I was on a social network site for 9-1-1 professionals yesterday and came across a posting by an unhappy dispatcher. He was venting to the only audience that could possibly understand what he was going through. It was very apparent that he had had one of the those days. You know the one. You come that close to either throwing your headset across the room or wrapping the phone cord around your neck (only because you have no access to the idiot on the other end of the phone) until the sweet release of silence washes over you.

Trust me; over the past 20 years of working in public safety, I’ve had my share of those kinds of days. I have asked myself countless times why I chose this line of work. The public, the uncooperative callers, the never-ending stress: What was I thinking? I don’t remember any of this in the job description.

I had visions of the grateful public calling in to thank me profusely for helping them during their time of need. Officers were going to be singing my praises for the impossible tasks that I performed on every shift. I was going to receive “atta-boys” from the chief and mayor for being the best 9-1-1 calltaker/dispatcher that ever came through the department. After all, I was going to make a difference in the world. I was a 9-1-1 professional. And all for $6.21 an hour!

So back to my friend, the poster. There were many responses from other public safety professionals lamenting over all the things that get under our skin. Several cited the hours we work, the under appreciation, the clash with field units, the mandated overtime and—most importantly I think—the lack of proper compensation.

It has always amazed me how Americans prioritize occupations. You can be a talented athlete or actor and make literally millions of dollars per year. Then you have occupations like the public safety professional who is responsible for human lives every day. We take calls from the mentally ill, the abused, the intoxicated and victims of horrible crimes. We are cursed at, over worked and underpaid. Our field units are harassed by the very people who call for assistance. They work in miserable conditions: extreme heat, rain, snow etc.. We have to make sure that we follow the rules and policies to the letter lest we be disciplined or even lose our certifications or job. We make split-second decisions that not only may affect someone else’s life, but our own personal safety as well, only to have the media and public overanalyze and pick the incident apart and “what-if” it to death.

It’s a wonder anyone signs up for what we do, much less makes an entire career of it. But we did. Why did we choose this occupation?

My heart broke for all my fellow public safety telecommunicators on that site as I read post after post. It made me so sad.

But what we do is so important. That’s what we have to hold on to. The victims that we have rescued know what we do is significant. Our loved ones know how critical our job is. Our co-workers, supervisors and administrators know what we do is monumental. And more importantly, we know what we do is worthwhile.

Trust me when I say I know what it is like to be stuck in a position that you are absolutely miserable in. I was one of the lucky ones and was able to transfer to a department that was able to recognize my hard work and dedication. Monetarily, I would love to have been making more, but in today’s economic climate, I’m happy to have a job with good benefits.

The only thing that kept me going when things were bad was my shift mates, my family. We helped each other the best that we could. We covered each other’s vacation time; we let each other vent as often as necessary. We swapped shifts to help each other out when someone needed it. Don’t get me wrong, just like any other family we had our problems and difficulties, but all in all, we were just that: family.

Sometimes when things get hard, all we have is each other. We need to support each other. We are the only ones that know what it’s really like. Only another public safety professional knows how it feels to hear or watch someone else die, to hear a parent’s anguished cry as they lose their baby to SIDS or violence. To talk to a rape victim as she tries to describe what has happened to her. What about dealing with the suspect of those crimes? We have to keep our personal thoughts and anger in check while dealing with these people so as not to compromise the case. Only our public safety family knows what this is like to have to endure day after day.

We need to support each other folks. Learn the signs of stress. Don’t let your selves become overwhelmed. The typical public safety professional is wired differently than others. We are strong personalities. We want to be in control at all times. We have a need to rescue. We don’t like to admit that we need help sometimes. We fear that we will look inferior or weak to our peers. Thankfully, times are changing. There are now programs designed specifically for the public safety professional. There are trained professionals as well as peers who can and want to help us. Hopefully, you have access to a good Critical Incident Stress Management Team. There is help out there.

Meanwhile, in between the big calls we have each other. Because sometimes it’s the little calls in between the big ones that catch us off guard. A certain sound, smell or sight can easily trigger something in our subconscious that can bring back a flood of memories from calls past. Or maybe a personal tragedy or a particularly difficult call that you thought you filed away in the back of your brain. We need to understand that it can happen to anyone at any time. We need to be supportive of each other. There is so much in our careers that we cannot control. We should concentrate on the things that we can control.

We can control whether or not our profession controls us. Managers keep an eye on your people. If you notice they need a little something extra to get them through a shift, whether it be walk around the building or some time off, don’t leave it unchecked. Your employees are your most important asset. We spend so much time, money and energy in hiring and training these extraordinary people we should also make sure they remain mentally healthy as well. Just knowing that you care about their well-being will bring about better morale.

As I think back over what I have written here, I ask myself again: Why did I choose this profession? I chose this profession because I want to help people. It’s the same answer I gave myself 20 years ago.

Why do we choose public safety? You might find different answers from different people, but I think essentially we all wanted to make a difference in our community. And you know what? I think you made the right choice. You wouldn’t still be here if you didn’t. You are important. What you do is important and you make a difference. Choose to be the best you can be. Choose to keep yourself healthy. Choose to not let this job get the best of you. I know you can do it. I know you can because you are a public safety professional, and you are part of my family.

Be safe, and be healthy.

About the Author
Cindra Dunaway is a 9-1-1 dispatcher for the Lee County (Fla.) Sheriff’s Office. Contact her via e-mail at [email protected]