As my wife and I dropped our oldest daughter off at college, a troubling thought crossed my mind: What if our daughter were to experience the unthinkable—what 25% of college women endure—sexual assault? Would I confidently tell her to go to the nearest police station? Devastatingly, my answer is no.
This question, one that no parent should ever have to ask themselves, struck me not just as a father but also as a law enforcement professional with over two and a half decades of experience. I’ve devoted much of my career to investigating sexual assaults and training officers on trauma-informed responses. But as I reflect on the system and the culture within police departments, I cannot say with confidence that my daughter would receive the care, empathy, and justice she deserves from law enforcement. And it’s not because officers don’t care. It’s because they are, for the most part, untrained and unprepared for these types of cases.
As someone who stumbled into this line of work and now trains internationally on trauma-informed responses and investigations, I can confidently say that our proud profession is woefully behind in this area. I can also say, without hesitation, that this is not the fault of the officers on the ground, who overwhelmingly go to work every day doing the very best they can. The issue lies at the feet of law enforcement leadership and systemic failures in training.
The Roots of the Problem
Police recruits who survive the rigors of background investigations are generally cut from the same cloth. They have a deep sense of service, a strong moral compass, little to no criminality or malfeasance as young people, and they generally come from stable homes. So, the idea of sexual assault, child abuse, or any form of intimate partner violence (IPV) is foreign to most of us. This lack of personal experience or understanding of the dynamics of sexual violence is not a fault, but it becomes a significant barrier when these recruits are thrust into situations that demand compassion, knowledge, and nuance.
I have my own baggage from my childhood, but the concept of sex and violence together was completely alien to me as a 21-year-old rookie cop in Atlanta, GA. Staying with someone after they rape you? Not punching someone after they grope you? Freezing during a sexual assault? Incomprehensible.
This disconnect between officers’ understanding of sexual violence and the reality victims face often leads to mishandling of cases. It’s not a matter of ill-intent, but rather a lack of preparation. And when officers are unprepared, they respond poorly—sometimes devastatingly so.
A Personal Failure
I recall a horrible reaction (one of many, unfortunately) to my first sexual assault disclosure, near the end of my field training with the Atlanta Police Department in 1998. I was directing traffic at an accident scene in Buckhead. My field training officer (FTO) was in our patrol car doing paperwork when a young man (probably 18 or 19) approached me. He was disheveled and looked like he had been up all night. He told me he thought he had been drugged and raped the night before.
I asked him why he thought that, and he explained that he woke up that morning bleeding from his rectum and felt residual lubricant on his body. Instead of honoring this young man for having the courage to tell me about the assault, instead of finding a private place to talk to him, or getting him medical attention, or connecting him to an advocate, I did what I believe many officers do when they don’t know what to do—I put my insecurity and stress back on the survivor. I broke eye contact, marginalized him, made him feel like garbage, and told him to go back to his apartment and call an ambulance. What was I thinking?
Had that young man asked me about handling a traffic ticket, had he provided information on narcotic trafficking, or even needed an accident report, I was armed with the knowledge of what to do. Regrettably, I completely failed him, and I am sorry beyond words. This experience has haunted me for years, not because I intended to cause harm, but because I simply didn’t know how to respond. And I know that my failure is not an isolated incident; countless officers across the country have faced similar situations and failed survivors in the same way, not out of malice, but because they lacked the proper training.
Fast Forward: Learning and Growth
Fast-forward four years and another law enforcement academy as I returned home to New York State. It was a rigorous, intense six-month program filled with training on topics like radar, breath tests, and commercial vehicles. But receiving a sexual assault disclosure? That was not part of the curriculum. I continued to excel as a Trooper with the New York State Police until my promotion to Investigator.
It wasn’t until much later in my career, after becoming a forensic interviewer and receiving additional training while working in the Campus Sexual Assault Victims Unit, that I learned how to properly receive and investigate disclosures of sexual assault, stalking, and IPV. It was then that I truly began to understand the gravity of my role in these cases and the importance of trauma-informed responses.
The transformation in how I approached sexual assault cases didn’t come from within—it came from external forces. I had the privilege of being trained by experts in trauma, victim advocacy, and forensic interviewing. But here’s the problem: that kind of training should be standard for every officer, not a luxury for a select few who happen to be promoted to certain units or roles
Steps Toward Change
I truly believe that the following steps, if taken by police agencies, could substantially mitigate this nationwide problem:
- Implement trauma-informed training for police recruits near the end of the academy. This should be one of the last modules they receive before hitting the streets. Sexual assault disclosures are unlike any other report officers take. Training should emphasize empathy, patience, and the importance of building trust with victims. Additionally, officers should be trained to recognize signs of trauma and understand how trauma impacts memory and behavior.
- Provide in-service training that teaches up-to-date best practices around sexual assault. This should include how to receive disclosures, the role of sexual assault advocates, the importance of forensic exams, and safety planning for survivors. In-service training needs to be more than a checkbox exercise—it should be regular, ongoing, and treated with the same seriousness as any tactical training.
- Ensure that training for detectives and investigators includes trauma-informed investigations and how to handle historical sexual assault cases. Statutes of limitations on sexual assaults have changed dramatically across the country, but training on how to handle these cases is scarce. Detectives must learn how to work cases where the assault happened years, even decades, earlier and understand how trauma affects delayed disclosures.
- Commit to ensuring middle managers and leaders closely monitor sexual assault cases. Leaders should prioritize trauma-informed approaches within their departments to set a positive tone for all officers. Leadership plays a critical role in establishing the culture within a department. If the command staff doesn’t prioritize sexual assault cases or support a trauma-informed approach, the officers won’t either.
A Path Forward
I’m proud to say that many police academies, including my alma mater, the New York State Police, have embraced this approach. They invite me to train recruits and detectives on trauma-informed policing. Additionally, agencies like New York's Division of Criminal Justice Services have invested in this training, providing me the opportunity to teach across our great state.
We have a solid foundation—most officers want to do right by victims of sexual assault; they just don’t know what to expect or how to respond appropriately. When I see a police department with a robust trauma-informed response to sexual assault, child abuse, and IPV, I see an excellent department. These departments aren’t just reducing harm to survivors—they’re fostering a culture of trust between the police and the communities they serve.
In closing, to police executives: I love this profession profoundly, but we are failing in this area. It is entirely fixable. Don’t wait for bad press—train your officers now. Our children, our sisters, our friends, and our neighbors are counting on you.
