Out of the Shadows
In an exclusive interview with ‘MidWeek’, Joanne Takasato reveals the dark and dangerous facts of life on the streets as an HPD undercover police officer
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Takasato’s now legendary place in HPD history, despite its mysterious tracks, was pacesetting in a number of ways.
As the 55-year-old retired detective, now an insurance investigator, tells it, “In 1975, gender discrimination barring women from entering the Honolulu Police Department as sworn police officers had finally been destroyed. Doors were opened for the first time, allowing females to enter what was previously considered a career exclusively for men.
“By 1979, the minimum height requirement of 5-foot-8 had been eliminated. It was outrageous that a 5-foot Asian female weighing only 105 pounds would even consider doing what a ‘real’ policeman could. But I took the police entrance exam in spite of the ridicule.”
She adds, “Many male police officers verbalized their offense at the intrusion of unwanted females into their profession. New badge numbers and badges were reissued to say ‘Police Officer’ instead of ‘Policeman.’”
Yet, the author professes, “I did not write this book to be judged a hero or to be an advocate for Asian females or women’s rights. The work chronicles my search to find the essence of truth and honor during my undercover assignment in the field of justice.”
How did she recall such detail over the course of time?
“I kept a journal to document my difficulties and turmoil in hopes I would one day understand what had happened to me, and help myself and other undercover officers to survive and overcome the extreme distress and alienation of the assignment,” she responds.
Takasato’s story is told in both narrative and poetic verses - a cathartic expression of Takasato’s soul during periods of profound emotion and pain.
In retrospect, she realizes that her spiritual nature gave her an ability to cope with the loneliness, disappointments and cruelty she faced. She had no gun, but she was protected by personal values.
“I got my values from the teachings of my parents (Jean and Roland Takasato Sr.). They handed down life lessons learned from their parents regarding perseverance through difficulty and seeing the goodness in all people,” Takasato says.
The UC detective did not discuss her job with family members. It was her way of protecting them from undue stress and worry.Yet her parents knew something had changed - the nice university student was now staying out all night, hanging out in bars.
Years later, when she finally did tell them, her mother was very angry. Parental protection is an instinctive reaction, she admits.
Takasato let her family members including daughter Michele, a UH pre-med student, read the manuscript before it was published. Their permission to go public was crucial.
Her siblings include an older sister, Faith, a legal secretary, and younger brother, Roland Jr., an HPD detective. Another sister, Cheryl, died in 2002.
“If I had quit at the wrong time or made the wrong decisions along the way, people would have thought I was an informant, and I would have been killed,” Takasato says. “My family would have been put in danger.
“So I chose to deal with my secret life on my own, never involving family or friends. My journal was my best friend, and I turned to spiritual guidance, praying every day. It kept me alive.”
Takasato was the first female officer to earn the Hawaii State Law Enforcement Officers Outstanding Officer Award and the first female to receive the Veterans of Foreign Wars Loyalty Award. Over the course of her 27 years of service, she received 10 awards and 82 commendations for exemplary performance of duties.
She also was the first UC to take down a seasoned officer on criminal charges.
These are courageous acts for an individual who was persona non grata for most of her career. At times, she was not formally on the HPD payroll (being paid from a slush fund), and was wiped out of the department systems in an inexplicable sweep of personnel records. It caused her all sorts of anguish and problems later when she tried to collect retirement and other benefits.
To meet Takasato today defies the “tough guy” image one associates with crime fighting. She is soft-spoken, has an unflinching, poised demeanor and moves like a stealth force. She shuns the spotlight and hesitates being photographed.
“That anxiety of being immediately recognized on the street has never left,” she explains. “I have a few permanent scars from wounds that have healed but have affected my life.”
Yet she realizes she has a gift to give to individuals inspired by her story, and to the sustainability of high standards in undercover investigations. Thanks to her trail blazing and the leadership of others in the training and psychological support of undercover agents, new ground has been established in the profession.
We are reminded that if as private citizens we could be more responsible and accountable for our actions in life, fewer police would be needed. If we cultivate the right values in children so they make the right decisions when faced with temptations, such as drugs or alcohol, fewer laws would be broken. It is irresponsible citizen actions that fuel the unsavory profession of undercover work.
As for Takasato, who even today doubts her true identity, saying, “I don’t know who I am,” colleagues offer a simple response. “She’s an inspiration.”
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