They say life is the sum of our choices, and as overly simple as that might sound, it rings with truth. Our lives are built from the choices we make every day, both conscious and subconscious. The intentional ones we make proactively and with forethought, and the ones we make in response to other people’s decisions.
Our lives are just as much shaped by the consequences of those choices as they are by the outcomes of our reactions.
If that’s true, then how much time and effort are we really putting into making sure those choices align with where we want our lives to go, and the legacy we want to leave behind?
There’s a song by Toby Keith, inspired by a conversation he had with the legendary actor and director, Clint Eastwood, called Don’t Let the Old Man In. The idea came from something Clint said about how he approaches aging.
He shared that every day he wakes up, he makes a conscious decision not to let the old man in.
That thought burrowed into my mind one early morning at work. It broke through the usual static in my head and planted seeds of wonder in the quieter corners of my brain.
Throughout our lives and careers, especially in this field, what steps do we take, sometimes unknowingly, that lead us not only to invite the “old man” or “old woman” into our hearts but also to embrace them?
I remember my early years in 9-1-1. People would often compliment my cheerful nature and my pleasant voice, both on the phone and on the radio.
During my night shift years in particular, I constantly heard how rare it was that I managed to keep my energy and my smile through the entire shift. Those observations continued over the years, though back when I was starting out, someone would always say something like, “Well, you haven’t been a dispatcher all that long yet. Let’s see if you can keep that up the longer you do this job.”
Now, 10 years beneath the headset, I have worked hard to hold on to that same love and passion for this job, like it’s still Year One for me.
Part of that is because I still genuinely find joy in this work, even in the hard moments.
It’s also because I quietly promised myself back then that I would never let that prediction come true. I didn’t write it down or even say it out loud, but I meant it. I would not lose the spark. I would protect the wide-eyed awe and imagination I started with.
So I ask you this, at whatever stage you are in your career, whether it’s been 20 years, 10 years, 5 years, or you’re just a few days away from putting fresh ink on the paperwork that ties you to this new life behind the gold line”
What can you do to not let the “old dispatcher” in?
What are the small, intentional choices you can make each day to hold on to that spark?
You’d be surprised by how quietly, unintentionally, and subtly we make the careless choices and slowly lose ourselves over to the person we never wanted to become.
Have You Let the Old Dispatcher In?
Remember what used to bring you warmth and satisfaction in this job?
When did that start to fade? Why?
And more importantly, how can you reclaim it before it slips away for good?
Why does it have to be something you look back on with nostalgia, something you used to love, like the satisfaction of what your work accomplishes, the people, the mission?
You don’t have to leave it in the past. You can have that Year One passion again, even in Year Fifteen.
When did it become the norm for our passion for this job to fade over time?
When did we start accepting the idea that we should naturally lose the spark and enthusiasm we had when we first started?
I’ve often heard some telecommunicators describe becoming jaded as if it’s a badge of honor that comes with experience and years in the seat, as though it’s something expected of working in public safety. But being jaded doesn’t mean you’re good at this job.
“Being burnt out and constantly “over it” with callers, “fed up” with your officers, and “sick and tired” of your coworkers doesn’t have to be your daily default.”
Every caller who sounds a little agitated or annoyed about having to call 9-1-1 in the first place isn’t a jerk.
Remember when those mildly frustrated callers who told you they hated your guts used to roll right off your back, and you didn’t let them ruin your day? What changed?
Every call that doesn’t go as planned or doesn’t have the outcome we hoped for doesn’t have to be the reason we feel hopeless for the rest of the day.
“Remember when you knew that, even if every call didn’t go your way and even if you never got a thank-you at the end, your work still mattered? You mattered. Well, guess what? You still matter.”
Have You Let the Old Coworker In?
What do people see when they see you coming?
A question I recently asked in a class I was teaching was, “What comes to mind if I start a sentence with: Every 9-1-1 center has that one…”
What did you think of?
Did you picture, “Every 9-1-1 center has that one… ray of sunshine?”
Or maybe that one “beacon of positivity,” or that one “breath of fresh air?”
If that’s what came to mind, I’d have to ask you, really, just one?
But I can almost bet my whole paycheck that’s not what you thought of.
You probably thought of something like, “Every 9-1-1 center has that one… toxic person.”
That one “dark, wet blanket on every shift.” That one “Squidward” who manages to drain the joy and optimism from the room. Right? Much like the old “your momma” jokes, we rarely assume anything good is going to follow the phrase, “Every center has that one…”
Why is that considered okay?
Why does there have to be a “that one” at all?
Why are we accepting that “Squidward” on our shift?
Or, if you’re being honest with yourself, why might you be that person?
“It’s so easy to wake up one day and not even realize that you’ve somehow let “the old man or woman” in. “
You became the coworker that people dread seeing walk through the door, the one they associate with bitterness, resentment, and passive-aggressiveness. Every other 9-1-1 call you take; you find yourself getting angry or raising your voice at the caller. Every other radio transmission sounds like you’re spitting it out through clenched teeth. It feels like everyone in the world, including their mom, dad, aunt, and uncle, is giving you grief, when in reality, the only common denominator is you. It’s easy to let “the old, bitter, angry coworker” slip in before you even notice.
“It might be masking something deeper, like secondary trauma you haven’t resolved, calls you can’t unhear, or the simple fact that you are not okay because compassion fatigue has taken its toll.”
You might not even recognize the person you’ve become, but everyone else does. That is where you are, and that is who you are now to your coworkers, your supervisors, and your administration.
What are You Going to Do About it?
I return now to my original question, “What are the small, intentional choices you can make each day to hold on to that spark?
In an industry where we hear and encounter negativity all the time – choose to find hope in the pockets of sunshine and joy that are still out there.
They’re all around us, every single day. Tiny blessings and small reasons to smile. Not every call is a downer.
Learn to laugh again. Laugh at yourself, at the funny moments life throws your way, at the frequent flyer who somehow ended up on your line for the eighth time that week and wants to play a piano solo for you over the phone.
Sometimes we tell ourselves that we don’t have time to laugh or have fun in this job, but we do. Not always, in spite of the job either, but because of it too. If you have PTO and you’re able to use it, then use it. Use it to finally do that thing you’ve been thinking about for the longest time. Use it for yourself. Spend it on the things you love and enjoy most. Read that book. Take that yoga class. Catch up with those college friends you’ve been meaning to reconnect with. Call the person who makes you feel like you can just be yourself, and talk about anything but work. Rest. Get some real sleep, and try to make your PTO not only restful, but also meaningful and productive for you.
If there are calls you can’t unhear, understand that carrying them alone is not part of the job description. You deserve to go to sleep at night without waking up at 2 a.m. with that call playing on a loop in your head.
Reach out to a trusted supervisor. Ask for help. Seek support. Talk to someone. EAP exists for you.
“You carry burdens all the time that you were never meant to bear alone. But you are not a burden to anyone because you choose to call EAP. You are not weak for needing any kind of help. Please use it.”
Finally, for all the bitter calls you could spend all day complaining about, make sure you are also taking time to reflect on the good ones, the positive outcomes, the calls where the need was met, the damage was minimized, or the situation was safely defused. It does not always have to be about babies being born or lives saved through CPR. It could be the lost and confused elderly resident you stayed on the line with until officers arrived and guided them home. It could be the distraught and panicked teen who crashed their car for the first time and you calmly walked them through the questions, reassured them that help was on the way, and gave clear instructions on where to wait for officers to take a report. Maybe it was the two neighbors bickering over some property line issue when you hear someone mention something about a rifle coming out of the house and you patiently convinced the caller you were on the line with to separate themselves from the other neighbor. Those moments matter just as much.
Every day, in every way, make those intentional small choices to not let the old dispatcher in. You’ll be better for it, and so will everyone around you too.
