It's not Rocket Surgery.

On becoming a Crisis Negotiator

I sat on the dusty carpet in this guy’s living room while he barricaded himself in his bedroom.  If he was gonna shoot through the walls at us chances are he’d aim at head level. 

Predictable is preventable. 

Be on the deck before you have to hit the deck. 

Some cops took a knee.  One vet straight up plopped himself horizontal on the dust mite infested couch running the clock on his shift.  Correction.  Running the clock on his career.  

Minutes before, Oakland Police Dispatch put out a call of a suicidal person who fired a single shot in his apartment.  The caller was “refused” meaning exactly what you’re thinking. 

I’m not getting details of what suicidal guy said.  Did he threaten the refused caller?  Was that one shot the kill shot or a warning shot? 

So, whoever was available or could break away were the one’s who’d respond. 

Enter us.  I don’t remember how we got in the apartment. A handful of cops, a combination of rookie and veterans, lounging in a living room with liquor store porno magazines on the coffee table and a rated X VHS tape locked and loaded in the VCR. 

Being junior, I was volun-told to begin dialogue with the suicidal guy with a gun who was on the opposite side of this moldy sheet rock.

At one point during my 20 plus years of uniformed service, I trained with the FBI and became a Crisis Negotiator.  Part of that training was an internship at a Suicide Hotline center. 

Part one of calling a hotline is intake.  Who are you and why are you calling?  Part two is when the supervisor walks over to you and summarizes, “Okay, Norm we have a recently divorced man who’s depressed and afraid to say he wants to kill himself but he wants to kill himself.” 

Part three.  You’re on.  Save a life.  What could go wrong?

On every patrol shift someone is in crisis.  That elderly woman wandering the streets and doesn’t remember where she lives is in crisis.  The woman, victim of domestic violence, is in crisis.  The suicidal man not compliant with his meds and wants to kill himself is in crisis.  The person whose laptop was stolen from their car is in crisis. 

When I was in that apartment 25 years ago, I didn’t have those skills.  So, I talked.  When in doubt, fill dead space with words. 

“C’mon, man.  You got a lot to live for.”

As I heard the bullshit coming out my mouth, I looked over my shoulder and the porno video somehow got pushed in and “automatically” played.  The sticky magazines were traded clockwise once they were…read. 

Talk, Norm.  I remember feeling sorry for this lonely man. 

“Listen, man.  I think we all have something in common.  You don’t want us in your place and we don’t want to be here bothering you….” 

Oh shit.  He’s gonna pick up on-

“So why don’t you guys just leave?” 

OPD is committed at this point, and I have to un-fudge me poking the suicidal bear. 

If we leave and he ends himself that’s on us.  I mean that’s on me. 

If we have an open-door hallway standoff, pointing guns at the guy with the gun to his head and resolve it that way, that’s on me. 

This isn’t a criminal situation.  It’s a mental health crisis and I’m the rookie with someone’s life in their hands. 

More about me, the rookie: My mom said I didn’t start talking until I became a police officer. 

Additional fun fact:  One of my mentors put it bluntly, “Norm, your only problem is that you don’t talk.” 

Yeah.  I’m that quiet.  Voice is my last desired choice when interacting with the world and I’m the designated life saver.

Every time I spoke the cops rolled their eyes.

I launched a Hail Mary, “What do I gotta say to get you out of there safely?” 

To himself he whispered, “Please.”  I heard that.  New level unlocked. 

With my four-and-a-half-year high school diploma and “some” City College credits, I used my best academic English to craft, “Sir, please come out of your room with nothing in your hand.  I can guarantee you won’t go to jail.”

He came out.  In moments he was CCP.  Caged, cuffed and peaceful and en route to a psych facility.

I’m gonna give you the answers to the test on how to be a negotiator and wrap this up. Do as I say and not as I did.

When someone is in crisis use LEAPS.

Listen.  Empathize.  Ask.  Paraphrase.  Summarize. 

No one will remember what you said.  They’ll remember how you made them feel.  Make people feel heard and seen. 

We all think we give the greatest advice.  We’re uncertified life coaches.  We know how to fix everyone else’s problems. 

I don’t think that’s worked out for anyone. 

If LEAPS is too robotic for you try this:  Listen and erase that urge to talk and give your best life advice.  If they want your advice, they’ll ask. 

Rocket Surgery

Being a cop or a negotiator isn’t rocket surgery.  The main prerequisite is that you have to care.  It’s overwhelming to recount how many people I’ve come across who have been in crisis.  I don’t know what happened after that suicidal man was taken away 25 years ago.  I most likely botched that one but helped others.  Maybe. I know I cared.  The mantra I received from training at the suicidal hotline was making sure the person experiencing crisis was “safe for the day.” 

Imagine if we just listened to each other and tried to make another feel safe for the day.

Try it out. Let me know how that works out.