Police Academy

B.V.S.T. 28 was known as the special needs class.  Basic Visitor Services Training, as they called the police academy classes in Parks were held at the William Penn Mott Training Center at Asilomar State Beach.  The facilities were part of the conference center run by a concessionaire.  We lived in hotel rooms with maid service and a fireplace in a downstairs day room. 

It was hard to say how we became the special needs class.  We were the last class for the testing done in February, 2003.  That meant, as someone in the class before us indelicately put it, we were the bottom of the barrel.  The classes were put together based on overall scores.  I had originally been scheduled for BVST 27 but the delay from my psych test knocked me back to 28.  We were all in the situation of either being at the bottom of the scoring or having something that delayed our starting.  One cadet had diabetes and had fought the bureaucracy to have his application accepted. 

There were 29 of us.  We were bright, almost all college graduates, a few had AA degrees which they had worked hard to get.  We were teachers, park aides, State clerks, and people who had held one job or another but still hadn’t found the job they wanted.  Our class also had four Fish and Game Warden cadets.  We ranged in age from 21 to three of us in our 50s.  The majority of the cadets were around 30 years old.   One of the older guys was a former banker like myself and the other had worked for an airline. 

The thorough background check done on all of us assured that we were honest and people of outstanding integrity.  The Academy is the only place I’ve ever been where I could leave a pen on my desk in the afternoon and come back the next morning and get it.  Even cash lost was recovered and an attempt made to return it to the owner.  There were no thieves and no liars amongst us.  If we were the bottom of the barrel, it was an outstanding barrel.    

State Parks runs a very good Academy.  It is the same P.O.S.T., Peace Officers Standard Training, that all police officers in California, LAPD, Highway Patrol, sheriffs, municipalities, counties, state and special agencies go through.  It was a 21 week course and had an academic component along with physical training, arms training and police procedures.  The material wasn’t that hard by itself but the sheer volume of it packed into a short period and the intentional stress put on the cadets by the system and the trainers, made it a very grueling five months.  The academic part was geared to a high school graduate and the physical training to someone in reasonably good shape.  The physical training was the easiest part of all.  I think most of us welcomed it as an enjoyable challenge and a stress relief from the rest of the program.      

In spite of all the potential it had, BVST 28 turned out to be one of the worst group experiences I’ve ever had.  My expectations were that it would be like basic training or mountaineering where a disparate group of people came together and accomplished a difficult task by helping each other and developing a team spirit.  It turned out to be an ordeal where each of us survived in our own way.  We never came together as a group and in fact, the 20 of us who graduated six months later, all of us seemed to be relieved to be done with it and fled the scene as soon as it was over.  Parks added an extra month to the academy for interpretive training, At the end there seemed to be a general feeling of embarrassment of what we had become, like the survivors in William Goldings novel, the Lord of the Flies, we didn’t want to be reminded of it.  It was something to be put behind us.  As a group we’ve never made any attempt to get together or even connect on the internet.  We were fragmented into various cliques and while everyone tried to belong one way or another most of us were on the outs.  Instead of being a bonding experience, it was more like a junior high experience, something we were all relieved to be done with.    

It was hard to say what went wrong.  It was basically a very good group of people  We were honest, we had character, we were a specially selected group of people with really superior talents and motivation.  In my opinion, there was one bad apple among us, not bad for a group of 30, and a few weak links also not a bad number for any group.  It was certainly a group that given the right circumstances should have been a good experience for everyone who could survive the challenge. 

I recently had lunch with a superintendent and we talked about my class and his experience in the academy.  He attributed the lack of cohesion to a failure in leadership and I think there’s something to that.  There were two Cadet Training Officers, one of whom was very well liked and supportive, but the other was distant and hard on us and himself.  Our first crisis as a class was an alcohol incident.  Alcohol was banned in the Park for cadets.  We could walk a 150 yards to a local pub outside the Park.  Behind the pub was a picnic area that they didn’t mind if cadets brought their own and consumed it there.  Six weeks into the program it was discovered that some of the cadets were openly consuming alcohol in the dorms.  The Training Officer called each of us in and reminded us we were bound by an honor code to reveal what we knew. 

The so called honor code we were held to was based on a few minutes of paperwork that had been part of the blizzard of paperwork in the first week.  It had never been explained and there had never been a real commitment to it by the group, so no one was protected by any group agreement of transparency, a minimum requirement for any honor code to work. 

In my uncomfortable interview I admitted I had seen a particular cadet take a six pack of beer to his room, but I had never seen him consume it. At the end of the so called investigation we seemed to fall into two groups, conspirators and snitches, but no one could be sure who was which, just suspicions.  Somehow a squabble between two roommates got mixed into it and one of the roommates, one of the alleged snitches, was a lesbian and some of the offended cadets grumbled she shouldn’t even be in the class.  One of the Training Officers, a female, was very apparently a lesbian.  In law enforcement in general and in Parks as well more than the usual number of women among the Rangers were openly lesbian.  On the other hand in law enforcement gay men are almost never out.  Our class probably had one or two gay men in the closet and that added to the tension and one of the leading homophobes against the woman as to be expected had his own issues. 

So we divided into the drinking crowd and the non-drinkers, the cool people and the uncool people, snitches and conspirators.  Some of the younger cadets had problems with those of us who were older, especially me, it seemed.  Maybe I had a problem being older.  I don’t know. 

In my experience even all of this shouldn’t have derailed us.  Differences and problems to be overcome are not unusual in group dynamics and often are part of the challenge the group overcomes.  I guess in our case there were just too many differences, character, age, geography, education, orientation, basic attitudes, even departments, and in my opinion it was exacerbated by bad leadership.  We fractured and then we fractured again and again.  We never came together as a group. 

I started the classes excited about the subject material and threw myself into it.  Our first real classes we had two deputy district attorneys teaching it.  I was excited to have them in the classroom to learn from and grill.  While everyone in the academy did well academically, it quickly became apparent that a number of cadets thought any enthusiasm for the classes was an attempt to show them up and the tone of the classes became competitive with penalties for being enthusiastic about it.  A clique of young people studied together but they seemed to exclude everyone else in a paranoid attempt to look better themselves.   

We studied 40 domains as they were called.  There were sections on traffic enforcement, sex crimes, constitutional guarantees, search methods, everything a rookie police officer needed to know before going in the field.  The classes in law were taught by the deputy district attorneys for Monterey County.  Other classes were taught by Rangers who had become experts in the field and police officers from other agencies like the Highway Patrol, Carmel Police Department and Gilroy.  The material and the classes were not too easy but also not very hard.  What made it hard was the relentlessness of it, week after week, we sat in the classroom for eight hours with short breaks and a lunch break and learned one unit after another. 

When we completed a unit there was a test.  POST requires that the test be passed with a 70% score.  Parks required 80%.  The additional stress of physical training, and the minutia of barracks life, and the academic part which wasn’t in itself hard became stressful.  We had done the same thing for Juvenile POST class, but that extra 10% and the other stresses hadn’t been there.  If you failed a test, you had to retest and if you failed that, you were out of the class.  Our diabetes cadet, a teacher, failed out on a test four of us had to retake. 

It was a week where everything seemed to go wrong.  The section was on Sex Crimes against Minors and it was all about relationships and ages.  The test was loaded with detail and four of us got less than the 80% required.  As a group we decided to retake the test that Friday instead of waiting over the weekend and taking it Monday.  Everything happened that week and there wasn’t enough time to study enough.  At the retesting I still didn’t know the material.  We had a very difficult hour waiting for the results.  No one was confident of passing and Lars, our teacher and diabetic, didn’t.  He was a big loss.  Everyone liked him, he had been one of the cadets who pulled us together. 

In those first few weeks, we lost a Warden cadet who had been too far away from school for too long.  We lost Lars and another cadet who was trying to split his attention between a new wife and the academy.  Alvin chose the wife.  At the end of a couple of months one of the older cadets was let go.  Red was strong but his joints were stiff and he didn’t have flexibility in his hands and wrists.  The defensive tactics training, police judo, was hard for him.  His attitude was they had to pass him and they didn’t. 

I did finish the course, I got a lot of support from Al Pepito and other people in the program but Bill Delasin was my training officer and his write-ups and manner were always very negative. 

Later in the course we had anonymous evaluations by our peers, another ill conceived and executed move that fractured us further.  Many of the evaluations were poison pen notes.   One critique of me particularly criticized my anti-abortion stance, I happen to be pro-choice, based on a question I had once asked.  Another classmate had her weight criticized and denigrated

We never worked together as a class and a cool people clique formed and they helped each other but seemed to think the rest of us should not be there.  It all had a junior high school feel to it.  There was a junior high cynicism and bias against taking the classes seriously.   One classmate who was probably the slowest in the group was made a hero for being a fool.  He bloomed under the attention and showed a good sense of humor.  He was voted the class valedictorian even though he wasn’t close to being at the top of the class.  One of my guests wondered what was he doing speaking for the class, but he was the cool group’s mascot.

I felt isolated and alone.  In my sixth grade John McAdam was the misfit in our class.  John wasn’t particularly bright and he was overweight.  He was desperate for friendship and didn’t have any friends.  He didn’t fit in.  He was the brunt of jokes and teasing.  Everything he did seemed to reinforce his not belonging.  I felt like the John McAdam of our class. 

I didn’t have any real friends among my classmates.  The one friend I had made was too wrapped up in her own world and her problems to be much help.  As scenarios approached it really became an issue.  Scenarios, going through realistic situations with actors, where we had demonstrate a knowledge of procedure and law, couldn’t be practiced alone and the cliques practiced together and excluded the rest of us.    

I was desperate and I sought out Denis Poole, the other cadet my age.  He agreed to practice with me and we began working together.  Thank god.  My friendship with Denis was the only way I made it through the Academy.  For some reason, Denis and I hadn’t connected before.  He lived not too far away and didn’t stay at Asilomar except when he needed to study.  At the end of April we began practicing for scenarios together.  Denis and I have been good friends ever since.  In a recent conversation, Denis said he didn’t trust anyone in that class.  Now that I think about it, I need to confirm with Denis that I was the exception.  Certainly since that experience Denis is one of my most trusted friends today. 

The training itself was challenging and enjoyable.  Our daily routine was physical training before breakfast three days a week, long runs, sprints, and  various exercises to get us ready for the physical test that was part of the academy experience including leaping a six foot wall on the run.  That was a challenge for almost all us but could be accomplished by having the right attitude and using the flow of your body as you hit the wall.  Even for the short people, using their own momentum could get them over the wall easily.  It was typical of these tests that at the end, when we had practiced on a smooth wall, the actual test was done on a wall with a small chink in it that could be used as a step. 

The other universal element that everyone dreaded was the pepper spray in the eyes.  It added to the feeling that some of the training was just plain hazing that all California police officers shared to become part of the fraternity.  The academy started in January and in April we received our training for pepper spray and tear gas.  We walked through buildings full of gas that made it hard to breathe and brought tears to our eyes.  At the end of the day, we waited in the classroom for our turn to go outside and be sprayed.  When my turn came I stood for a moment outside the classroom with my back to the wall.  When I stood at the wall, the Ranger asked me my name and when I looked up to give it to her, she sprayed me square in the eyes.  She was good at it and it hurt. 

Pepper spray  on your skin burns like hell and particularly burns in your eyes.  I had seen it done at the San Jose Police Academy we shared at Evergreen College.  There the cadets were pepper sprayed and then ran to a tub of water and washed their eyes out as soon as they could.  Typical of our academy, since we had a reputation for being warm and fuzzy, they made it harder.  Before we could wash our eyes out we had to handcuff a trainer using proper defensive tactics methods.  So for as long as it took for the pepper spray to wear off enough to think and act clearly we just stood there and suffered through it.  . 

Some of the cadets were in huge pain.  One of my friends began shaking uncontrollably as he wept his eyes out.  The people with lighter skin and lighter eyes suffered the most.  My mother used to make chili sauce when I was young and it seemed frequently the essence of it got in the air and burned our eyes and if we touched anything it seemed to get on our skin and then in our eyes as well.  I make chili sauce myself and sometimes forget to wash the oil off before I touch my eyes.  I’ve felt the burn and I knew the best thing to do is to keep my eyes open, not to touch them and to let the active ingredient oxidize.  I had a very bad 10 minutes and then was able to handcuff the trainer and go and take a shower.  The shower was painful but eventually I was able to wash my eyes out. 

Some of my classmates took a half hour or more to be able to handcuff the trainer.  They closed their eyes because it felt like it helped but in fact made the whole process take longer.    

The rationale for the pepper spray is that if we use it we need to know how it feels.  Someone asked, “Does that mean you’re going to shoot us next?”  In fact, it seems to me it is just a rite of passage that all cops share and afterwards we get to laugh about it together.  It’s sanctioned hazing and it works.     

I was surprised the whole physical part of the program was easy.  I was in good shape.  I’ve tried to stay in good shape most of my adult life.  I was a jogger and a runner, a mountaineer and a cyclist.  We ran about 12 miles a week and did strengthening exercises.  It was fun.  I managed to stay right in the middle of our class, coming in about 10^th overall.  The three mile runs became competitions.   The Tigers ran out front but there were plenty of us in the middle to compete against each other. 

I heard Jim Nelson comment one time that he felt OK as long as he stayed ahead of me.  The next run, I stayed right with him, and half way through he realized we were racing.  He kept trying to get me to lead and I kept dogging him, if I went ahead I went slower than he wanted to run.  At the last half mile I took off and left Jim in my dust beating him by a good 200 yards or more.  I loved it.  We did a rematch and I stayed with him but at the end of the rematch I didn’t try as hard.  I don’t know if Jim found his win as satisfying.  I loved mine.  I repeated this experience later with a Ranger at Mount Diablo and it was just as satisfying then. 

Besides the other academic training, hours and hours in the classroom with frequent testing where each test had to be passed or be terminated, we had basic medical training.  I particularly enjoyed the EMR, Emergency Medical Responder, training.  I found the physiology challenging and interesting.  It was a large section and took more than a week.  It was very involved and included practical tests, splinting, taking vital signs, bandaging and all the elements of advanced first aid.  The first few times in the field I was very unsure of myself with accident victims, there was always another Ranger that would arrive on the scene as a backup, but after awhile I developed a real competence in emergency medical treatment and a year after the Academy I even went through additional training to become an EMT, an Emergency Medical Technician. 

It was a grueling five months and the last step were the scenarios that we had to do.  We went out to Fort Ord, a decommissioned military base in Monterey.  We waited in a classroom and then were called out to various calls.  We drove in a police car to each station; domestic violence, robbery, burglary, felony arrests, sexual assault,  mentally deranged and one with live fire with paper wad loads.  A  sniper opened up on me with an AR-15 in what started as a medical call.  I fired back with my Smith and Wesson pistol, paper charges.  I wasn’t hit myself.  I thought maybe the trainer wasn’t that good a shot, but one of my classmates had a pattern of hits on his chest.  The sniper, a Ranger, was very accurate.  I think in immediately firing back I put the sniper off balance long enough for me to get to cover.    

The other scenarios used actors and Rangers who really got into it and we were passed or failed on following procedures and handling the situations.  It involved all of our classroom learning and using our defensive tactics.  It was extraordinarily stressful but I managed to pass all the scenarios with only one that I had to repeat or remediate as they called it.  I was able to do it the same day and pass the remediation. 

My friend Denis had to remediate three the next day.  We had two remediations for each scenario before we were out and Denis was on his last, but he also managed to pass all the remediations.  In fact, our whole class, those who were still with us, managed to pass.  It was the last test on the Friday before Memorial Day and we finished the POST part of the academy.  The last month was Park training for Interpretation and there was no stress to that.  It was a good class but not especially hard.   

Michael Greene was the instructor.  I think he was frustrated with some of us, because we didn’t take the class as seriously as he thought we should.  I was exhausted and didn’t put much effort into the last month.  The training was excellent and I learned it and incorporated it into the interpretation I did in the years afterwards, but Michael wanted us to be extroverts and flamboyant about it and that wasn’t my style.  I can do that and sometimes do, but I didn’t rise to the occasion at Asilomar.  And the weekend I should have put into my presentation I went to my eldest son’s wedding in New Mexico.  My final presentation was adequate.

On July 1^st, 2005 we were sworn in as State Park Rangers.  It was an incredibly satisfying accomplishment.  The last weekend before graduation one of our classmates had been arrested for driving under the influence.  He didn’t report it to the training officers and on Tuesday before graduation Mike was terminated for not having reported a negative police contact as required by the department.  It was a sad event, Mike had been one of the bridge cadets who got along with everyone, but it was the way our class had gone.  Also Bill Delasin showed up at the graduation dressed in civilian clothes without a badge or a weapon.  Bill had always worn his uniform and weapon.  He wouldn’t say why, but he said he was no longer a police officer.  We never learned why but whatever it was, it had been going on for some time, either a medical issue or a violation of the conduct required of peace officers.  It partially explained to me why Bill had been so negative to me.  I think it seemed unfair to him that I was becoming a Ranger at 58 and he was being forcibly retired in his 40s.

We left and as a group seemed to be glad to be done with each other.  There was no group feeling even at graduation.  We all seemed a little embarrassed being together.  We went our separate ways and I’ve only stayed in contact with a couple of people.  Twice when I’ve visited Parks where classmates were Rangers, our exchanges have been very warm, even though both times they were members of the inner clique.  Maybe the whole thing was in my head but I don’t think so. 

I am very proud of having completed a full police academy and I learned in the experience but it didn’t include much personal satisfaction with the group.  I survived, I got a badge and earned the right to train as a police officer in the field and I’m very proud of that.  I’m just sorry that we’ve never been able to share that accomplishment as a class. 

All of the training at the academy was just preparation for training in the field.  I went to Mount Diablo State Park east of San Francisco and my Field Training Officer was Cameron Morrison, an experienced Ranger and one of the most knowledgeable people I’ve every worked with.  For 90 days Cameron and I worked together as a team and in fact the rules which we followed rigidly required that whenever I was in the field armed and badged, that Cameron and I be together. 

The things I learned in the academy we did for real in the field.  We did traffic stops, wrote tickets, chased a drunk at high speed and even made an arrest.  At first Cameron led but then I began to take the lead and Cameron watched and critiqued.  It was not easy, but Cameron’s attitude was so positive that there was little doubt I would pass.  Two of our classmates did fail the Field Training. 

Field Training lasted 90 days and then another 9 months of probation during which I had regular training and support. 

The first day showing up to work actually wearing a loaded pistol and a badge was an amazing experience and after 90 days being in the field by myself most of the time wearing the pistol and badge was again a very unsettling and ominous feeling.  It took a year to get used to wearing a gun.  I don’t think any of us ever take it for granted and I was always aware of it but it did become routine and I became used to people’s reaction to an armed and badged police officer. 

I loved being a cop.  It was a great experience.  I got to work with incredible people and I enjoyed the respect and admiration of citizens when I did my job well.