Perspective is an Antidote to Worry

As Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, “For every minute you remain angry, you give up sixty seconds of peace of mind.” I think Emerson was on to something. People have a tendency to catastrophize what they anticipate will become a negative experience instead of taking on the challenge and owning the problem, or even flipping the negative and making it an accomplishment that they survived. Are the negative experiences we have had ever as bad as we dreamed they were going to be? Catastrophizing robs us of peace of mind and can prevent us from moving forward, and in extreme cases can even lead some into a noose or to the top of a bridge deck to contemplate a permanent solution to almost always very temporary problems.

Baz Luhrmann said it best in his song Everybody is Free to Wear Sunscreen: "Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as affective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindsides you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.”

Photo credit D. Sweet

It is true, the things we don't prepare for are most apt to really change us in the moment; it's not things we see coming, it's the ones we don't. This isn’t a lack of planning, either, sometimes life derails us and no amount of planning changes that. Like what happened to a beautiful young mother of three small children I met one morning when I went to inform her of her husbands murder on the fifth anniversary of their oldest son's birth. For her, the night before was like any other as she wished her hubby off for a good time on the town with his buddies not knowing it would be the last time she would speak with him. He was a normal, hard working, and by all accounts great father who on the night of his homicide attended a house party with a couple of friends, one unbeknownst to the others in the group was not welcome. In the skirmish that followed a knife was stuck into the father's chest without cause and he died minutes later in his friend’s arms. This outcome obviously changed his and everyone who loved him lives forever. It is one of many cases that really provides perspective when I think about the things we worry about, versus what his young widow must now contend with; suddenly being passed over for that next raise or getting into an argument with your spouse seems somewhat insignificant by comparison.

We all have bad days, I of course have them too, and that is when I remind myself how fortunate I am. The reality is I work in a career that many would find interesting. The fact is there are more professional hockey players that live in this town then homicide detectives and the stats say only one in every 85,000 kids playing hockey will ever get an opportunity to play one game in the pros. I live in a city of more than a million people, work in an organization of more then two thousand, and there are only fifteen of us city wide who have the opportunity to work in a career many people have only dreamed of as kids as they read the Hardy Boys or Nancy Drew. The odds that I would even get this chance seems near impossible, yet here I am. Experience has taught me that worrying over every detail of every day that has troubled me takes away from what I consider to be the very enviable situation that I find myself in. Perspective is a powerful antidote to worry.

Thanks for popping in, we appreciate you taking the time. We’ll have another post next week.
Until then,
Dave

A Time and Place for Ceremony

Before this book, I knew Dave in a peripheral sort of way. He was that homicide detective that gave presentations to writing groups: pleasant enough, with a sense of humour and surprisingly patient. Dave’s schedule is no less crammed than everyone else’s, arguably more so with that whole time-sensitivity of murder investigations, yet he would always answer writer questions long after the allotted presentation time was up. He would also use his own brand of humour to offset the heaviness of the topic. For years he was that dude that graciously answered random law enforcement questions from us writers to more accurately depict characters or hammer out plot points.

Over this past year that random peripheral shifted into first person narrative. He’s still pleasant enough if there is an energy drink at hand, and his sense of humour is dark but entertaining the few times I’ve seen it off-leash. His patience has extended to my bottle-necked edits and I know to bring in humour when needed as there are indeed heavy parts to this book. A few weeks ago Dave mentioned in passing that he was getting an award.

Photo credit R. Graham

So of course me being me, was all, “Dude, an award? That sounds cool. Can I come?” Writing in first person Dave is a constant exercise in appropriate coaxing: enough to be accurate without being invasive. Any chance to peer inside his world could only make the book stronger. More importantly though, an award from the Chief just seems like one of those things you go to to support your buddy and everyone who is receiving the honour. I went, and witnessed men and women, civilian and officers, honoured for their hard work, quick thinking, and acts of bravery. It was a discreet ceremony, and stronger for it’s brevity. The concise stories we heard, for me, only drummed harder everything that wasn’t said, like those pauses we talked about in the last post. It also kicked my butt to get these edits finished. This book is not an awards ceremony, but it delivers some parallel messages: the human spirit is an amazing thing to behold, our actions impact others, we can make a difference in another’s life, and giving a damn goes really, really far, just to name a few.

As mentioned a million times before, I’m not from the law enforcement world. I have to say, walking into a room full of men and women all decked out in their spiffy dress Blues made a pretty rad impression; there is a time and place for ceremony, this was totally one of those times. Congratulations to all of those honoured.

Thanks for checking in, we’ll have another post next week.
Happy Friday,
Sarah

An Undercover Perspective: Matching Actions to Intentions

Throughout this project, I have listened to what Dave hasn't said as much as what he has. When we all listen to each other, when we notice the voice of the pauses, as much as we do the words, we hear that much more. As Dave recounted his time with an undercover street team, I couldn’t help but wonder about those moments of pause, as he replayed past experiences in his head, making sense of memories before sharing. We all have stories, and Dave racked up quite a few of his own during his three year tenure with the drug unit. He gained unique perspectives, one of which was just how different the public’s perception and attitudes towards various people within a community can be. It was a lesson he learned first hand. The following story shares a part of his experience.

It took about a year to really develop a look that masked the real me. My beard had grown long and straggly, hanging well down my chest. My ears had contained numerous piercings, and heavy metal icons adorned many of my shirts and hoodies. I learned what it felt like to be marginalized by my community. My children, by association, learned it, too.

My family and I were fortunate to live in a nice middle-class neighbourhood with pretty, luxury SUV-driving soccer moms around every corner. One particular day, my three-year-old son and I had been sent to run errands and pick up groceries for the week. Like any other day, we entered the store and went about our business selecting our eggs, milk, meat, and cereals. Happy, my son sat in the cart as we made our way through the store. As we turned down our next aisle I heard a young boy say, "Look at the guy, mom." My son and I both turned to see a young boy, with his well groomed mother, pointing at me. "Look at that guy, mom," he repeated, this time catching his mom's attention. As her eyes met mine I saw them widen, then an expression of fear or disgust flashed across her face. "Quiet," she answered him before they promptly fled the aisle. Without missing a beat my boy, realizing what had just happened, put his hands on mine and rubbed them, proclaiming, "You're the best dad ever, I love you."

That day stayed with me; my son's innate social wisdom and compassion, and the knee-jerk reaction of the well-heeled mom and her son. That response became our new normal. Whenever I was with my spouse and kids, at the zoo, the mall, or an amusement park, people stared. The judgement and disapproval were clear, those poor kids. When they saw the pretty brunette with me I can only assume those confused stares meant they were trying to figure out if she was my sister, or maybe my parole officer. I'm certain they never suspected she was my wife at the time.

Living that experience taught me many lessons. It made me much more empathetic towards the marginalized and disadvantaged. In the past I had often thought, “Why can't these folks get jobs? Why aren’t they working? Why is he wearing his underwear on the outside of his pants?” Now I know that's easy to say if you are a person who knows the proper undergarment layer order, or you have an appearance that is inviting instead of off-putting, or you just naturally know how to walk tall and speak eloquently. I also now know first hand that if you are not those things, some in society may devalue and judge you harshly. From what I experienced, you must also care for yourself if you wish to have others care for you, too. Like it or not, first impressions count. And if we are to control how we wish others to view us, then we must match our actions to our intentions.

Thanks for joining us on this leg of the journey. We appreciate you tuning in. We’ll have another post next week.

Until next time,
Sarah

Just Because You Can, Doesn't Mean You Should

Policing has taught me that there are very few certainties in life and just because we can do something doesn't mean we always should. Our actions, even if by-the-book, can have unintentional yet still incredibly damaging consequences to people. Discretion is an intangible, perhaps that is why it is so often under estimated, but it is a powerful tool that when applied judiciously, allows us to make wise, thoughtful decisions that can make a significant, positive difference in people's lives. Discretion allows us to mindfully go about our business and problem-solve at our best, not just when it is easiest.

Policing 101 teaches us that when it comes to the management of witnesses, it is a best practice to keep them separated until each has had an opportunity to speak with investigators. Sound logic in a lot of cases as it avoids the potential for contamination of their statements, their evidence. In many cases police witnesses do not have to be eye witnesses. In homicide cases, most people who provide information are actually providing evidence of the back story. Witnesses may have information around the last time they saw the victim alive or the circumstances in the victim's life like problems they may have been having with people or criminality they may have been involved in. With that said, what happens when several of our witnesses are also victims of the crime? Should the rules learned in Policing 101 still hold true?

photo credit D. Sweet

Several years ago I was involved investigating an extremely sad and brutal murder.  A mother of four, and one of her children, were found dead in their family home. The husband and father of the two victims discovered the bodies and immediately called police. Upon arrival to the scene, the husband was brought in by us for questioning and to hear his backstory. The surviving children, who were all in school when the murders occurred, were also brought in for the same purpose. Once at the station, each was to receive the news about their mother and sibling's passing. It was at this moment that it became the discretion of our officers on how best to do this. Should investigators bring the family members together for the delivery of the news, or should each be told separately? For me and the other investigators in my unit, this was a no brainer. But it does go against the established processes of procedural controls pertaining to witnesses. Does that really matter? I didn't believe it did then and I don't believe it does now. The empathetic and compassionate choice was to tell everyone together and then speak with each one separate afterward if that could have been possible, which of course in this case it wasn't.

How do we know we made the right decision? Imagine the outcome if discretion wasn't applied or picture the headline in tomorrow's news. In this same scenario, each child after being told the awful truth was left to deal with it on their own in a room sobbing and wailing with a stranger they had never met before.

Does the use of discretion this way affect the investigation in the short term? It does. But regardless of this fact, in this case and those like it, putting others before ourselves trumps everything and I am blessed to work with a group of people that see it that way too.

Thanks for checking back in. We’ll have another post next week.

Dave