It was Mother Jones who famously gave us this battle cry: “Mourn the dead, fight like hell for the living.”
On this National Suicide Prevention Month, we remember the cherished members of our first responder family, the 9-1-1 telecommunicators, officers, deputies, EMTs, and firefighters, we have lost to mental health battles.
We remember how they fought, whether their struggle was visible or hidden. We hold the memories we made together close, and we grieve the many chapters we will never get to write with them.
But Mother Jones did not call us to only mourn.
She called us to act.
We fight, not for the dead, but for the living. We fight so we never lose another member of our family to the darkness. We fight so the names and legacies of those we have lost are not forgotten or go down in vain. We fight so we can be the difference between someone giving up and someone choosing to stay for another day, another week, another year.
If you asked any of us to name someone we have lost, I suspect many of us could share more than one name: a loved one, a friend, a mentor, a favorite coworker. Some of you reading this know that you could have been one of those names. Maybe you tried to put a period on your story months or years ago, but you are still here, still writing new chapters and choosing to live fully. By being present you honor that choice every day.
Yes, we fight for you too.
Today, during National Suicide Prevention Month, here is what I am committing to, and I hope you will join me. I am committing to fighting for the living. Here are six ways I am choosing to fight for the living, both in my close circles, virtual and physical, and in the 9-1-1 community as a whole. These are not just goals, but personal commitments that I believe can ripple outward and create real change:
1. I commit to leading with kindness and compassion in everything I do and say, even when it would be easier not to.
Sometimes, when everyone around you seems to choose hate, division, or passive aggressiveness, the natural pull is to join the crowd and cave to the anger.
The more negative voices you gather, the louder the hate will sound, but love remains the strongest force. The bravest and boldest thing you can do in a crowd is resist the negativity and choose kindness.
Before you share an opinion, ask yourself: Is it necessary for me to say this, and is it born from a spirit of compassion? Before you engage in that behavior, ask yourself where it is coming from. Is it coming from a desire to fill someone’s cup and build them up, or from an urge to set someone up for a terrible day?
2. I commit to actively countering negativity whenever and wherever I see it, because silence allows it to grow.
It is not enough to simply avoid participating in a culture of negativity. What are you doing to help change it or to counter it before it becomes the norm?
Silence can serve as a strong endorsement of toxic behavior, almost like giving it an official stamp of approval. Passive silence or toxic neutrality provides a breeding ground for hate to continue and spread throughout an entire workplace.
Remember the “See something, say something” campaign? That phrase was originally tied to terrorism awareness, but the truth is that it applies far more broadly. It can be just as effective in addressing workplace bullying, harassment, hate, and divisive language or actions. If you see negativity in action, say something, do something, tell a supervisor, but don’t just ignore it.
Refusing to acknowledge the problem will never make it go away.
3. I commit to shutting down hate and choosing to be the difference in moments when it matters most.
We see it all the time on social media, often in comment sections, and sadly, we encounter it in the workplace too: a harsh word or a destructive criticism spoken or typed in haste.
Feelings are hurt. People shut down or shrink back because that moment of hate sent a clear message that someone does not think they matter, or that their perspectives do not matter.
What if we made it the norm to shut down hateful messages and refuse to tolerate people bashing our profession, our fellow first responders, or even our callers?
What if, instead, we made encouragement and respect the standard so that everyone feels valued and supported?
Just imagine the difference it would make to the overwhelming barrage of self-hate we sometimes see being promoted on social media.
4. I commit to remembering that depression and burnout are nothing to laugh at.
If it is not something you would proudly attach your name and face to, then it is not worth sharing. Think about how often, in our profession and in the public safety community at large, we lightly promote suicidal ideation, drug or alcohol abuse, or unhealthy trauma responses under the guise of “dark humor” or “keeping it real.”
We joke about the scars we carry, we lean into jadedness and cynicism, and we shame or ridicule others when they try to offer more optimistic views of the world. We post jokes or memes that continually cast our profession in a dark light and gloss over deeper issues like burnout, depression, and compassion fatigue with misguided laughter, rather than addressing where the pain is truly coming from or working to heal it.
This is not healthy coping; this is masking at its worst.
5. I commit to using my voice and my platforms to uplift this profession and the people who make 9-1-1 what it is today.
Our work is too important to be mocked recklessly or torn down carelessly. In many popular online communities, forums, and Facebook groups, everything we post is seen not only by 9-1-1 professionals but also by other public sector groups and citizens.
In 2025, everything we do and say either paints 9-1-1 in the best light or diminishes us in the hearts and minds of those who are watching and listening.
Now more than ever, we must commit to carrying ourselves, both in and out of uniform, in positive, proactive, and productive ways that showcase the values and ethics of this profession we signed up to uphold.
Our voices are so powerful; let’s commit to using them to praise each other and uplift the worthy work that we do.
6. I commit to changing the narrative for the next generation of telecommunicators
There is no neutral zone here. Either we are working to change what is broken, or we are quietly choosing to let it stay the same.
Some of us are not who we are today because of people who fought for us, but in spite of those who did not. Maybe we fought for ourselves, for our self-respect, our sanity, our wellness, and our place in this profession.
But who is fighting for the new people these days?
There is someone on the brink right now, someone who may be looking for a reason just to find the strength or the motivation to show up for another shift. No one should ever have to wonder if they would be missed if they were gone.
These are the promises I hold myself to, not because I will always do them perfectly, but because the fight for the living demands that we try. If each of us leans into even one of these commitments, the impact on our circles and our profession can be powerful and long-lasting.
