Failure as an Evolution to Success

I believe that in people driven to be successful, failure is part of that evolution towards success. For people who are not driven, failure too often becomes the reason to quit. But with each failure we ultimately get closer to the solution, if we let ourselves fall forward. The following story is from Chapter Two, Owning Your Path, and explores this lesson.

During my tenure in homicide, I have become keenly aware of just how colorful peoples’ lives are through years of investigating murders. What people kept hidden or not well-known while they were alive, the skeletons in their closet, often come to light during the investigation into their deaths.

Not all of these skeletons are ominous, but we pay attention to them during murder investigations as we work towards identifying the person responsible for their death. Moving through this process inevitably leads to the identification, and subsequent elimination, of persons of interest. This cycle of try/fail can be frustrating in the pursuit of the person responsible, but eliminating people of interest is simply the evolution of an investigation moving forward; from “failure” as people are cleared, to success when the perpetrator is identified and found.

A half dozen years ago I was called out on a Wednesday morning after a young man had been found dead in a parking lot of a strip mall in a residential area on the south side of town. In the investigation that followed, we learned a lot about this victim and his life. First, he was a "low risk" victim, a simple man who lived with his parents, had several adult siblings, no girlfriend and no criminal history with the police. However, he had an entrepreneurial spirit and although not a lawyer, he provided legal advice to people who were navigating the legal system and suing others. In some of the cases he took on, the associates he was working with had colourful and sometimes shady backgrounds.

photo credit S. Graham

When we examined the scene, there were several nuances that suggested robbery could have been a motive. While canvasing the neighbourhood, information was learned that suggested other dark possibilities. Nearby residents known for criminal activity lived close to the crime scene. Time-lining the victim’s last known movements highlighted he had been at a bar earlier in the evening where he had met with several different women.

Early in the investigation we had a lot of information, a lot of leads to follow and eighteen persons of interest to be either eliminated or focused on more closely. We began the process of systematically investigating each. The list eventually dwindled down to two, the two known criminals. This may seem like a lot of work, and it is, but almost every case requires it. But through this process, the case against the two individuals indirectly became stronger every time one of the other eighteen were eliminated through alibis and forensics.

It was through that process of “failure,” eliminating sixteen of the original eighteen persons of interest, that the evolution of success could happen. In my view, we should look at failure as simply a stepping stone or prelude on our path to the outcomes we strive for.

Thanks for checking back. Look for another post next week.

Dave

"Lessons from Dad"

A year ago I was sitting around a pool in Palm Springs, California, watching my kids play and reflecting on life. They have always had a lot of questions about my job. This career has always provided opportunities for me to reflect both on my own success and family, and to realize how lucky we are. So many go through tragedy, strife, and any number of unfortunate circumstances. My kids live in a world where they are provided the things they need, and a lot of the things they want. I wished to share with them and in some part teach them the understanding of what others go through, as well as the lessons many of these situations have taught me. I considered writing a book that talked about these things, lessons from Dad that they could go to as they grow older.

I began the process of outlining ideas:
"staying out of dark places keeps you safe,"
"just because you can do something doesn't mean you should,"
"not everyone lives behind white picket fences,"
"always leave people in a better place then you found them."

These became the building blocks of what has now become the draft manuscript for Unconventional Classroom. As this book has come into focus, additional themes and content have been added: practical lessons pertaining to ethical decision making models, selling life sentences, the power of social influences, project management, and leadership to name a few.

Now a year later, I am pleasantly surprised how far the book has come. With the help of co-authour Sarah Graham, who I am grateful for and required to help me temper the realities of writing real life, I have found myself cathartically reflecting back over my eighteen plus years and have come to realize that damn, I have learned a lot.

We have almost finished writing this book that I believe represents the many facets and lessons living a career in policing teaches. I also hope we have written a book that my peers, my Service and I will be proud of, and that also captures a different side to what people may think "cops" actually are.

I look forward to the book’s completion, recognizing it is definitely a balancing act to find time to do so. Once it is finally finished and out, I hope it will be a launch pad for other opportunities such as public speaking, and who knows, maybe even a sequel.

But first, we must finish. So it's back to writing and editing those finishing touches. Thanks for checking in.

Dave

Mentors can be as Unexpected as their Lessons are Wise

It has been cool to witness how Dave and I navigate our way through this project. Besides the typical project planning and tasks, there is the added dynamic of our differing world views, default approaches, different triggers and buttons, et cetera. But our surficial differences have been amusing instead of alarming, helpful instead of hindering, and have generated insights and built solid, real ground that we share these positive universal messages on. The following story from Chapter One shares another example of Dave working with someone different than himself and how sometimes our mentors can be as unexpected as their lessons are wise.

"Mentors can be as unexpected as they are wise."

When I was still a young officer, full of way too much piss and vinegar, I got saddled with an “old school” veteran cop. Looking back, I appreciate the value in these pairings. But at the time I wanted a younger officer, someone who would be more run and gun, more action, more fun. Like me. The old guy was cramping my inexperienced, thrill-seeking style. One shift we attended a break and enter complaint together and I hate to say it, but these can be relatively routine. As I went through the house with the traumatized homeowner, notebook in hand and ticking off each by-the-book task, I wondered if we would get a chance to get to a "real" call, something with action, a chase, something bigger. As I was wrapping up to go my partner stopped in the front living room with the victim and spent the next ten agonizing minutes talking to her about the people in the various pictures hanging on her walls and grouped nicely on her fireplace and I wondered what was going on. They talked about her children, her grandchildren, her family. As I stood there tapping my feet to go, a new call came in; other police officers were following a stolen car as my partner continued to politely ask the victim more questions about the people in her photos. More units booked into this new complaint, clearly there was a bad guy to catch, maybe even a foot chase to be had. I silently lamented about the partner I had been saddled with and how much more fun I would be having joining other teammates in this new, exciting and unfolding scene. At first I subtly nudged my partner that we should go, thinking he must have missed the initial transmissions over the radio. Why else would he be stalling? He completely ignored me and continued his conversation with the home owner who was now smiling and caught up in her own stories of her different loved ones. As they continued to talk, I not-so-discreetly began packing up my gear. Then I headed towards the door. Maybe now is a convenient time to mention I don't do subtle particularly well. I quickly said goodbye and made my way out the front door thinking he would follow behind. 

Nope. 

Now I was at the car, still waiting and listening intently as the other call ratcheted higher. Units involved in the stolen car were drawing up their tactics over the radio on how best to safely stop the vehicle and bring the offender into custody. Then it happened. Units behind the stolen car had activated their lights . . . there was a chase . . . the vehicle did not stop . . . now the helicopter was in the action?! I was a million miles away from the action and my partner was still inside the house, missing it all. The radio squawked again. The helicopter spotter called the driver out of the vehicle, he ran for it and the ground units swooped. Minutes later, I heard, "one in custody." 

Ugh. I missed being part of the best call of the shift. As I sat there feeling sorry for myself, my partner finally emerged from the house. He got into the car and began to drive away. It would be the first of many times I was firmly put in my place. With a snap in his tone, he delivered one of the greatest lessons of my career: "When we go to calls, we leave people in a better place then we found them. Got it? We take the time, we talk to people and allow them to reflect on the things in their life to be thankful for, like family or friends. We do what we can to remove them from the trauma of whatever experience brought us to them in the first place." 

He might have also added dumbass. 

He was right, a life of service is exactly that, leaving people in a better place then you found them.

Sneak Peek of Chapter One, A Life of Service

Dave and I continue to plug away on Unconventional Classroom. The rough draft is done, but as is so often the case while editing, additional content continues to flow and we’re weaving in those new facets. This project has captivated both of us and to help tide us over until its release (seriously, it’s hard to keep still this close to the finish line) we want to leak - I mean share - a few sneak peeks with you. Chapter One focuses on what a life of service is and in this snippet from that chapter Dave speaks of his grandfather, a former New York City police officer, and the impact that growing up with stories of him had on Dave’s career choice.

"You're a lot like your grandfather."

Rekindled 

Newspaper clipping circa 1908

I never met my grandfather, but he had a profound impact on the path I choose to take in my life. He was a New York City police officer. Thirty years my grandmother's senior, I only knew him from family stories, a small collection of memorabilia, and a handful of newspaper clippings that I read as a kid. Those articles, chronicling his seemingly distinguished NYPD career between 1908-1918, included rooftop chases, eventful arrests, even saving the life of a drowning man. Heady stuff for a kid. How he came to be a Justice of the Peace in Alberta, Canada after his rambunctious days in New York only added to his mystery. But for my mom and her younger sister, he was simply their dad, a strict disciplinarian and of a different generation.

Still, his early career choice captivated me. I, too, wanted to choose a career that made a positive difference, that meant something important to me. As cool as chasing bad guys on rooftops sounded, teaching high school physical education seemed like an equally compelling choice. In my experience, coaches and gym teachers were happy and quite frankly seemed to have fun playing. It helped that in high school there had been a collective group of teachers that had a significant, positive impact on me. There dedication, their service, meant something. I started college, focused on a degree in education.

"You're a lot like your grandfather." The echo of my mom's voice quieted and my fascination with his career choice took a backseat to the real life of studying, exams and work. I was taking core education classes, doing my thing, my way. But when it was time to choose electives, I found myself sitting in a criminology course, then another. Those two courses rekindled that spark that had been smouldering since I was a kid. The college I was attending had a criminology program. It wouldn't be the only time I thought I had life figured out, only to find myself quite firmly on a very different path than I had originally set out on. 

from Unconventional Classroom