Rise and Fall of a Deputy Sheriff Part I
One year ago today I graduated from the police academy and was officially hired by my local sheriff’s office. I was one of only four people in my graduating class of 29 to be wearing a uniform other than that of the academy and one of the only two to get hired by an agency since starting the academy the previous January. I was certainly no more deserving than a great many of my classmates (and I’m very pleased to say that at least two that I’m aware of have since been hired and several more are in the process), but my circumstances were divinely aligned and things fell into place forme.It was an exciting night. During the graduation ceremony I would look down at my uniform and be startled to see tan and green and not the light blue and navy I had been wearing for 11 months. I found it surreal on some level that though I had trained for this for nearly a year, here I am in a public place with a loaded firearm strapped to my hip! Like I said, there were many of my classmates who I thought just as qualified as me, but I was proud to be one of the few to be wearing a different color. I did finish at or near the top of my class both academically and physically; I was middle of the pack on the range. I felt that by the end I was one of the leaders of my class and seemed to have the respect of my classmates.
And yet here I am a year later, still working for the sheriff, but a deputy no longer.
Graduation was on a Thursday night. The family and I left early Friday morning for a bonzai Disneyland trip. I had to report for duty at 0800 hours on Monday morning. The first three weeks of training were orientation type stuff. Read these policies and procedures, watch these videos on blood borne pathogens, here’s who to call for peer support when the field training program–commonly known as FTO or simply, The Program–inevitably reduces you to a stressed out gelatinous mass, here’s a tour of all our substations and departments. That sort of stuff. I did get to shoot guns and drive fast cars–I mean do range training and drive the Emergency Vehicle Operations Course (EVOC).
The real fun started on 12/28/2010 at 2100 hours. First night of FTO. I strapped on my vest, pulled my uniform shirt on, checked my radio, and pressed checked my Glock–15 in the mag, one in the pipe. Wow, this is real.
It was raining that night and my Field Training Officer (also FTO) did the driving. He explained things as we drove around our beat, Zone 3-Local. I only really remember two calls from that first night, probably because I pulled my gun on both of them. First night and I’m already upholstering my weapon! Twice! One was a building search of an abandoned house and one was a sword wielding drunk, which sounds pretty exciting, but really wasn’t that big of a deal. Just a nerd who drank two much beer, got into an argument with his buddies, and made the mistake of stepping outside the house with his Franklin Mint sword in his hand. Still, I’ll never forget the name of the first person I took to jail.
The Program is divided into five phases. At each phase you get a new FTO, who is often on another shift in another zone. At each phase the trainee should be handling more and more and the FTO should be having to help less and less. By Final Phase the FTO will actually be in civilian clothes and the training is basically over. He’s only evaluating at that point.
The first phase is called Orientation Phase. It’s sort of a way of easing trainees into things without crushing their confidence right off the bat. You aren’t evaluated or graded. Not to say your trainer isn’t instructing you, but you aren’t getting the numerical score that you do in the other phases. You’re scored in about 25 different categories on a scale of 1 to 7, one being the worst. Actually, the dreaded NRT is the worst. Not Responding to Training. Much worse than even a 1. But in that Orientation Phase, you don’t get a numerical score. It allows the trainee to handle calls and learn from the mistakes without getting stressed out by seeing an endless string of 1′s and 2′s on your DOR (Daily Observation Report). Everyone tells you to ignore the scores in the first few phases of training, because you’re going to make mistakes because you’re new and you have no idea what you’re doing. Easier said then done, of course.
My FTO for Orientation Phase was an awesome deputy. Energetic, super sharp, a great teacher, easy going, he would always tell you what you were doing well and would always call you out on what you aren’t. Right away I knew this was the type of deputy I wanted to be. Almost right from the start he would have me handling the calls almost totally on my own. I could ask him questions of course, but he wouldn’t come easy with the answers. He’d let me work through it.
I remember early in my third week we responded to a female who had been the victim of 207, 245, 664/261, 211, 422, 288a and abandoned on a mountain road. And my FTO basically said to me, “Ok, go talk to her. Start working it.” Can you believe that!? On a 207, 245, 664/261, 211, 422, 288a in only my third week! Handle it? By the way, that’s a kidnapping, assault with a deadly weapon, attempted rape, robbery, death threats and some nasty thing you don’t want to read. Go look it up in the penal code if you really want to know. The victim turned out to not really be hurt at all, though she was obviously pretty shaken up, despite the obvious fact she had been around the block once or twice herself. The whole thing was very bizarre and convoluted, but apparently it was my bizarre and convoluted story to sort out. I remember when I turned in my lengthy report, my FTO good naturedly warned me, “Ok, I’m going to tear this thing apart.” I said, “Alright, I’m ready.” Do you know how many changes he made? Like, five. Very minor ones. He was visibly impressed and even bragged about it to some of the other senior deputies. Gotta say, that felt pretty good.
Before my five weeks with him were up, I remember he told me, “I see no issues with you. I think you’re going to be fine.” And yet, here I am, nearly a year later. A deputy no longer.
To be continued.
I thought this blog was helpful because I remember the day of graduation. You work so hard to get to that day and that's just the beginning of a long career. The gearing up for FTO, riding alone, the calls, all of which every rookie lives for!
