The Power of the Crowd

Please welcome Recruit Jarred. He comes to the Lakewood Police Department after several years as a patrol officer for the New York Police Department. He writes today about the ability of a community to elevate people to a higher plane.

When was the last time you felt “the power of the crowd?” I’m referring to the push from an outside source that allows you to dig deep and drive on, not only in a physical sense but also a mental sense. The importance of this feeling has occurred to me before, as I’m sure it has with many of you. It wasn’t until I started the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Department/Lakewood Police Department Combined Regional Academy that I realized how significant it is to my sense of ownership and pride.

Typically, this concept is found in team sports or group fitness activities. It can mean the difference between a win and a loss. In some careers, and in certain circumstances within those professions, it can mean life or death. If it’s been a while since you’ve felt this or if you’ve never been there at all, I encourage you to participate either by cheering others on or putting yourself in an activity where you are the one getting cheered. I was lucky enough to have experienced this throughout my life as a team member in the military and later as a New York City Police Officer. I wanted to share my recent experience during the police academy.

At the Academy, cheering occurs when we are given a workout and the words “go” or “begin” are heard. We start running or doing push-ups, followed by box jumps or pull-ups. My body begins to fatigue and lungs begin to burn. Put yourself in a recruit’s position - we still have the internal motivation to keep going but our bodies start to slow down, until you hear your teammates and instructors cheer each us on. However, one particular expression of encouragement came not from a peer or instructor, it came from a local citizen.

The class was running around the lake for a warm-up. I passed a women exercising, out enjoying the sunshine. What she said next truly made me feel the “Power of the Crowd.”  “You’re all doing a great job” she said. “Thank you.” They are words police officers don’t ordinarily hear, humbling to say the least.

I guess two things happened that afternoon. The first was her welcomed comments. The second was the rush of pride I felt that members of my new community were cheering us on and respected our effort.

Not many people are happy to see police but on this day we were a welcomed sight. A simple comment from a local citizen and on that day in that moment I felt the “power of the crowd” the push to dig deep and drive on, not for myself but for others.

   

 

 

 

Departing the Air of Informality

Please welcome Recruit Tyler. He is from Ft. Collins, and recently joined the Lakewood Police Department as a recruit.

 

The corporate world of consulting can be fast-paced and hectic. There is always an urgent proposal, a contract that needed to be signed yesterday, and a regulator demanding your immediate attention. However, this may not be apparent when walking into the office most days. Half the staff may be missing because they are out to lunch with a client or telecommuting from home. The other half at the office may be dressed down to jeans and polo shirts most days of the week.

 

There is also an air of informality among all levels of authority. Employees typically engage in conversation without using titles. For example, most workers could get on the phone with an executive member of the company and converse on a first-name basis. This isn't a description of all corporate cultures, but it is the collegial environment from which I came into law enforcement

 

My professional background consists of working for in-house legal departments, supporting professionals within architecture, engineering, and medicine. Did I have any idea of what to expect of a police academy? No! The anxiety made it difficult to sleep before that first week. How do I polish boots? How do I properly press a dress shirt? Thankfully, there are forty-seven fellow recruits to ask. So I set out to make a number of purchases for the first time: boots, polish, and, yes, an ironing board.

 

The first attempt at polishing boots was rather disappointing. I thought I had purchased a glossy polish but the can might better have read "Lusterless Barn Boot.” With the help of several YouTube videos and a hairdryer on the fritz, the toes finally started to shine. My appearance was still far from satisfactory. While standing in morning lineup, my tie was pointed out as being "all goofed up." The fat knot of the corporate world was apparently not acceptable to a cast of instructors prone to uniformity – hence, the uniforms. That night I revisited YouTube to learn to fashion an appropriate tie for law enforcement. My tie didn't look too bad except the little indent was mediocre, according to the keen eye of Jefferson County Sergeant Swavely.

           

The cultural symbolism of law enforcement was closing in on me. What would I miss next? Of course, titles. I inadvertently reverted to that first-name basis style of communication and failed to recognize a title. I needed to speak with academy staff and said I was here for Beers. No, I did not have a six pack in hand. I intended to speak with my training instructor, Lakewood Police Agent Beers. This error resulted in subjecting the class to our first disciplinary run to ensure a light pole 200 yards away was still there. We were subsequently able to report that the light pole was exactly where it had been the day before.  

Symbols, hierarchy, and discipline: together these function to develop a common discourse among recruits and academy staff. Such a discourse develops good law enforcement professionals who serve and protect as called upon. We are becoming “Agents,” men and women considered highly crucial by the community, including the marginalized, people experiencing the worst day of their lives, and all walks of life. Maybe, as one of our instructors pointed out, we might even be police agents as viewed from the eyes of a child. By chance, my daughter had drawn a picture of me as a police agent the previous week. It is pictures like that which make me grateful to be in the academy; to become a police agent with the Lakewood Police Department.

The Journey West

Please welcome Recruit Louis. He is a "Lateral" police recruit, which means he worked a minimum of three years for another police department - this one fairly big and well known. Additional requirements are placed on laterals, including the expectation that they arrive already exhibiting the high standards expected of a Lakewood Agent.

I remember it clearly. The hard stares, the loud shouts of “Walk faster! No Talking! Sit down! Don’t move!” I sat in an ill-fitting suit, surrounded by nearly 800 others who were nervous, just like I was. “Sign here, and here, and here, and here,” they said, as I flipped the pages and inscribed a signature over and over again. Don’t move now, stay awake, sit up straight; don’t think about the itchy tie and dress shirt around your neck – this runs over and over in my mind. We were informed by staff that one among us refused to come back after lunch on that very first day. One had already quit, couldn’t handle the pressure. This was my first experience at the Academy of the New York City Police Department.

My name is Recruit Louis, and I am one of three lateral hires for the Lakewood Police Department. Prior to this I was a Patrol Officer for the NYPD. I was assigned to a precinct in Harlem, one of the more crime ridden areas of New York City, as a part of Police Commissioner Raymond Kelly’s statically-driven “Operation: Impact.” It was an incredible experience. Learning to “swim” there was like being thrown into the deep end of a wave pool during a thunderstorm. It was a hard lesson and I learned fast because I had to. I ran, I fought ‘bad guys’, I made arrests, I did paperwork, and I drank a lot of coffee (large, with milk and a shot of espresso for good measure). I made plans for my days off only to be told, on my “Friday”, that I would be working 16 hours or more on my days off. A protest started involving thousands of people who were taking over the streets. It looked like a full stadium was leaving a Bronco’s game all at once, but it was angry. They were shouting and screaming against the police. This went on for weeks.  I missed my first Christmas with my new wife.

 It was a huge culture shock to someone like me who didn’t grow up in a city and who, before working for the NYPD, spent the previous 7 years as a Park Ranger for the National Park Service. Most recently I worked for the Great Sand Dunes National Park in southern Colorado (where I fell in love with this state and met an amazing Colorado native woman, who is now my wife).

The NYPD was a lot of fun…at times. I made good friends and saw amazing and interesting things. I was PAID TIME AND A HALF to ring in the New Year in Time Square. However, I started to miss something--Nature. I had traded sunset vistas from the tops of mountains for sunrise views from the roofs of projects. I missed seeing the stars at night. I missed hearing the swish of a fresh breeze in the grass. I missed trees not surrounded by concrete. After a lot of soul searching and conversations with my wife, I decided to start my search for a new department. I resolved, as so many had done before me; to “go west young man.” I sought a department that respected and valued its officers. I would find an organization where there is respect both given to, and received from, the public.

·         “Going to the mountains is going home.” – John Muir

“I would like to offer you a conditional offer with Lakewood Police department. We have a certain culture here and we hope you will fit.” Almost a year after going through the selection process I actually heard the words I never thought would come. I was offered one of the very few openings available. I packed the car and my wife and I started the drive across the country. In the rear view mirror, the lights of “the City” faded. Ahead of us was nearly 2,000 miles of interstate, leading to the base of the Rockies.

“Welcome to Lakewood.” I was greeted my first day with an outstretched hand. “I’ll show you around our little shop.” Yes, I will fit in here just fine.

Touring Lakewood’s Police Department and the main headquarters’ offices, I was greeted time and again with a smile, a handshake and a genuine welcome. My time so far in the Academy has been wonderful. The staff goes above and beyond for the Recruits. Help is always given, if needed. It is still a Police Academy. “Motivation” here is provided, at times, through some sort of physical activity. The demand for professionalism and respect is continuously taught and reinforced. We are expected to hold ourselves to a high standard regardless of if the staff is present or if their backs are turned. The Academy Staff seem to be more like leaders and mentors than drill sergeants. They focus on respect, family, and community. I am starting to understand “the Lakewood culture” and I feel aligned with it. It is motivated by the desire to improve the community. The integrity of the individuals who work for the Police Department, the Academy, and the City of Lakewood is the foundation.

I know I’m going to miss a few more holidays. There will be short notice overtime; there will be extra shifts that nobody else wants and very cold foot posts keeping a crime scene secure. I’m a rookie here, its part of the deal.  Most importantly, the sunrise will always shine on the mountains.

I am excited to work with you and for you. I found my place. I found my home. Thank you to the whole Lakewood Family, I will do my best to make you proud.

A Mile High

Please welcome Lakewood Police Recruit Joe. He is a member of the Combined Regional Academy Class 2016-1, which started on January 4th. Academy physical training is grueling, but by helping each other the class can endure the hardships. 

 

Week 1 of the academy hit pretty hard. Not in the “beat-your-face” (as in “off of the floor” by doing push ups – military jargon from my past) type of way, but it soon became very clear that there was a long, hard road ahead of my follow recruits and I. Standards would be high. Attention to detail would be paramount. We would, in fact, be beating our faces when our instructors felt that we needed to be redirected. And although the academy hours officially run 8am to 5pm every day, success would require extensive after-hours studying and preparation. Personal time, and sometimes sleep, would be minimal.

This was hard for me to hear. In our class, I'm one of a handful of "transplants" (a local word meaning "not from here; not native"). Born and raised near Pittsburgh, PA, I had been looking forward to doing every outdoorsy thing Colorado has to offer, and doing it every day if I could help it.

While I was slightly disappointed that I'd have to put off a few of those adventures, I did get the chance to enjoy the great outdoors in the academy early on. We were taking what would be a challenging run for some, a leisurely stroll for some of the fitter recruits, and a horrid, fast-paced death march for someone who was out of shape and not at all acclimated to the altitude. Someone like me.  

While there was no chance of me stopping or giving up in any way, I did find that the longer I put out, the slower time went by, and the heavier my feet began to feel. I found myself falling behind the main group. I felt discouraged and ashamed, and breathless and in pain, to boot.  As I kept pushing on, my thoughts turned dark.

"This is dumb."

"I could use a walking break."

"I cannot believe that we have another workout to do after this run." Because that's what we do at the academy. We work out. And, then we work out.

Running wasn't new to me. I knew that a positive attitude made all the difference when every step seemed to hurt, and I knew that positive thoughts were what I needed if I was going to finish the event. But I'd never been winded at a mile above sea level before, and I couldn't shake the negativity. "Come on, Brown," someone said from ahead of me. A fellow recruit had ran back, basically volunteering to run extra distance, and was soon pressing me to press on.

"Keep going."

"Lengthen your stride."

"Not too much farther."

It was still hard, but my feet felt a little lighter, and I didn't care as much that my lungs were on fire. We caught up with the group, pretty much just in time to begin our next work out. There, I had the chance to give back by encouraging other recruits throughout the exercise. Lesson of the day: no one is equipped to make it through alone. Teamwork got me through that run, and it will get us all through this academy.

Stepping Up

Please welcome, one last time, Recruit Sarah. She and her classmates graduate on December 10th. Sixteen weeks of field training is ahead for the Lakewood Recruits. Successful completion of that stage will mean they are full-fledged Agents, taking their places among the men and women who serve the city of Lakewood. It will have been ten months since they first walked into the classroom. Please join me in congratulating the Combined Regional Academy Recruit Class 2015, and wishing them well. Sergeant Greer, LPD Training Unit.

“The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.”   -Lao Tzu

It is with mixed feelings I write this last blog. Life at the Academy has been a constant whirlwind of information, learning, and stress. From sun up to sun down I have either been at the Academy or thinking about the Academy. After 20-plus weeks, things are finally coming to an end. I find myself spending time now thinking about how the Academy has changed me.

My civilian-to-agent makeover is best epitomized through the firearms program. I showed up to the Academy with next to no handgun experience. I’m not even sure you can count my previous interactions with this tool as “experience”: my uncle shoved a Glock into my hands and had me fire it a few times. The first day at the range started with an hour of drills without any ammunition. My hands were unconsciously shaking throughout. I had an odd mixture of excitement and fear pulsing uncontrollably through my body.

The astute instructors noticed and I was whisked away during the first break to fire off a few rounds before the rest of the recruits. They said it was to “take out my nervousness.” To me, it felt like an indication of weakness. After the first bullets flew down range, any illusions of grandeur that I might be a natural prodigy at firearms quickly evaporated. As I pulled the trigger holes appeared sporadically at least 15 inches from where I was actually aiming.

Midway through the firearms program, I had made some progress. When I fired, the holes were now starting to group closer together. The instructors often reminded me to not look at the targets of my neighbors. Many recruits had arrived at the Academy having shot a handgun for much of their lives. The instructors wanted each recruit focused on their own progress, not how they looked compared to a neighbor. This was easier said than done.

When performing drills from the 50-yard line, I was unfortunate enough to shoot next to my friend (one of those recruits who basically grew up with a gun in her hands). After firing 12 rounds down range we walked up to our targets to see how we did.

On my friend’s silhouette, eight headshots. Headshots. From 50 yards. Eight of them. Like it was nothing. I really should never have looked.

Then there was my target. It appeared as if I had fired a shotgun from five yards away. Holes were everywhere, with next to no pattern. Next came feedback from our instructors. I will never forget one of the range sergeants complementing my friend on her excellent silhouette (she really is a tremendous shooter). When he looked at my target, his initial comment revolved around my hits being so spread out he had no idea what to say to even begin to help. As he walked away, he turned and added, “but not bad for a math teacher.”

Before anyone gets the wrong idea… I came to law enforcement after several years teaching math. I love teaching. I love math. There is, believe it or not, a lot of math in law enforcement. There are also a lot of calculated mind games, meant to help us shift our self-perceptions.

 But, yikes. I had made progress, but the experience left me highly motivated to be more than just a math teacher with a gun.  I had more work to do on my transition from civilian to cop.

Fast-forward a few months later to the Top Gun competition and there stands a recruit unrecognizable from the first. I had spent hours practicing drills at home. I even managed to weasel my way into extra time at the range. I knew that the best way to improve was to practice constantly AND get as much time with the fantastic instructors as possible.

Now the moment I’d been waiting for: the Top Gun competition used to determine the best shooter in the recruit class. My hands were now steady, my mind calm and confident at the thought of firing a gun. At the sound of the beep, I moved with fluidity only repetition can foster. My gun was out of the holster and shots down range before my competitor each time.  The delightful sound of a bullet hitting steel confidently met my ear round after round.

I wish I could finish this story with a big, “I won!” I didn’t win the competition, but I did surprise myself. I was the last female recruit standing as well as one of the last from Lakewood.

My life at range is much like my experience through the Academy. There have been a lot of things I’ve been awful at. Yet, taught by content experts, I have been given the opportunity to study, learn, practice, prepare, fail, and succeed. The hard work I put in to every course, every drill, every minute has paid off in the end. I exit feeling more confident in my abilities than I ever thought possible. I am self-assured and competent with the many tools of my profession, knowing when and how to use them and, equally important, when not to.

Leaving the Academy, I know I have come so far and relished many accomplishments. Yet, in reality, I recognize that I have only taken the first step in my “journey of a thousand miles.” The Academy was only a brief beginning.

Now it is time to learn how to run in Field Training. Heaven help the Field Trainers (or at least whomever is tasked with me).

Plank Owner

Please welcome back Recruit Sarah. In this entry she discusses the demands of physical training, especially when PT doubles as an incentive to improve. Conditioning can not only be important for dealing with the physical demands of the job, but can assist officers in dealing with the long term effects of stress.

 

“Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference.” ~Winston Churchill

Chaos.

People are shouting all around me. Instructors are aggressively imploring the recruit class to “keep our butts down!” Fellow recruits (those that are actually able to breath at this point) are yelling encouragements: “It’s all in your mind!” “Push through!” “We can do this!”

Normally an encourager, I am not contributing much at this point. The muscles that control my ability to breath and speak concurrently, and the parts of my brain controlling same, are preoccupied with keeping my body parallel to the ground.

It’s Friday.

It’s 5:15 pm (1715 for all the recruits that mock me for not speaking in military time).

It’s raining.

The recruit class is proned out in a plank position in the Academy parking lot. We are being punished “motivated” by the steadfast, insistent Physical Training (PT) Instructors.

Most weeks of Academy include 2-3 sessions of PT. The classes are based on CrossFit® principles. Being an officer, our bodies must be honed for multi-functional (as opposed to singular, repetitious) movements. We might have to go from sitting for hours to an all out sprint across unpredictable landscape, scale fences and then be prepared to engage an uncooperative person bent on escape at all costs. Our fitness will be tied to possible life and death outcomes.

The PT Instructors are all current police officers. They live daily the challenges that I can only imagine. They chose to spend their time at the Academy to make us better, urging us to challenge our perceived limits. Each PT session is intentionally planned to ensure we are physically and mentally prepared to face the rigors of a career as a police agent. Do we occasionally need some extra “motivation” to get the point the PT staff is trying to drive home?

Most certainly. Case in Point:

It is Friday of Week 5:

- Already 15 minutes past the end of the workday

- Plank position

- Asphalt digging into my forearms

- Rain soaking my clothes (did I mention it was raining?)

- Ab muscles screaming at the exertion of resisting gravity

Why are we in this position? Not all of the recruits had completed the workout correctly. The PT instructors have been trying for weeks to send the message that we must be attentive to details (keeping track of all reps) and make sure we don’t cheat ourselves.

During a ten-second rest between planks, the recruit next to me drops to the pavement. “This sucks,” he mutters, gasping for breath. I can only smile. My response? “All you can control is your attitude, stay positive.” His facial expression clearly communicates this was not a welcomed comment. For me – reprimand PT is fun. Epic, even. Don’t ask why.

Yet, it is true. My locus of control during Academy starts with my attitude. Planks should suck! A lot. I normally hate planks. My body has no problem telling me it hates planks, too. But, with the right attitude, planks seem much more palatable.

Planks will forever invoke this memory of my muscles screaming, alongside the other recruits. Rain pelting my back and dripping down my face. It should have been an awful feeling. Instead, it was galvanizing and invigorating. Forty-four of us meeting an obstacle head on and surviving the motivational moment together. Perhaps this is a preview of what it will be like to work as a team with our future departments (hopefully without the need to plank…too much).

“If you are not enjoying the journey, you probably won't enjoy the destination.” ~Author Unknown

Finding Time

Please welcome Recruit Brian, writing about transitioning to a new sleep schedule...for now.

When I accepted the job offer to become a Lakewood Police Agent, I knew I signed up for some heavy duty lifestyle changes.  At the top of that list, I was concerned about the impact it would have on my beloved sleep.  Most times, I fall asleep quickly and wake up refreshed, adrift with the quiet sound of the radio alarm playing in the morning.  Until this point in my life, I have been fortunate enough to sleep soundly throughout the night. 

For the past 7 years I worked from my home and made my own schedule.  As a result, sleep has been on my terms. Generally I awoke at 7 AM after a restful 8 hours of sleep.  Perhaps, if I got into an intense television viewing marathon (“Chopped” – a competitive cooking show) and didn’t get to bed at 2 AM, I could wake up for a 6 o'clock meeting knowing that I could catch an afternoon nap.  Unfortunately, whether I liked it or not, things were about to change. 

At the start of the police academy, I learned quickly that waking up at my “normal” time was not going to happen.  In order to be successful I would need a new sleep schedule - lights out by 2200 hrs (what most of the rest of America calls 10 PM) and awake by 0500.  Even though class starts at 0800 and ends at 1700 (5 PM… Well, you get the idea – I’ve begun the art of employing a cumbersome math equation whenever I tell time) there were many things that needed to be accomplished outside of class that would take up the majority of my free time.  Gone were the days of relaxing on the couch for an hour, watching TV and eating a leisurely dinner.    

Without a strict schedule, I would fall behind on my number one priority of studying.  Following closely behind were the little but equally important tasks like boot polishing, uniform pressing, street memorization and just plain staying awake through 8 hours of PowerPoint-driven lecture.  I also knew that intense instructor scrutiny of our fundamentals at the gun range, and technique learned during arrest control were about to steepen the learning curve.  Shooting our pistols accurately and searching suspects for deadly weapons are just two of the many areas that require extreme mental clarity.  They were also two disciplines where lack of sleep could lead to catastrophic consequences.    

For the most part, my strict sleep schedule has worked out as planned and I have been much more productive.  Before class I study or review techniques and after class I stay late to send emails, finish reports or get a workout in while going over notes from the day.  Best of all, I avoid rush hour traffic which helps maintain my sanity.  But with all of this change came some pit falls and there has been one major downside to my newly found regimen.  

Without fail, my internal alarm wakes me up between 5 and 30 minutes before 0500.  In a strangely sadistic way, it’s always the perfect amount of time to make going back to sleep completely worthless.  During the week, I have grown to reluctantly embrace the extra minutes, utilizing it for extra study time.   Unfortunately, this happens on the weekends when I could be catching up on some much needed beauty sleep.  Invariably my eyes will open around 0500…there I go again, even when referring to “my time”…and unless I am going on a skiing or fishing trip, I can’t think of one good reason to be up before the sun rises on a Saturday or Sunday morning. 

Now that we have hit the halfway mark, I have comfortably settled into my new routine.  However, in just three short months all of this will be turned on its head.  What started out as a conventional “8-5” (0800 to 1700, to be precise) schedule will become chaos as I take the headfirst plunge into the world of rookie police work.  Ten long hours plus overtime on graveyard shifts, working in the dark morning hours and then attempting to sleep while the rest of the world is wide awake and going about their lives.  I don’t anticipate that it will be an easy adjustment and potentially it will be the most difficult of the changes to come my way.  Perhaps with a little bit of luck and some semblance of routine, I will be able to sleep soundly through the day.