Mentor and Executioner: The Burdens of a Training Officer

Photo courtesy Indianapolis (IN) Fire PIO As our training academy finished its seventh recruit class in six years, I stood on the stage watching 36 successful fire recruits come up to have their cap presented by our chief, to formally and officially become probationary firefighters. I was flooded with emotions: confusion, pride, worry, joy, and even a little jealousy. I started a full‑time fire position in late 2007 with my current fire department, and remember having the exact same feelings when I was accepting my cap, but now these feelings were hitting a bit different. Training divisions are sometimes seen as separate from operations, leading to a misconception that training officers are no longer part of the front‑line fire service family. That mindset needs to change. Strong training builds strong firefighters. If we expect high standards, we must be willing to step up and be part of the solution. If Not You, Then Who? If you’re going to complain compare and criticize, then step up and step into the positions that your voice will be heard and help hold the standard from further erosion—and even push back against complacency (thank you, Corley Moore ). If not, you are just furthering the current problem with complacency. Because you are a part of the problem. Bring solutions when you voice concerns. Without solutions, you’re just complaining! Change is made from the top down??? NAW! I believe change is made from the bottom up—generational change. The Position of the Training Officer Training officers serve the firefighters. Firefighters service the public. I am there to help make our recruits successful, to help them achieve what our department deems to be minimum standard. I am there for them. They are my purpose. Training them to the best of my abilities is doing the service I swore to do for our public—which is our purpose and duty. I also view it as the last part of the recruitment period. Unfit individuals who do not meet a standard will be eventually let go. I have a responsibility to the people—both our citizens and those on the trucks—to get these recruits to an acceptable level of skill knowledge and safety. Training is more than checking boxes—it’s about setting expectations, fostering resilience, and ensuring that only those who meet the required standards move forward. This is not about exclusion but about maintaining the integrity of the fire service and protecting the people we serve. Some recruits may not complete the program, but that is not failure—it is an acknowledgment that this career demands a specific level of readiness and commitment. I must coach and referee simultaneously. I am the mentor and the executioner. The Proving Ground I let them know when they come into training that they are not part of our fire family (much to the dismay of some members). They are like the individuals who are dating my daughter. You may have a toe in the door but you’re not welcome to eat at my table until you prove your worth, in this case by demonstrating skills and knowledge. Further, you will not have my blessing officially binging you into the fold until you’ve finished your probationary period. Not everyone makes it through the program, either via self‑selection or by not being able to meet any one of our many standards. Like the motto of Green Beret training officers: “We don’t fail you; you fail you.” Training officers must provide honest feedback. We rob recruits of opportunities for growth if the students are not aware of where they are sitting within the program whether they are meeting your expectations. I tell my students that I don’t care about their feelings when giving feedback but then provide some context—I care about them as individuals and human beings, but I don’t care if they are shocked or saddened to hear they are not doing well. The only way to fix an issue is to first recognize that there is one. This is sometimes hard and it does not get easier to convey such a message, but we must bring honesty, truth, and suggestions for improvement. I will never give up on any individual that needs or seeks my help, but we all encounter individuals who will fail, regardless of how much they want it or how hard they try. That is a good thing. This job is not for everyone, or not for everyone at this point in their lives. The idea that we can turn anyone into a firefighter is as ridiculous as the thought of turning coal into gold. But it does not weigh any less on you as a training officer when someone who is passionate and whom you have put so much of yourself into is let go. A friend and mentor once said: “I’ve never lost sleep over the ones I’ve let go…only the ones who made it through who shouldn’t have.” There are times, as a training officer, when you know in your gut that there’s no objective reason that a particular individual should be let go yet that person is unfit for a life of service to others. When individuals progress from recruit to probationary, they hit the floor. Then the phone calls and texts come in. Remarks are made. “This so‑and‑so is going to be a 30‑year issue.” “This person is physically weak.” And so forth. It hits hard. Your name and reputation are stamped on everyone who graduates under your care. We must be accountable for some of these cases, of course, but I always offer for the complainant to apply to the next posting and come try and help. People make it to our ranks and through their time as probationary firefighters. Once through, it is up to them to remain vigilant and dedicated. We can set them up to meet expectations in the academy, but what happens if they fall in with a disengaged crew? Such negative influences are out of your control as a training officer. What’s not out of your control, however, is catching them at the start of their career and instilling values, providing examples of passion, and showing them what right looks like. This is the training officer as change agent. These young members are the future leaders of our department. Learning the right steps of how to run a chain saw and training it to second nature means they will be able to rely on their training when it’s needed most. Teaching them detail and dedication to the craft will live alongside those fireground skills. Do You Want to Be Loved or Respected? The switch to training has not been without trepidation. I am no longer doing runs beside the men and women whom my position is meant to support. My fear is that I will lose the connection to the floor and what’s still relevant and functional on the operations side of the house. I had built a reputation by being relatable, respected, and an “aggressive. #J-18808-Ljbffr Firerescuemagazine