Rolling with ‘The Mice’

So there I am, sitting at my kitchen table, shooting the shit during Frosh Week with my new housemates. It’s about 2 a.m., and I’m ready to call it quits.

I let them know I’m going for a ride-along in a University of Toronto police cruiser the following afternoon, and that I’d like to have two or three wits about me if possible. The peanut gallery chimes in.

“What, you mean The Mice? What’re you going to do that for? They’re not even real cops.”

“Hey, remember—even a security guard’s gun can shoot.”

“Do they even carry guns?”

On patrol for…danger?

Flash forward about 11 hours. I’m outside, the sky is bright, and I’m looking at one of the most uncomfortable backseats I’ve ever seen. There’s not much in here but plastic, and plenty of room to roll around. I’m standing outside a cruiser belonging to the oldest police force in Toronto, and I’m about to take a ride.

Thankfully, this is my first time inside a police car, and it’s on good terms. I shake hands with Community Policing Liaison Officer Leo Viveiros, and hop in for the ride. The first thing that strikes me about his appearance is his bullet-proof jacket. I’m assured it’s not standard gear.

Before my ride, I signed some forms in the UTP’s new offices, conveniently located at 380 Huron St., one floor below The Varsity’s offices. One of them stipulates, a bit to my chagrin, that no photographs or sound recordings may be taken along the ride. At least we can take some pictures of the pretty office space.

And pretty it is, as well as functional, and more professional, according to Officer Viveiros. Compared with the previous offices, located in a house just north of Spadina Crescent, the new digs are well-appreciated.

“I’m extremely happy with the move. It’s more professional. We have good facilities, with one side for operations and another for management. It’s also wheelchair accessible.”

Accessibility turns into one of the recurring themes I encounter with the UTP. As we round Huron on to Harbord, Officer Viveiros expounds the basic University Police philosophy. It’s very customer service-oriented, he says, echoing his superior, Staff Sergeant Sam D’Angelo. Proactive initiatives, rather than just reactive policing, are what’s stressed in the UTP’s community policing mission. From the dozens of outreach programs liaison officers participate in to follow-up services and consultations with university and academic staff, the UTP strive to be an integrated part of campus life, rather than just security professionals.

As we turn down St. George and head south to Dundas, though, Officer Viveiros lets me know that I may not get to see much reactive policing today. We’re patrolling campus areas between Bloor and Dundas, from Spadina to Bay. If we don’t see anything that needs taking care of, or get any calls on the radio, it might not seem like much is going on. So far, things look relatively quiet, but it’s Frosh Week, and today SAC has blocked most of King’s College Circle and Front Campus for the SAC Oasis. A new school year, a bunch of fresh students, and a whole lot of obstructed streets: something’ll probably happen.

We pull up past the barricades just east of Convocation Hall, where a group of other officers are on duty. We’re introduced, and I can’t help but be struck by the friendly and polite atmosphere. I’m also impressed by the number of multilingual officers. Viveiros, in addition to English, also speaks Portuguese. Another officer says he can speak “English, and bad English.” One officer, Susie Guadagnano, is relatively new to U of T (and fluent in Italian). When asked about the UTP’s recruiting policies, she’s very forthcoming.

“It’s long. There are a lot of phases, interviews, background checks, different sorts of tests. Physical and psychological evaluations.”

Psych evaluations? She rolls her eyes.

“Yeah. 567 questions, multiple choice. It’s long. Lots of questions about how you get along with your family, that kind of thing.” Interesting. I suppose it was this sort of rigour Sergeant D’Angelo was referring to when he remarked that some describe the UTP’s recruitment policy as tougher than that of the Toronto Police.

Officer! What happened to your big gun?

The comparisons to Toronto Police don’t end there. Metro Police earn 15-20 per cent more than their UTP counterparts, but the jobs are different. UTP do not carry guns, and are, in the words of Sgt. D’Angelo, “stakeholders in the community. We look for a person with a brain to mediate, negotiate and de-escalate a situation rather than physically engaging it.

“We lose the majority of candidates after the physical and written parts of the evaluation. For example, from our last group of 200, we hired 9 candidates. Our standards are high for a reason. We want an officer who’s respectful to all in the university community.”

Officer Viveiros pulls the cruiser away from the street blockades and recently assembled soundstage, and the radio crackles to life. The office has received calls about excess noise in the Harbord and St. George–Spadina area. Officer Viveiros is going to check it out, but since the noise bylaws don’t kick in until 11 p.m., there may not be much he can do.

Along the way, Officer Viveiros recounts his most frightening day on the job. He was patrolling the area near Bloor and Huron, and a Toronto Police Officer called him over for assistance with a jumper at the Senator David A. Croll apartments. She was sitting on the ledge. Viveiros helped keep the sidewalk clear while help was in transit. The incident ended without loss of life, but left a lasting impression on him.

Then things really started to get ugly…

1:33 p.m. We encounter the Frosh parade just outside Robarts on St. George. Officer Viveiros looks at me before he picks up the radio. “I think we’ve found our noise complaint.”

Toronto Police are already on scene, and the parade organizers have a permit, so there’s nothing for us to do. We drive away from the last call of the hour, and fill the rest of our time chasing ghost stories about Hart House and plying other officers for information about an ancient axe murder at UC.

Along the way, I ask Officer Viveiros about his best day at work. Again touching on the customer-service theme, he warns me that it might sound corny, but his best day is one during which he helps a student out.

“For example, once I was approached by a student around King’s College Circle. He was looking for his car, worried that it was stolen. So I went the extra mile. Drove him around and helped him out. We found his car at Hart House. That’s the kind of thing that really makes my day.”

What about things that really don’t make a great day? After three quarters of an hour of getting to know this officer, I figure it’s time to inquire on behalf of some of my less respectful housemates: How exactly do the UTP handle it when people make fun of them, or accuse them of not being “real cops”?

“I smile and wave. I’m not gonna change anything by giving them attitude and trying to straighten them out. We are police, not security. I get out, talk to them, let ’em know who we are and what we do. And usually, by the end of it, they’re pretty understanding. They don’t really expect that. People give you a hard time sometimes, sure, but you can’t work here for years and let that bug you.”

With that, we return to the station (and The Varsity), and shake hands as I re-emerge, blinking a little less intensely than an hour ago, into the sun. In all, it’s been a typical daylight hour in area 5205 (as it’s identified by Toronto Police), one of the safest places in downtown Toronto. As I cast a last glance at that forbidding looking backseat, I recall again that the UTP don’t carry guns.

Still, I wouldn’t want to mess with them. They’re really nice people. Plus, they know my dean of students.

Photograph by Simon Turnbull