The Wearing Of Hats

As a police officer I value my privacy above all else and jealously guard it. Maybe you’re the same way. But one Sunday morning I was faced with the dilemma of choosing between what I valued and what I believed.

People Were Dying

In 2016 the opioid crisis was starting to peak and our city was experiencing a spike in overdose deaths. People were dying from heroin and fentanyl on an almost daily basis. Federal funding began trickling down to pay for overtime to start chipping away at the increasing volume of investigations we were being inundated with. Families wanted answers and everyone wanted the dealers held accountable. As an investigator I had the opportunity to start taking on overdose cases, so that’s what I did.

It was literally the next day after I volunteered to take on those cases I was assigned my first overdose death. The victim was a 20 year old kid who had his whole life ahead of him, and it was sad. He died alone in a very unglamorous place, his body discovered by a total stranger.

Where It Led

The investigation led me to his best friend, Wilson*, who he was supposed to have been with last. That led to interviews with both Wilson and his girlfriend. Not surprisingly, Wilson was also struggling with addiction. They initially didn’t want to talk to me, but I was — to put it nicely — persistent. When we finally spoke in a formal interview I learned that as a last ditch effort to save Wilson from relapsing, his girlfriend had told the victim to stay away, knowing that if they got together it was to get high. I was able to confirm Wilson and his girlfriend’s story that the victim had never shown up and they had nothing to do with his death.

Like any investigation, I moved on from there and continued to pull on the string to see where it would lead.

Three Weeks Later

I was raised in a Christian home and have been going to church as long as I can remember. God, faith, the Bible, Heaven, Hell — all of it — is not something I ever blindly accepted, but adopted as my own after a lot of trial, error, doubt, and debate. All that to say I believe what the Bible says and still attend church when my schedule allows.

I don’t live or go to church in the city where I work, and that’s by design. Like I said, I value my privacy. One Sunday morning I was sitting in church with my wife and three kids with the cares of my job far from my mind. It was like any other Sunday — the same people sitting in the same seats, the same songs, the same offering plate, the same routine. Music played like always as the service ended, and that’s when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see who it was and it was Wilson, his girlfriend, and their baby. It was the last thing I expected.

I Never Do This

I hesitated, I know I did. Perhaps imperceptibly on the outside, but on the inside was a lot going on. It was like I was falling to my death and my life was flashing before my eyes. It’s probably only milliseconds in reality, but a lot happens in that flash of time.

What was the right thing to do? If it was any other visitor at church, how was I to treat them? How would God want me to treat them? The answer was obvious, but the choice was hard. I had 15 years of law enforcement experience bearing down on me and all the cynicism that goes with it ringing alarm bells and firing off warning shots in my head that this was a threat to my family, my privacy, and maybe even my safety. The beliefs I held of how I was supposed to treat people was in direct conflict with the way I valued my privacy. There was no in between, I had to decide what I was going to do.

So I did what I never thought I’d do, I shook his hand, welcomed him, and introduced him to my family. I was so far from my comfort zone I’d need a map to get back. It had to have been God because the me I know wouldn’t have done that. It’s also the first and only time something like this has happened in my 19 year career.

Things Happen for a Reason

One thing led to another and my wife and I got involved in his life, his girlfriend’s life, and his baby’s. We coached them, counseled them, and tried to be good examples, all while walking a fine line between my personal and professional life. The last six years have of it been up and down, awkward and frustrating, rewarding and fulfilling, good and not so good, and one massive learning curve.

So far there’s been no big success story, for him or for me. It actually feels very far from that. But everything happens for a reason, and apart from Providence it all resulted from the hats we wore that broke down the barriers between us.

The Wearing of Hats

I didn’t realize it at the time, but in hindsight it’s easier for me to be objective about what actually happened that day, about what was different.

That Sunday morning I was wearing my husband hat, my dad hat, my going-to-church-with-the-family hat. I wasn’t wearing my police hat. And Wilson, he was wearing his just-a-guy-trying-to-figure-things-out-and-church-seemed-like-a-good-idea hat. He wasn’t wearing his drug user hat and all the other hats that go with it. He didn’t go there looking for me, but there we were, coincidentally sitting mere feet from each other. He was miles from home and out of his routine but I had never left mine. With our other selves somewhere else we were together under different circumstances and in a different place. We both had on different hats and it changed the way things played out.

The hats we wear are roles we play, not who we exclusively are. The hats change often and even imperceptibly. Our lives are filled with constant transitions — from husband to father, father to son, son to brother, boss to friend, and so on. We are all of those things at different times, in different places, and with different people. Most of us have many hats that include personal, professional, and relational roles. The hat we wear in any given situation can make things better or worse, easier or more difficult, so we must be ever conscious of which one we are wearing and why. Sometimes we wear the wrong hat at the wrong time — we put on our police hat when we should be wearing our husband hat, dad hat, or neighbor hat.

Possibilities

As police officers we encounter all walks of life, all kinds of people, who also wear all kinds of hats. What could happen if we took off our police hat and put a different one on? Could we be more, do more, connect more, empathize more, be more patient, more kind, more effective at our jobs and in our lives?

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not talking about throwing officer safety out the window or carelessly putting ourselves in bad situations. I’m not even talking about putting yourself in someone else’s shoes. I’m talking about putting yourself in the mindset, the attitude, the role best suited for the circumstance, both on duty and off. Sometimes people need a coach, or a son, or a cancer survivor, or a veteran, or whatever life experience or background you have, more than they need a cop.

The cool thing is that you are a variety of roles mixed together, designed by God to be the best fit for that certain person in your path. Pick the right hats for the right reasons at the right moments and you might be surprised at the results.

__________________________

• How does your role (the hat your wear) impact your response to people or circumstances?
• If you were in a different role how could that change your response?
• Are you self-aware of the role you are in at any given moment?
• How can you get better at wearing the right hats at the right times?

__________________________

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*Not his real name