelings of hopelessness and a decrease in performance. Reports of police suicides reflect the level of demoralisation experienced by policemen and -women. (Some reports on stress and police suicides are included in Appendix B.) During May 2000, the SABC reported on two policemen who had committed family murders before turning their service pistols on themselves. Hence, concern about police suicides is increasing. On 21 December 2000, the Pretoria News (2000b:3) reported on the deaths of three police officers in twenty-four hours. The management of the SAPS expressed concern about the high suicide rate in the police service. However, a police spokesperson, Assistant Commissioner Janet Basson, argued that there are 'adequate support systems for police offers to maintain their mental health' (Pretoria News 2000b:3). She said: Although police officials are exposed to unique circumstances that involve danger and daily encounters with death and accidents that can lead to high stress levels, this cannot be seen as an excuse [for suicide]. In spite of such disclaimers, stress and stress-related conditions are a severe and very real reaction to stressors such as traumatic events, often resulting in permanent disability. Nel and Burgers (1998:20) state that stress-related disabilities constitute a high percentage of reasons for medical retirements from the police service. So, for example, it cost South African taxpayers R 250 000 in the first months of 1994 to medically board nine hundred and four police officers (Nel & Burgers 1998:20). The costs of medical boarding are also high in terms of a loss of valuable human resources and irreplaceable expertise. From more recent research it appears as if the tendency to leave the service due to permanent medical disability is increasing. Emsley, Seedat and Stein (2000:9) presented their findings at the Annual Psychiatry Conference in Durban during September 2000: The number of security force members applying for medical disability has increased dramatically. A negative perception of the workplace, job insecurity and a perceived lack of support and empathy were found to be important factors other than exposure to trauma that contributed to the experience of 'stress' and the application for medical disability. A negative attitude toward the security forces was expressed by 90% of subjects, and 95% displayed phobic symptoms towards their work. South African crime statistics (see Appendix C) reflect the state of society in this country. Violent crimes, hijackings and housebreaking are on the increase, despite a new police strategy of targeting high-density areas with anti-crime operations. Criminals in turn target the police and police killings are common. The Pretoria News (2000a:4) reported that one hundred and ninety two police officers had been killed in different places and for different reasons in Gauteng between January and October 2000. The SAPS provincial spokesperson, Henriette Bester, commenting on the killing of two off-duty police officers in two separate incidents on the same day, said that 'whenever police officers left their homes, they faced possible death' (Pretoria News 2000a:4). Ms Bester said that 'police were targeted because of the perception that they carried firearms even when off-duty. There were officers who carried their firearms home because the areas in which they lived were considered dangerous' (Pretoria News 2000a:4).
I am convinced that a state of spiritual weariness and exhaustion affects most South Africans. The South African government has taken legal action to criminalise racism and discrimination, but racism and discrimination remain present as a suppressed and silenced reality. Racism, veiled by political correctness, feeds on the historical social injustices from which it was bred. Racial tension contributes to the work stress and frustrations experienced by policemen and -women. Direct exposure to traumatic events takes its toll on them as people, while the process of indirect or secondary traumatisation produces strong reactions of 'grief, rage, and outrage, which grow as [they] repeatedly hear about and see other people's pain and loss' (Saakvitne & Pearlman 1996:41). The effects are still not fully understood, but some progress has been made: Today, we are on the brink of another transformation in consciousness with respect to understanding the effects on individuals, families, communities and societies of witnessing traumatic events. A witness is created by the exposure of a third party to the action of a perpetrator on a victim, whether the perpetrator is a person or a process. The effects of witnessing are many. When people witness unaware of the full implications of doing so, it can lead to a distortion of feeling. Some people experience exaggerated, intense emotionality and others bland numbness. These feelings, along with the memories of the witnessed events themselves, produce intergenerational consequences. (Weingarten 2000a:1)[Weingarten's emphasis]
The government's policy of affirmative action contributes further to their complex relationships with one another. White officers at the station where I conducted this study alluded to 'reverse racism'; black officers reported incidents of overt racism, and there was constant racial tension between the two groups. Affirmative action has made South African white males, like their American counterparts, newly aware of their whiteness and maleness: And once they recognize these attributes and the benefits they bestow, [they] understandably resist giving them [the benefits] up. That is why when white men lose the preferential treatment they traditionally enjoyed at the expense of blacks and women, they call it 'reverse discrimination'. (Wellman 1999:322) The above rings true, particularly for white policemen. Therefore, 'stress' is no stranger in the lives of members of the police, whether this stress accompanies political changes, direct or indirect exposure to trauma, or the effects of racism and stressful working conditions. The dominant police subculture prohibits members of the police from acknowledging emotional pain (Burgers 1994:6). This dominant discourse in the police service silences officers when they are traumatised or in need of relief from emotional pain. One young policeman commented wryly during our conversation: 'It is not really something you talk about. It's easier to joke about these things. Anyway, all we talk about all the time are dead bodies and blood.' For police officers, feelings of vulnerability are diametrically opposed to their training and expectations (Fay 1999:10). Feelings of vulnerability and fear invite shame, making it difficult for officers to seek help. The officers and the public expect policemen and -women to be in control at all times, to show no fear and to maintain an image of invulnerability. The image of invulnerability has been referred to as the 'John Wayne Syndrome' (Skultety & Singer 1994 in Fay 1999:10), forcing officers to live up to a self-imposed measure of what a 'real cop' is supposed to be like. If officers express a need for help, their colleagues will probably tell them, in good 'John Wayne' style, to pull themselves together (Reese 1987 in Fay 1999:10). Police officers who attempt to live up to these expectations are said to have a shorter life expectancy, by fourteen years, when compared to the average person (Linden & Klein 1988 in Fay 1999:10). At the station where this research was conducted, officers referred to the dominant macho discourse as 'the tough guy syndrome' (see Chapter Three, Section 3.6.2). 'The men who adopt the 'tough guy' image find it more difficult to talk about their problems than we do,' a senior policewoman said. 'The stigma associated with stress-related conditions and psychiatric diagnoses keep them quiet, and prevent them from seeking help.' Stress spills over into their family lives. One officer volunteered how hard it was for him to cope at work. He told me that he did not experience respect from anybody. He commented on the verbal abuse that he was subjected to from the public, the way his seniors shouted orders at him, leaving him feeling 'as highly-strung as a guitar chord'. It affected his family life in the following way: I expected my family to be perfect. If they made a tiny mistake, I would rage at them. After my rage was spent, I would feel terrible, humiliated, a failure. I turned on myself and started drinking more and more to relieve these feelings of guilt. I felt guilty about everything. I had no self-image and became very depressed. Although they belong to an excellent medical aid with good benefits and have access to state-provided social work and psychological services, the police officers I met tried to cope with their problems on their own, sometimes with disastrous results. An officer volunteered: 'Some of the guys just cannot cope with it, and end up doing a number on themselves. You must remember we all have service pistols and we are well trained at using them.' Another warned: 'If they confiscate my service weapon it won't stop me from blowing my brains out! There are many ways to do it…' A policeman with many years of service had the following to say: 'There is no way I would use the police social services to help me with a problem because I don't trust them. Everything goes into your file and then when promotions come around, you are discriminated against. No way!' Furthermore, despite the medical aid benefits that make quality private in- and outpatient psychiatric care available to members, they often deny their need for assistance. Denial seems to be kept intact by the prevailing dominant male (macho) subculture in the service (see Chapter Three, Section 3.1). On the other hand, Nel and Burgers (1998:19) suggest that a diagnosis of posttraumatic stress disorder appears to have become an acceptable way for officers to obtain medical disability as a form of honourable discharge from the SAPS. Firstly, they suggest that it may have almost become a stereotype for police officers to display symptoms of posttraumatic stress disorder, given the extent and regularity of their exposure to traumatic conditions. Secondly, they suggest that officers seeking a way out may exaggerate symptoms of posttraumatic stress disorder, such as internalisation of aggression and self-violence, in an attempt to avoid dealing with the recent political changes in the country: Now that police officials no longer enjoy the support of the government, organisation or the community, and accept this definition of 'sick', they tend to internalise the feelings of aggression previously expressed during the execution of their duties. (Nel & Burgers 1998:23) According to Nel and Burgers (1998:22), many private medical practitioners, psychiatrists and psychologists, whether knowingly or not, for financial gain or otherwise, seem to aid and abet this process of stereotyping and reinforcing the 'sick role' behaviour many officials have adopted. This is probably because of the decontextualised approach many professionals have to issues of mental health. The role of media stereotyping should also not be underestimated, Nel and Burgers (1998:22) continue, because 'officials previously sketched as "sick" for their use of excessive force are now deemed "sick" because of stress and exposure to violence'. The conditions set out above formed the rationale for my decision to approach the police service for the purposes of this study. The historical and political circumstances, the effects of the transition in the country on them as people, their high levels of stress and continuous exposure to direct and indirect trauma posed serious obstacles to their functioning and respectful police practice. Their individual and collective stories spoke of desperation, frustration, anger and disappointment. Tangible racial tension often filled the air at the station. Work stress, primary and secondary traumatisation and exhaustion takes its toll on their lives. The SAPS Code of Conduct (see Appendix A) commits police officers to creating a safe and secure environment for all the people in South Africa, by acting 'impartially, courteously, honestly, respectfully, transparently and in an accountable manner; exercis[ing] the powers conferred upon [them] in a responsible and controlled manner' (SAPS sa). Moreover, in terms of the public expectations of respectful police practice, in the words of Assistant Commissioner Janet Basson (Pretoria News 2000b:3), 'police officials are to be seen as the protectors of the community and should not be feared because of their lack of self-control or professional conduct'. However, given the stress that they are under, providing respectful policing of this nature is difficult, if not impossible. In my former professional capacity as advanced psychiatric nurse specialist, I have been privy to stories of pain, demotivation, alcohol abuse and abuse of other substances, corruption, guilt, trauma, and disillusionment told by policemen and -women receiving inpatient psychiatric care. I have heard many confessions and guilt-riddled stories. I have spent nights caring for young police officers plagued by recurring nightmares, flashbacks, uncontrollable anger and rage. I have also witnessed able-bodied men and women withdraw from interpersonal contact in an effort to avoid activities, people and places that could cause recollections of the trauma they have witnessed or experienced. Difficulty in falling asleep, exaggerated startle responses and hyper-vigilance may necessitate intensive nursing even at night. These police officers often sit alone in the dark, smoking, despite pharmacological and psychotherapeutic interventions. It seems such a tragedy, such a waste of potential. Most of policemen and -women who were treated as inpatients complained of 'work stress'. For police officers to adapt to the changes which clearly affect their own lives and work, while having to ensure stability in terms of law and order within a society that is adapting to these changes, is no simple task (Nel & Burgers 1998:21). The gravity of their situation touched me deeply. Somehow, their stories touched me personally. My father, long retired, and my brother still in active service, are both policemen. Because I am currently practising as a narrative pastoral therapist, I wondered whether narrative pastoral therapy could make a positive contribution towards strengthening respectful police practice in the SAPS. I wondered whether narrative pastoral therapy could provide police officers with an alternative story of hope. I was inspired by a paper by Denborough (1996:91-116) in which he described steps taken towards developing appropriate and effective ways of working with young men to reduce violence at schools. I saw many similarities between the two contexts. Denborough (1996:108) ran workshops in which adults treated adolescent boys with respect and deconstructed the need for violence in a collaborative process. I believe that the situation South African police officers face is similar to that of the young men in Denborough's study in that both the boys and the officers were expected to perform in a disciplined manner and to meet societal expectations of various kinds. However, neither the adolescents nor the police officers were treated with respect or allowed a voice. By inviting the adolescents in his study to develop a voice in constructing and deconstructing their situation, Denborough's (1996:91-116) group managed to reduce violent responses. I showed Denborough's (1996:91-106) research to the station commissioner of one of the busiest police stations in a large urban area, and suggested workshops using Denborough's (1996:108) approach. The counselling and workshops would form part of my research. I gained permission to conduct workshops and research, as the station commissioner was of the opinion that this approach could strengthen respectful practice and increase the morale of the officers, and could have positive effects on the community they serve.
1.3 RESEARCH AIMS The original aims of this study were to co-discover and challenge the problems of secondary trauma and racism that stand in the way of the officers' at a particular SAPS station's preferred, respectful police practice and to co-author ways in a therapy-as-research process during which the effects of secondary trauma and racism on their lived experience could be deconstructed. The aim of the study was to co-construct new realities in a collaborative process with the participants of the study (see Chapter One, Section 1.6.2). The objective was to use narrative pastoral therapy to deconstruct secondary trauma and racism to revise the participants' relationships with these problems. As the study progressed, it became clear that separating the different types of stress was very difficult during this process of co-construction. Because the officers themselves did not make such distinctions, I also do not distinguish between the different types of stress, except in Chapter Three. To deconstruct is not to undo or to destroy but to gently take apart and expose that which has been invisible to the naked eye (Myburg 2000:12). To deconstruct dominant discourses of stress and racism implies questioning their invisibility and normativeness and to look for alternative preferred ways of being, ways that are preferred by the police officers in question. To reach this objective, the research was directed by a number of issues. Firstly, this research studied South African police practice at one police station in order to understand the meaning of respectful police practice in the lives of policemen and -women on their own terms. Secondly, it attempted to co-construct ways of strengthening respectful police practice with the study participants. This study sought to co-construct answers to questions such as the following, and to use these questions to deconstruct existing dominant discourses. Thus, there is no attempt to answer these questions systematically, or to present the results of asking these questions. Instead, the questions merely underpin the not-knowing approach (see Chapter Two, Section 2.2.1) followed in the deconstruction and co-construction process. How do policemen and -women experience respectful police practice in their work context? What are the discursive barriers that stand in the way of respectful police practice? What are the words they use to describe their lived experience of police practice? What impact does the political, economic or psychosocial aspect of policing have on respectful police practice? Does the social context of police practice influence respectful practice? What effects do 'stress' and racism have on the lived experience of police officers and respectful police practice? What effects do political, economic or psychosocial discourses have on respectful police practice? How can police officers re-author their life stories to create possibilities for the strengthening of respectful police practices? 1.4 RESEARCH METHODOLOGY I chose to conduct a qualitative research study, because the aim of the study is not to quantify objective data, but to co-construct new realities in a collaborative process with the participants of the study. Qualitative research is a field of inquiry in its own right (Denzin & Lincoln 1994:1). Moreover, Qualitative research operates in a complex historical field that crosscuts five historical moments. These five moments simultaneously operate in the present. We describe them as the traditions (1900-1950), the modernistic or golden age (1950-1970), blurred genres (1970-1986), the crisis of representation (1986-1990), and the postmodern or present moments (1990-present). … The postmodern moment is characterised by a new sensibility that doubts all previous paradigms. (Denzin & Lincoln 1994:2) 1.4.1 Qualitative research: Selecting a paradigm and epistemology Qualitative research starts from the perspective and actions of the subjects studied (Alvesson & Skoldberg 2000:4). For the purposes of this study, qualitative research is described as a multi-perspective approach to social interaction, aimed at describing, making sense of, interpreting and reconstructing this interaction in terms of the meanings that the subjects attach to it (Denzin & Lincoln 1994:2). As the qualitative paradigm in its broadest sense refers to research that elicits participant accounts of meanings, experience and perceptions, it also produces descriptive data in the participant's own written and spoken words. It this case it involves identifying the police officers' beliefs and values, which underlie their behaviour (Shurink 1998:243). Furthermore, I use the term 'qualitative research' in a postmodern context. In a postmodern context, knowledge is inherently contextual, local and pluralistic. There is a shift from an objective claim of hegemony to a contextual, local perspective, accurately describing the current cultural (and for a pastoral therapist, theological) situation. In a post-modern context no grand narrative or meta-story can claim dominance. Pluralism is the only alternative to objectivism, as pluralism does not silence all alternative and dissenting opinions by force or impose its view to silence others. 1.4.2 Qualitative research methods 1.4.2.1 Multiple reflexive conversations I used a qualitative research method of multiple reflexive conversations between the participants and 'theoretical discourses'. Gergen and Gergen (1991:89) suggest that the most important feature of this type of work is the sharing of power between researcher and subjects in order to construct meaning (Gergen & Gergen 1991:89). Reflexive conversations made it possible for 'subjects' to become participants and the expansion of the number of interpretations appropriate to a postmodern epistemology. Reflexive conversations included me as an active participant of the research, rather than as an expert looking in. Reflexive conversations took place between the officers and myself, between the officers, between my supervisor and myself, within the therapeutic letters, between the officers individually and during group sessions. I used White and Epston's (White & Epston 1990:48; White 1991:21-40) method of externalising problems to initiate reflexive conversations. 'Externalization is a practice supported by the belief that the problem is something operating or impacting on or pervading a person's life, something separate and different from the person' (Freedman & Combs 1996:47). Reflexive conversations invited the participating officers to change my interpretations and correct misunderstandings or misconceptions I might have had about their lived experience. This enhanced the process of power sharing in the research, as the conversational process became one of collaboration and consultation. 1.4.2.2 Qualitative research interviews During our conversations, we, the officers and I, endeavoured to use qualitative research interview methods to explore new knowledge (Kotzé & Kotzé 1997:27-50) and to re-discover the police officers' implicit, local knowledges. A qualitative research interview provides access to the officers' lived experience: The qualitative research interview is no longer a mere adjunct to the basic scientific methods of observation and experimentation, but provides through conversation between persons, privileged access to the cultural world of intersubjective meaning. In several respects, the knowledge produced in an interview comes close to postmodernistic conceptions of knowledge as conversational, narrative, linguistic, contextual and inter-relational. (Kvale 1992:51) 1.4.2.3 Using story as metaphor A qualitative framework makes the use of the story metaphor possible. As I was primarily interested in knowing the meanings police officers constructed about themselves, the story metaphor served a meaning-making function (McKenzie & Monk 1997:85). Furthermore, I am concerned with listening to, understanding and facilitating a re-authoring process rather than interpreting the officers' stories. Collaborative research and the collaborative re-construction of the police officers' preferred realities made this possible. We embarked on a collaborative process in search of alternative stories of hope that matched the officers' preferred ideas about respectful police practice. 1.4.2.4 A brief word about narrative therapy as praxis The study was designed to ensure that the participating police officers experienced direct benefit from their involvement in and with the research process. This is why I decided on narrative therapy as the praxis of this study: Narrative therapy belongs to a new group of therapies that align themselves with the philosophy of postmodernism … Narrative work is not seen as a process of discovering the truth about who people are but as an exploration of how people construct truths about themselves and their relationships. In their feelings and behaviours, people are viewed as performing the meanings developed in the storying process. (McKenzie & Monk 1997:85) Narrative therapy views people experiencing problems as located in a problem story line: Positive outcomes are identified when the counselor is able to take up a co-authoring role with the client to develop a story line that the client prefers. The client's preferred story is based on lived moments that can be performed as a counterplot to the problem-saturated story. (McKenzie & Monk 1997:85) Narrative therapy has as its aim the co-construction of the participants' preferred realities, the deconstruction of dominant problem discourses and the co-discovery of alternative stories of hope. 1.5 THEORETICAL UNDERPINNINGS As a pastoral therapist, I am influenced by and use a variety of theoretical approaches, which are discussed fully in Chapter Two. The primary focus of this study is ways of working in pastoral narrative therapy, within a postmodern discourse, social construction discourse and a contextual approach to practical theology. In addition, feminist discourses and emancipatory action research informed the study. I have chosen to use a narrative approach in this study, as theories are now read as 'tales of the field' (Van Maanen 1988:517). The narrative approach was the most appropriate way in which I could participate in the lived experience of police officers, in a specific social, economic, cultural and political context. A pastoral narrative approach was also helpful because it acknowledges the lived spiritualities of individuals. As a pastoral narrative therapist I also chose to do emancipatory action research (see Chapter Two, Section 2.5), and took the position of researcher-therapist or therapist-researcher (see Chapter Two, Section 2.6). In an attempt to attain a clearer glimpse and develop a better awareness of the complexities of police experience, and in order to recognise the input I bring to the study as therapist, I have chosen therapist-research as the approach that guides this study. An analogous approach has been used in teacher-research where teachers make a systematic and intentional inquiry about their own school and classroom work (Cochrane-Smith & Lytle 1993:242). This is an unruly though systematic approach to data collection, analysis and interpretation: 'It is not always neat; it tends not to be linear; it cannot be summarised easily; its conduct and findings are, at times, confusing and even contradictory' (Fleischer 1994:87). I selected this form of inquiry as this research strategy helps to co-construct reality more closely than traditional research processes. In this paradigm, the police officers inform me as much as I inform them; I regard them as the experts of their lives and lived experience. According to feminist philosophies, the researched and the researcher are both acknowledged as subjects who interact, construct knowledge based on the context and locality and history that brought them together. This knowledge cannot be generalised but may be relevant to other places and times. Bruner (1993:1) clearly describes the postmodern researcher as someone who is not an objective, authoritative, politically neutral observer standing outside and above the text, but as someone who is historically positioned and locally situated as an all too human observer of the human condition. The postmodern researcher sees meaning as 'radically plural, always open … and there is politics in every account' (Bruner 1993:1). Feminist and womanist epistemology creates an awareness of gendered issues and the patriarchal perpetuation of a system of male domination at the expense of women. 'However, one of the major aims of [these epistemologies] is not to feminise the world, but to make it more human and more hence just. In its more moderate forms, feminist ideas should not be seen as an anti-men as much as a pro-people movement' (Keane 1998:121); there are painful questions concerning the elderly, handicapped people, people of colour, women, the poor, and many others, which feminists would like to see addressed. Feminist ideologies are inclusive of the oppressed and the marginalised: 'In the South African context feminist studies are important elements in the emergence of a democratic and just society since they provide a theoretical framework and intellectual space for transforming kyriarchal knowledges and deeply inculcated values of oppression' (Fiorenza 1994:1) Action research is inherently political. An emancipatory action research approach ensures not only that the status quo is criticised, but that the research will make a contribution to improving society and making it a more 'just' society. It is therefore not only a critical tool for examining epistemology and praxis, but also a practical way of deconstructing oppressive social discourses and co-discovering alternative stories of hope with participating officers. The research questions asked in this research (see Chapter One, Section 1.3), focusing on the positive aspect of respectful police practice, were used in the therapeutic conversations to deconstruct some of the oppressive discourses that stand in the way of respectful police practice. Such oppressive discourses have led to widespread abusive practices, necessitating the creation of the Independent Complaints Directorate (ICD) to deal with the painful reality of current police practice (Melville sa). 1.6 THE CONTEXT OF THE STUDY 1.6.1 The police station Set in the midst of a busy, high-density urban area, the police station where this study was conducted is surrounded by businesses and overpopulated residential apartment blocks. Traditionally a predominantly 'white' suburb, its demographics have changed to that of a so-called 'grey' area since the abolition of the Group Areas Act. The area has always had a high crime rate. At the start of the study, I discovered that the police station was poorly staffed, had inadequate crime-prevention resources, insufficient vehicles and communication systems. The officers described their physical working environment as a 'pig sty'. The client services area was dirty and untidy. There were not enough chairs for the officers to sit on during working hours, and the available chairs had either no backs or no seats. The interior walls were in need of a fresh coat of paint. A lack of funds and the possibility that the station might move to another location prohibited officers from making any physical changes to their immediate work environment. There was a high rate of absenteeism and stress. One officer had recently committed suicide. 1.6.2 The participants 1.6.2.1 Meeting the members I had gained some knowledge of the effects of stress and racism have on police officers from my experience as a psychiatric nurse, but I knew very little of the lived reality of day-to-day policing. I met a white shift commander from this police station who had a special interest in domestic violence and women's issues early in 2000. She expressed the need for a pastoral therapist on her shift, to meet the needs of the victims and perpetrators of domestic violence. I agreed to assist her and her shift members with crisis counselling as a non-governmental official and made my services unconditionally available to them. We all benefited from this arrangement, as I provided a much-needed service while the officer and I got to know one another on a functional level. I worked with them on day and night shifts, went out on patrols and attended crisis calls in the middle of the night. They frequently called me out to the police station to counsel complainants, to intervene in crisis situations and to debrief some of the officers who were exposed to trauma. It was clear that their need for counselling was not purely limited to the provision of a service to the community, but that the officers needed somebody to talk with about their problems. Although this went beyond my brief as a researcher, my involvement as a therapist soon extended to groups other than domestic violence victims or perpetrators. (The therapy given to individuals who were not officers at the SAPS station on which the study focuses is not discussed, but is mentioned here as part of the essential process that made the study itself possible.) During any one shift I would counsel a variety of people, for example, a runaway teenager; a man suffering from psychosis who was 'making a public nuisance of himself'; a suicidal woman; a weepy, inebriated young man who had been rejected by his lover; a suicide victim's next of kin and the wife of a policeman from another area who had been violently physically assaulted by her husband. That is all in a day's work for police officers, excluding the calls to intervene in crimes such as house breaking, thefts and armed robberies in progress, and it was important that I lived and experienced some of what the officers I was working with have to contend with. I met the station commissioner and the client services manager as well as the rest of the management team from 'first floor'. They were very grateful that I was prepared to shoulder some of the counselling responsibilities for the complainants and the officers on one shift. The client services manager recognised the need for a more extensive therapeutic process, and we discussed the possibility of a therapy-as-research project at this police station. The station commissioner gave me permission to do such a project. The client services manager was grateful to have the services of a therapist available to his shift members, because he frequently had to deal with stress-related and racially motivated interpersonal conflict between the officers under his command. He was fully aware of the effects Stress and Racism were having on his people. As the study progressed, I realised that concentrating on the deconstruction of only secondary traumatic trauma would be a purely academic exercise, and that it would be unethical to ignore or exclude from this study the stories of critical and sub-critical incidents, and other direct causes of incidents of stress, that the officers brought to the therapy-as-research process. I therefore included the stories that emerged about stress in any form, whether their origins could be attributed to primary or secondary stress. 1.6.2.2 The officers Approximately eighty percent of the officers on shifts participated in this study in one way or another, either by participating in individual conversations, joining in group conversations, completing the questionnaire on racism (see Chapter Four, Sections 4.9.2 and 4.9.3; and Appendix G) or by referring colleagues and complainants for crisis care and therapy. Their identities cannot be made known to the reader, as we entered into a contract regarding anonymity and confidentiality. The police culture usually excludes outsiders, therefore I feel extremely privileged to have been allowed to share in some of their stories. The scope of this study prohibits me from telling all the stories we shared, but instead, we identified recurring themes in all their stories, which I will share with the reader. The officers concerned granted me permission to explore a limited number of stories in more detail. The group therapy sessions consisted of various officers, some in supervisory positions, while other members are in active service at grassroots level. All the participants were not always present at the group meetings, as work pressure, stress leave, vacations and personal crises did not always allow for their presence. Some of the group meetings had to be cancelled at the last minute, due to a lack of staff and time pressures at the station. All the participants who volunteered to be a part of the group signed consent prior to their participation in any conversations. Individual sessions were held with many officers who did not participate in the group meetings. The client services manager initially referred one or two officers he was concerned about for individual therapy. However, once it became common knowledge that I was talking to officers as a part of a research process, the officers starting making their own appointments and recommending that some of their colleagues come and talk about their problems. 1.6.3 The process I chose multiple methods in order to generate information in this research in an attempt to increase the likelihood of obtaining scientific credibility and research utility. Such an approach is supported by feminist researchers: Feminist descriptions of multi-method research express the commitment to thoroughness, the desire to be open-ended, and to take risks. Multiple methods enable feminist researchers to link past and present, 'data gathering' and action, and individual behaviour with social frameworks. In addition, feminist researchers use multiple methods because of changes that occur to them and other is a project… Sometimes multiple methods reflect the desire to be responsive to the people studied. (Reinharz 1992:197) I had hoped to be able to implement Denborough's (1996:91-108) ideas and hold some workshops with the officers, but I did not realise at the start of the study, that time constraints and work pressures at the police station would prevent us from keeping to the original plan. The officers wanted me to help them with their individual problems in the form of crisis intervention and critical incident debriefing following traumatic incidents. For these reasons, the main method of data construction became a collecting of stories and the challenging of dominant discourses. Firstly some random individual conversations followed by a series of group conversations served as the way in which they told their stories. I invited the officers to tell their stories while I facilitated the conversations, asking questions to deconstruct oppressive discourses. This made it possible for me in writing the narrative, to stay close to the data by using the participants' own words, despite the fact that I was present in the text. The group members verified the context of the text during multiple reflexive conversations. The practice of reflection invited the participants to amend and bring corrections to the texts, thereby ensuring that they regarded the narrative as representative of the conversations that took place and reflective of their lived experiences with stress. During reflexive conversations it emerged that the officers found it irrelevant whether the effects of the stress they were experiencing were due to direct or secondary trauma. They were suffering the effects of multiple incidents of direct and secondary stress, and concentrating on secondary trauma as the primary subject of this study quickly became an academic exercise. I met most of the officers working at that particular police station during the initial stages of this study. They invited me to work alongside them, attending crisis calls and incidences of reported domestic violence. Gradually their commander started referring individual officers for individual therapy and/or critical incident debriefing. Later on, officers were referring fellow officers for therapeutic conversations. Every officer who shared a story for the purposes of this study, whether it was individually or in a group, chose to sign a written consent form (see Appendix D). While they were in the process of introducing me to their world, I worked alongside them during night and day shifts, attending calls with them as a non-governmental officer. Some of the individual conversations and critical incident debriefings that became a part of this study occurred during this time. The shift commanders often called me out in the middle of the night when a complainant required counselling or crisis intervention, and started referring their colleagues for assistance with personal and work-related problems. The client services manager wanted more of the officers to benefit from the therapy process. He requested that we meet with a group of officers on a regular basis. He personally invited specific officers to become a part of this group. The group initially consisted of eight group members. Due to the nature of police work, some of the group members were unable to attend some of the scheduled group meetings. The group consisted of the commander, the captain, two inspectors, two officers from the domestic violence unit, the field training officer and myself. One group member left the police service as she had been offered a position in the private sector shortly after our first meeting. Some of the group meetings had to be cancelled at the last minute, due a lack of staff or time pressures at the station. Annual leave, sick leave and working hours also interfered with our group process. The eight members who were invited to participate by their client services manager agreed to be a part of the group, and signed a consent form after the first group conversation. All the names used in this study are fictitious in an attempt to protect the identities of the police officers, although their stories are related as closely as possible to the way in which they were told. 1.6.4 The individual and group conversations I listened respectfully to the officers' stories, asking meaning-making and experience- generating questions to deconstruct the dominant discourses, fixed ideas and normative truths that restricted them. The content and goals of each conversation varied, as we did not approach our meetings with pre-set agendas. All the group sessions and most of the individual conversations were followed up with a therapy letter, addressed to the participant(s). The letters were used as a way of expanding the conversation (Epston 1998:95) beyond the session. I used the letters to reflect and voice my questions and concerns and to ask more deconstructive questions. 1.6.5 Critical incident debriefing The client services manager became increasingly concerned about the level of 'stress' the officers were exposed to. He requested that I engage in a separate series of individual conversations with traumatised officers. Early during December 1999, an officer I had had the opportunity to meet, committed suicide. His death highlighted the gravity of the situation faced by police officers. Immediately following the officer's suicide, the client services manager asked me to intensify my therapeutic efforts by engaging in critical incident debriefing sessions with members who had been exposed to direct trauma. The critical incident debriefing introduced another dimension to the collage of police experience: stories of horror, shock, pain, loss, suffering, fear and anger joined those of stress and racism. This dimension of the officers' lived experience verified my ethical responsibility as therapist-researcher not to concentrate purely on the effects of secondary traumatic stress, while the officers were experiencing stress as a direct result of primary trauma following the of witnessing traumatic events in the line of duty. 1.7 CHAPTER OUTLINE Chapter Two introduces the reader to an outline of the epistemological, theological and philosophical views of the primary author of this study. Chapter Three is an overview of some of the voices in the literature reflecting on 'stress', vicarious victimisation and compassion fatigue and the effect of these problems on the police officers. It also illustrates the problem of stress as it currently exists in the SAPS. Chapter Four holds up the mirror of hope to a group of policemen and -women who participated in deconstructing racist and discriminatory discourses. Chapter Five offers reflections on the research process and recommendations for practical theology and pastoral therapy.
PARADIGMS, PRACTICES AND NARRATIVE PASTORAL THERAPY The system left forever a footprint on my soul (Perry 1997:29). 2.1 INTRODUCING PARADIGMS AND PRACTICES The socio-cultural context within which South Africans live and work has changed in very significant ways, demanding a fresh response from practitioners and researchers, including pastoral therapists. This obviously requires new theological reflection, as categories of interpretation are deeply influenced and informed by the culture in which they are practised (Brueggemann 1993:1). Changes in the larger social situation alter the shape of Christian communities and thereby alter the requirements for and modes of pastoral practice. Pastoral therapists need to be able to 'respond pastorally to the signs of the times' (Gerkin 1991:11). In this chapter, the broader theoretical context underpinning my research story is discussed. The theoretical underpinnings for this research are to be found in postmodern, pastoral therapy, narrative approaches, feminist and social construction discourses and emancipatory action research. The discourses and approaches suggested by theoretical contexts enabled research participants and me to explore new ways to respond to the challenges posed by our changing times. My research story focuses on co-constructing new realities for both policemen and -women in a changed and rapidly changing society. Theirs is a strenuous, dangerous, poorly paid and thankless profession. My personal and professional stories meet up with the police narrative, because I grew up with policemen my whole life, as well as having cared for many police officers in my capacity as a psychiatric nurse practitioner. As pastoral therapist, I often counsel traumatised police officers. It appears as if the government, psychology and psychiatry have failed to prevent the effects of the trauma members of the police are exposed to as a result of their work from destroying their lives. Their experiences of trauma affect them as individuals, their family and friends, their colleagues, and the community they serve. Epistemology is concerned with how people know what they know (Dill & Kotzé 1997:3). My epistemology of choice and my personal lived experience have significant implications for the research methodology and research results. In this chapter I make an attempt at declaring my own position and I am mindful that my position is open to interpretation by the reader. This chapter starts with a description of postmodern discourse, so as to create a context for social construction discourse, which informs a contextual approach to practical theology and a narrative approach to pastoral therapy as my approaches of choice. By using a contextual approach, I try to ensure that the impact of South African cultures on the process and results of this study are taken into account. 2.2 THINKING THROUGH THEORY 2.2.1 Postmodern discourse 'Whether we have entered the postmodern age is still a matter of heated conjecture. Nevertheless, it is hard to deny, or avoid, the influence that postmodern thought has had on almost every field of human practice' (Jennings & Graham 1996:165). However far western society has progressed towards a fully postmodern society, '…an aesthetic and intellectual movement called postmodernism has taken root in almost every academic discipline, transforming scholarly debate and the very way we think about thinking' (Doherty 1991:38). The shift from a modern to a postmodern culture is still in the making, but brings with it a new understanding of self and the world. Such a shift from a modern to a postmodern culture offers both challenges and opportunities to practical theologians, requiring new theological reflection as categories of interpretation are deeply influenced and informed by the culture in which they are practised (Brueggemann 1993:1). At the core of postmodernism lies its doubt that any theory, method, discourse or genre has a universal claim to truth or is a privileged form of authoritative knowledge (Richardson 1994:516). This implies that all truth claims are doubted equally, and suspected equally of masking and serving particular interests in local, cultural and political struggles (Richardson 1994:517). Postmodernism also does not privilege one methodology over another. A postmodern stance emerged from the modernist tradition of the early twentieth century, and represents a break with some of the most hallowed principles of modernism. Postmodernism emphasises diversity, scepticism, relativism and discourse (Doherty 1991:42), whereas modernism focused on an aesthetic of purity, clarity, order and analytical abstraction. Postmodernism tends towards elaboration, eclecticism, ornamentation and inclusiveness (Doherty 1991:40). Postmodernism provides new ways of accepting multiple representations of events. Postmodern writers are so deeply concerned about language and its meaning that they are wary of all-encompassing theories or meta-narratives that make universal truth claims, and rather look towards contextual and localised knowledges which are inclusive of diversity and respectful of the particular historical context and value systems concerned. The 'little stories' of the postmodern condition, through language, metaphor and discourse, can provide new ways of exposing meta-narratives (Jennings & Graham 1996:160). Like Efran, Lukens and Lukens (1988:28), I believe that to take something out of its context is to render it meaningless, and when it is put in another context, it means something completely different. I have become wary of all-encompassing theories or meta-narratives that make universal truth claims, and prefer rather to look towards contextual and localised knowledges which are inclusive of diversity and respectful of the particular historical context and value system of the individual(s) concerned. Postmodern theorists (Anderson & Goolishian 1988; Gergen 1985; Gergen & Kaye 1992; Hoffman 1992) view all knowledge and ideas as evolving through language and taking shape in the realm of the 'common world' and 'common dance' (Hoffman 1992:116). Instead of asking, 'What is truth?' one would then ask 'Whose truth?' (Hoffman 1992:150). 'All stories are valid though not necessarily true', according to Parry (1991:37-53). People exist in and through language (Anderson & Goolishian 1988:371). We bring forth reality by speaking, in language, as the crucible of change. A postmodern stance challenges the traditional modernist relationship between therapist and client, where the therapist is expected to cure or 'fix' the problem experienced by the client with expert knowledge (Anderson & Goolishian 1988:371). A postmodern therapist enters each therapeutic conversation with a 'not-knowing' approach, genuinely curious to discover the client's own knowledges. A postmodern therapist respects the client as the expert of his/her life story, and uses a primary focus 'people's expressions of their experiences of life' (White 2000:9). Gergen (1992:27) describes the role of the modern and postmodern researcher succinctly: Within the modernist era, the scientist was largely a polisher of mirrors. It was essentially his/her task to hold a well-honed mirror to nature. If others wished to use the results for their various pursuits that was their concern. Postmodernism asks the scientist to join the hurly-burly of cultural life &endash; to become an active participant in the construction of the culture. … Rather than 'telling it like it is', the challenge for the postmodern psychologist is to 'tell it as it may become.' For a generation of South Africans who have to make things work in a country rich with diversity and pluralism, but burdened with a legacy of guilt and shame for privilege on the one hand and liberation from oppression on the other hand, the practice of perspectivism seems to be one way in which this generation can perceive, process and describe the world they live in. 'A perspective has the power to make sense out of the rawness of experienced life, even though it cannot be "proven" or absolutely established' (Brueggemann 1993:10). Modernism, with its emphasis on objective, empirical, scientific and universal truth has led to far-reaching technological and scientific developments world-wide. However, it failed to deliver the 'good life' or to keep its promises, as that which seemed to be good has turned out to be enormously ambiguous in its fruit (Brueggemann 1993:1). Postmodernism tries to ensure a culturally safe and sensitive lens through which to gain knowledge of self and the world, without representing objective truths that are essentially imperialistic or instruments of social power. Knowledge is inherently contextual, local and pluralistic. I propose that the shift from an objective claim of hegemony to a contextual, local perspective accurately describes the current cultural and theological situation. Postmodernism denies the very possibility of the notion of truth. No grand narrative or meta-story can any longer claim dominance. Pluralism is the only alternative to objectivism, as pluralism does not silence all alternative and dissenting opinions by force or impose its view to silence others. 2.2.2 Social construction discourse Freedman and Combs (1996:16) describe the main premise of social construction discourse as follows: …the beliefs, values, institutions, customs, labels, laws, divisions of labour and the like that make up our social realities are constructed by the members of a culture as they interact with one another from generation to generation and day to day. That is, societies construct the 'lenses' through which their members interpret the world. The realities that each of us take for granted are the realities that our societies have surrounded us with since birth. These realities provide the beliefs, practices, words, and experiences from which we make up our lives, or, … 'constitute our selves'. Postmodernism is the cultural and intellectual background against which social construction discourse has developed. Social construction discourse informs my research narrative and my therapeutic practice. Social construction discourse challenges me always to be ever-suspicious of taken-for-granted assumptions and meta-narratives of how the world should be. In this way, it invites me to try to understand what the taken-for-granted-assumptions in the police service are, as well as the taken-for-granted grand narratives these officers live by in everyday life. The ways in which humans understand the world are historically and culturally constructed, implying that all ways of knowing have cultural and historical perspectives. Social construction theory explores the effects of these assumptions on the lives and experience of people. Police officers construct knowledge of their world through interaction with one another in language, exploring the ways of knowing that are particular to them. In their working and living contexts, their language as well as their diverse historical and cultural perspectives of life, police officers socially construct the meanings of their lives. Through human interaction, people construct the knowledge of the world they live in. Social interactions of any kind, but more particularly in the form of language, are practices during which realities are co-constructed. Truth is not regarded as a product of objective observation of the world, but as the current accepted ways of understanding the world, constructed by human interaction with other humans and with the world they live in. In a study such as this, it is therefore vital to respect the ways in which police officers construct their knowledges of the world they live in, the way in which they see 'truth' and how their social processes of language sustain these knowledges. Without taking into consideration their local, contextual and pluralistic knowledges, this study would not be able to honour their perspectives of their world. There are many social constructions of the world, each informing and inviting different actions from people. The social actions that are appropriate to the understanding of problems change over time, according to social constructions regarding those problems. These points of departure are in stark contrast to my previous learning, experience and ways of making sense of the world. My previous training as a psychiatric nurse was based on strict modernistic parameters, firmly embedded in the medical model of cause, effect and cure. Postmodern thought opened up new ways for me of being in my world, and had a similar impact on the ways in which I now prefer to conduct my practice. South Africans are not only struggling to come to terms with the widespread political, social and economic changes that have taken place since the 1994 election, but also seem to be in a process of questioning many of the norms and values that govern people's ordinary daily lives. I form part of the generation which has to make things work in this country. 2.3 THE PRACTICAL THEOLOGICAL DISCOURSE Rossouw (1993:895) suggests that the broader notion of rationality proposed by postmodern culture (as opposed to that espoused by modernism), its broader anthropology, its emphasis on the involvement of both expertise and experience in decision-making and, finally, the reduction of the world to a global village, are important dimensions that have an impact on theology. Heitink (1999:174) refers to a political-critical current of theology. This theological current defines its position from a political-critical perspective, which engages with 'those whom the gospel addresses emphatically: the poor and the persecuted' (Heitink 1999:175). Practising practical theology in the South African context is a challenge. I am of the opinion that representatives of all religious denominations should enter into a critical conversation about theological praxis. The South African context is rapidly changing and therefore it is necessary for practical theology to keep abreast of these changes if it wishes to remain relevant to the people it serves. I wondered how pastoral narrative therapy would contribute to sustaining, healing and challenging the officers from this police station. Practical theology studies people's religious actions (Heyns & Pieterse 1990:10), but also studies society in terms of its specific religious, spiritual and value commitments. Therefore, practical theology relates to the religious praxis of church and society. 'It develops practical theological theories that function in practice, evaluates these theories and, if necessary, evolves new theories for praxis' (Heyns & Pieterse 1990:10). Practical theology further associates itself with the application of biblical texts to modern society. However, this is a confessional approach. My preferred theological stance is a contextual approach, which considers society's political, economic, developmental, ecological and medical problems as its main focus. I conducted therapy-as-research in this urban SAPS station from a contextual theological position, as reflected by the aims of the study. I also considered this study as an initiative towards prophetic, transforming pastoral action: The moment for prophetic ministry response arises at the time of the recognition that human suffering and conflict have appeared. … Once heard, the cry of pain begins to transform the consciousness of the imaginative prophetic pastor. (Gerkin 1991:75-76) Social and religious actions are inherently political. The contextual approach creates space for social constructionist epistemological views. The incorporation of social constructionist discourse as epistemological background to this study made it possible to consider the broad context sufficiently to prevent serious reductionism and an attenuation of possibilities. It made possible the co-construction of communal knowledges, thereby empowering the police officers involved in a process of discovery of solutions to their problems. This located my pastorate within a social constructionist paradigm. Hence, the police officers and I joined our efforts as co-constructors and collaborators of a shared reality. I became a co-participant of their narrative; the police officers became co-authors of this research story. 2.3.1 Pastoral care I agree with Chittister (1999:8-9), who claims that religion is perhaps the slipperiest, the most diffuse, and the least defined of all endeavours: Commerce operates out of a profit motive, science out of wonder, the arts out of emotional expression, government out of a need for order, education out of the will to grow, voluntary organisations out of social responsibility, international organisations out of a need for global collaboration. But religion? All we really know of religion is that it functions on behalf of the will of God as it is determined by those who are not God. When that growth is understood to be the growth of all humankind, there is nothing more sublime. When that will is defined as the advantage of one part of humankind over another, there is little more disillusioning. (Chittister 1999:8-9) My own perspective is indebted to the Judeo-Christian tradition. The present postmodern moment challenges me as a pastoral therapist to adopt a new caregiver role. From a postmodern, narrative and feminist point of view, I am involved in a collaborative process with the client, in the case of this study, with police officers, to constitute the truth as experienced by them within their context and lived experience. This challenges me as a pastoral therapist to privilege the client's expertise and local knowledges above my own. This inclusive epistemology, with its dedication to the recognition of pluralism and diversity, invites me to view knowledge and truth as social constructions, constituted by the client who is seeking help. It has also encouraged me to respect and honour the different ways in which people interpret the meanings they attribute to their lives. The pluralism that has come upon Western culture invites a pluralism of values and, perhaps more significantly, a pluralism of languages for interpretation of what human life in the world is about. This means that the Christian language for interpreting the meaning of things, evaluating human actions and attitudes, and formulating human purposes is now only one language among many and no longer can claim consensual legitimisation. Furthermore, pluralism has now so penetrated every nook and cranny of Western social life that given individuals in the course of normal activities on a given day may be required to move from one social context…to another. (Gerkin 1986:14) Religion has played and still plays a key role in the oppression and liberation of marginalised groups in South Africa. It is an integral part of the South African story. Understanding the implications of religion for the continuing political exploitation of marginalised groups (such as women, people of colour, the poor and the homeless, and ethnic groups, amongst others), as well as its active participation in social movements or change, is imperative in any study set in the South African context, because it is essential to oppose the notion that 'slavery, [as] white people theologised, was God's will' (Chittister 1991:1): The problem for contemporary religion is that all of this theologising, fashioned on the basis of colour alone, took place … as a condition of political life in our times &endash; in 1948 &endash; just as the Western world was celebrating its liberation of Europe form Nazi oppression. It happened while, as equally religious people, the rest of the world stood by and watched. Just as great an irony is that the very people who were enslaved, denigrated and diminished here because of the colour of their skin say that it is religion that sustained them. On 16 and 17 November 1997, representatives of the South African faith communities gathered in East London before the Truth and Reconciliation Commission to confess their complicity in, and to ask the nation's forgiveness for their contribution to the perpetuation of apartheid's atrocities (Meiring 1999). Religious dogma had played a key role in legitimising the oppression of marginalised groups in South Africa. Ironically, religious beliefs and spirituality sustained many of the oppressed and played a role in their liberation. Religion sustained the oppressed at the same time it was used to provide biblical legitimacy to the actions of the oppressors. The narratives around religious beliefs appeared to form part of the problem-saturated story in South Africa, as it contributed to the oppression and marginalisation of millions of people for many years. On the other hand, it also offered choices for alternative stories as it sustained the oppressed and fuelled resistance movements that contributed to the liberation of the oppressed. For many people, their spiritual self-talk is significant in shaping their reactions to their experiences and the meanings they attribute to life events (Andrews & Kotzé 2000:329). Therapies that recognise the value of spirituality, religious values and the effects religious beliefs have on people's stories about themselves, invite spirituality back into the therapeutic realm. Furthermore, when people come for therapy, and they are invited to explore their spiritual stories to 'find alternative spiritual talk' (Andrews & Kotzé 2000:330), they could discover new spiritual meanings and understanding of their experiences. Carlson and Erikson (2000:65) are of the opinion that the shift towards social constructionist therapies may be opening the door to include spiritual and religious issues in therapy. Spirituality has remained an unexplored part of the therapy process for a long time (Carlson & Erikson 2000:66), particularly because Freud proclaimed religion and thus spirituality as part of mental pathology (Andrews & Kotzé 2000:330). However, a growing appreciation of the importance of spirituality emerged when social construction theory entered the therapeutic domain: We do not believe that these two movements in the field at the same time are merely coincidence. Perhaps the questioning of 'Truth' and the encouragement of a multiplicity of voices, which social constructionism encourages, has opened up space for previously marginalised voices to gain legitimacy in the field. (Carlson & Erikson 2000:66) A Catholic theologian, Greimacher (in Heitink 1999:174), refers to practical theology as the 'critical theory of a religiously mediated praxis in society'. A narrative approach to pastoral therapy offers very helpful ways for therapists to respectfully enter the spiritual stories of their clients. 2.4 A NARRATIVE APPROACH TO PASTORAL THERAPY Narrative [pastoral] therapy seeks to be a respectful, non-blaming approach to counselling and community work, which centres people as the experts in their own lives. It views problems as separate from people and assumes people have many skills, competencies, beliefs, values, commitments and abilities that will assist them to reduce the influence of problems in their lives. (Morgan 2000:2) 'People are born into stories; their social and historical contexts constantly invite them to tell and remember the stories of certain events and to leave others un-storied' (Freedman & Combs 1996:42). The narrative approach embodies the rediscovery of the value of human participation and the ability people have to become co-researchers in finding answers for the questions in their lives. Furthermore, the narrative approach also promotes helpful solutions in the form of responsible actions (Jenkins [1990] 1997:58), as a therapeutic strategy can be devised around the concept of responsibility. Narrative therapists understand that lives are lived through stories; therapy has been described as 're-authoring' or 're-storying' practices. For narrative therapists, stories consist of events, linked in sequence, across time, according to a plot (Morgan 2000:5). Human beings attribute meaning to the stories of their lives and relationships. This meaning forms the plot of the narrative. 'The narrative is like a thread that weaves the events together, forming a story' (Morgan 2000:5). People's lives are multi-storied, implying that there are many stories occurring at the same time. Different stories can also be told about the same event. Ambiguity and contradiction are present in every story. There are stories about the past, the present and the future that belong to individuals, relationships, families, groups and communities. Events, as they occur, are interpreted according to the dominant story at the time. Stories are set against the broader social context by which people live their lives. Dominant stories affect people in the present moment, but also influence how they think about themselves and behave in future. Dominant stories do not exist alone, due to the multi-storied nature of human lives. Alternative stories of success, hope, and achievement always exist, but are frequently overshadowed by personal, professional, family and contextual discourses that are constitutive of human lives. At a recent Pretoria workshop on narrative therapy, Weingarten (2000b) offered the following description of discourse: Discourse: a historically, socially, and institutionally specific structure of statements, terms, categories, and beliefs that are embedded in relationships, texts, and institutions. The mechanisms of influence are often invisible. Discourse is a product of social factors rather than an individual's set of ideas. Any discourse reflects and constructs a specific worldview. There are dominant and subjugated discourses. Dominant discourses appear natural. That which is not part of the discourse shapes our experience as critically as the discourse itself. I became interested in conversations that seek out the subjugated discourses or alternative stories by which police officers would prefer to live their lives. For example, some of the members of the SAPS would like to live their lives as respected members of the community, working at a noble task. The dominant story of oppression and brutality in police practice inherited from the SAP restrains them in achieving this goal or living out this life. This 'thin description' (Morgan 2000:12) of policing supports and sustains remnants of abusive practices. Discovering the alternative story of how they would prefer to act and be perceived by themselves, one another and the community could reduce the problem story's influence and invite new possibilities and responsibilities for living. Narrative therapists are interested in working with people to bring forth and thicken stories that do not support or sustain problems. As people begin to inhabit and live out the alternative stories, the results are beyond solving problems. Within the new stories, people live out new self images, new possibilities for relationships and new futures. (Freedman & Combs 1996:16) The attention to the network of related events, the inter-relatedness of different stories of a person's life and the patterns woven by seemingly independent events form part of the narrative approach to pastoral therapy. It embodies the rediscovery of the value of human participation through the deconstruction of problem narratives and the opportunity for people to collaborate as co-authors in finding answers for the questions in their lives. 2.4.1 Externalising problems Narrative therapists are interested in ways to discover, acknowledge and deconstruct the beliefs, ideas and practices of the broader culture a person lives in, maintaining and strengthening problem discourses. Externalising the question is one of the ways in which problems can be separated from people and situated in the broader cultural context of lived experience. If you are the problem, or if your relationship is the problem, then there's not much that you can do &endash; except maybe to act against yourself. Externalizing conversations challenge much of this. They make it possible for persons to experience an identity that is distinct or separate from the problem. (White 1995:23) In narrative approaches to therapy, the problem becomes the problem; the person is not seen as the problem. One of the first things that a narrative therapist is interested in doing is to separate the person's identity from the problem (Morgan 2000:17). This means that the therapist and the client speak about the problem in ways that situate the problem outside the person, based on the premise that problems are external and not part of the person's identity. Externalising practices (White & Epston 1999; White 1991; White 1995; Freedman & Combs 1996; Morgan 2000) liberate therapists and clients to join against problems, simultaneously discouraging blaming practices which restrain understanding and healing. Externalising the problem makes it possible for clients to revise their relationships with the problems in their lives and relationships. Externalising conversations with police officers positioned the officers differently in relation to their problems, by construing problems as external rather than internal. Externalising conversations helped them to make choices against oppressive discourses and abusive practices (see Chapters Three and Four). Epston (1998:51) suggests that the process of externalisation empowers people to become 'agents' instead of 'patients': They do not appear dulled or stupefied as patients often do; rather, they are creative, enlivened, enthusiastic, and can call upon problem-solving capabilities that are surprising even to them. (Epston 1998:51) The officers accepted and enjoyed externalising their problems during our group and individual work because they said it enabled them to name their problems (see Chapters Three and Four). One officer described it as a 'liberating experience', and the rest of the group agreed with him. An externalising discourse positioned them as protagonists of their own life stories, encouraging them to speak about their problems, and accepting responsibility for their past disrespectful actions. It also enabled them to admit to the ways in which racism blinded them, thereby breaking the silence that surrounded sensitive problems (see Chapter Four). Breaking this silence challenged the discursive barriers that trapped some of these officers, and liberated them to enter into changed relationships with the problems they were facing. The idea of externalising internalised discourses provides for a more adequate description of what this work is all about. … [I]t introduces a different way of speaking about, and a different way of thinking about, that which is problematic &endash; and of course, a different way of acting in relation to that which is problematic. (White 1995:41) All problems can be externalised, their histories can be mapped and their strategies can be exposed. Procrastination, fear, anger, sexism, racism and stress are some examples of problems that were externalised during the therapy-as-research process with police officers. 2.4.2 Using questions to undo problem stories Narrative therapy is interested in discovering subjugated, alternative stories that do not fit with the dominant problem-saturated story, and assumes that a problem can never be completely successful in claiming a person's life (Morgan 2000:58). In this study, the exceptions to the problem story are referred to as steps of resistance, 'unique outcomes' or 'sparkling moments' (Morgan 2000:58). In order to explore steps of resistance further, to trace the history of the alternative story and to link steps of resistance in some way with a story outside the problem story, the therapist asks questions that explore the landscape of action' : Once the client and therapist are engaged in re-discovering the landscape of action, the use of landscape of identity questions can help clients to explore the meaning of those steps of resistance to the problem story's account of their lives. These questions are woven back and forth in the creation of a new, preferred 'anti-problem' (Morgan 2000:59) story. Working towards the creation of a richer and more thickly described alternative story, it is often helpful for the therapist and the client to review the client's personal skills, commitments and values through re-membering through the eyes of a third person. These questions guide the therapy towards the development of a thicker and richer description of an alternative story the person can privilege and stay connected to. Relative influence questions (see Chapter Five, Section 5.4.1) are helpful in tracing the history of the problem over time and quantifying its effect in visible terms.
2.4.3 Sensitivity to the role of gender I became aware of gendered issues and the patriarchal perpetuation of a system of male-dominated values at the expense of policewomen early on in the course of my studies. In the police service, men and women are expected to perform the same duties. Despite the sub-cultural prescriptions specific to the police service, policewomen are still constructed in certain roles based on their physiological make-up, thereby assigning them roles that are synonymous with feminine identity. Policework highlights the physiological differences between men and women. According to Middleton (1992:181), patriarchal discourse assigns specific gender-based roles to men and women: In our culture, girls are raised from very early age to be aware of, and take care of, the emotional business of life. Boys come to experience emotional nurturing as an unquestioned part of life, without even recognising that it is there.
According to the policewomen working at this police station, they are generally regarded as the caregivers of choice when sensitive work has to be done, for example, counselling a rape victim or sexually abused child. Policemen choose to perform the more masculine tasks, for example, the apprehension of criminals, shift command, and management. As a result of the practices of power of patriarchal discourse, male and female identities are constituted by different social and professional expectations, with differing qualities and characteristics ascribed to these constructions. These socially constructed identities can result not only in discriminatory practices, but also in conflicting expectations: Men are seen as being above emotions, and it is considered that they should be above emotions. Emotions in many ways have been written out of men's life in much of the philosophy of Western culture. (Smith 1996:31) Yet, policewomen told me that they are expected to adhere to the prescriptions of male culture. During reflexive conversations, we deconstructed patriarchal discourse and the effects it had on the lives of policewomen, in an attempt to address gender inequalities. The research study became a way in which we could participate in a process of making the world 'more human and hence more just' (Keane 1998:121). During this study we questioned the status quo in our attempts at improving police practices, thus following an emancipatory action research approach (see below). In addition to the qualitative methods I used to collect stories and assist policemen and -women in the re-authoring of their life stories, the study is upheld by feminist values, using the definition provided by Millen (1997:11): To this end, for me, any research may be considered 'feminist' which incorporates two main aims; a sensitivity to the role of gender within society and the differential experiences of males and females, and a critical approach to the tools of research on society, the structures of methodology and epistemology within which 'knowledge' is placed within the public domain. 2.5 EMANCIPATORY ACTION RESEARCH Emancipatory action research firstly implies that I am not only part of this research as researcher and the primary author of this text, but also as narrative pastoral therapist. My position was one of 'researcher-therapist' or 'therapist-researcher'. Briefly, my understanding of emancipatory action research is that it is collaborative, critical and self-critical inquiry by practitioners … into a major problem or issue or concern in their own practice. They own the problem and feel responsible and accountable for solving it. (Zuber-Skerritt 1996:3) Emancipatory action research is therefore not just a critical tool for examining epistemology and praxis: In such a view, one treats the others involved in the setting as co-participants who, through their particip |