I took my police examination this month, and I realized all my distance running hadn't ideally prepared me for the sprints, steps, and vaults of the short course. All together it was a distance traveled of only 500 yards, including going up and down roughly 70 steps, climbing over 3, 4 and 6 foot walls and dragging a 150 pound dummy, amongst other challenges. It looked deceptively easy, and most all of us were surprised by its difficulty. We arrived at 6:30am as the sun was coming over the horizon to shine on the exam course. Our primary testing officer gave us a speech to boost morale, encouraging us to band together and strengthen the resolves of our fellow candidates, and that they wanted us to succeed and be a part of the police force. He further insisted that we think of ourselves from this day forward as a team, and treat each other as such. People shouted cheers and responses of 'Sir, yes sir!', despite the fact ten minutes earlier we all were scoping out the competition.
What started as a nice cool morning turned into an oppressively hot day. It was odd seeing the mentality of many of my fellow applicants there - it felt like the sentiment expressed during the morning was perverted into only a superficially friendly gathering of team support, lined with antagonistic scrutiny and not so friendly competition. There was a tension in the air that wasn't test anxiety, but a constant feeling you had to beat the guys next to you, watching candidates make mistakes and noting them down for when you ran the course or alternatively being somewhat relieved that it was one less you had to best in the process. It wasn't something you consciously felt or pushed in your mind, there was no willful aggression - it was an undercurrent of feeling you knew just by watching others' expressions that they were feeling the same. Even some of the cheering and support from the crowd of 200+ applicants that was encouraged from the testing officers, and seemed genuine that morning, became labored or obligatory rather than any authentic empathy. The only groups that seemed closely bonded to begin with were the Marines and Navy candidates, and even their groups eyed the others with exclusionary contempt.Or just trying to flex their muscles big enough to make sure no one looked them straight in the eye.
Plenty of us made small talk together, waiting around and hearing the repeated phrases of 'Go, go, go!', 'Push!', 'Finish strong!' shouted by the coordinators. Even though there were 5 or 6 proctors, they all said the same phrases. I wondered if they were instructed even to keep those regular. I learned from a number of the other candidates their backgrounds, and they were very variable. Some worked desk jobs, others were straight out of college, still others did labor or unskilled work. Noone talked about why they wanted to join the police. It was almost as if everyone was intentionally avoiding that question, and I couldn't be sure if it was the fact they had been asked that question too many times, they had no idea what the answer was themselves, or were embarrassed what their honest answer may be. All I know is that a number of them, after hearing that I was currently working two jobs, informed me with sly smiles that, "You won't need two jobs after getting your first paycheck from this one." The sentiment was to be expected I guess... but it left the experience feeling a bit off.
I managed to pass the exam by the skin of my teeth - only fifteen seconds to spare in a three and a half minute exam. After sitting down for some rest then helping the testing proctors reset the course for other candidates for a while, my group of successful candidates from the physical exam proceeded to be escorted to a testing room to take on the Pre-Interview Questions (PIQs). This consisted of a packet of 400 questions about your past and moral character, as well as offering you space to explain any transgressions you made in the past. Of course it had all of the typical questions about drugs, previous arrests, etc. but it oddly asked many questions I never thought would be relevant... or perhaps disqualifying. Some of the more entertaining ones I enjoyed reading included: "Have you ever masturbated at work?"; "Have you ever committed cyber terrorism or attempted to by planting viruses in government computers?"; "How many times have you been drunk in the past calendar year?"(when I asked the detective to define drunk for me in this case, she gave me the equally entertaining answer of 'Well... I would define it as reaching the level where you couldn't function on your own, like passing out in a corner at a party or in a restaurant or something like that, but its really up to you what you consider drunk') The PIQ is designed to weed out bad candidates before performing a background investigation and a subsequent polygraph test, so honesty is paramount - and I didn't see much point in lying about my ethics for a position that was extremely ethically grounded. As a result, I admitted to 100's accounts of supplying alcohol to people under the age of 21, which happens all too easily with a drinking age of 18 in Scotland, as well as a number of instances of performing sexual acts with someone under 18 after reaching legal adulthood which qualifies as rape, despite the fact Fiona and I are still together and laws for consent are different on the other side of the pond. I then proceeded to recount instances of permitting people to use drugs in my presence, since I obviously can control everyone at random parties during college or, even better, at Burning Man, as well as some nostalgic stories about me getting suspended at school for smoking cigarettes and refusing to apologize to the assistant principle (though he was happy to let the other 4 guys off got caught with me and begged for forgiveness). I got a mugshot taken of me for submission with my PIQs, and proceeded to leave the exam room with even more of a bad taste in my mouth.
I actually happened to know one of the testers for the police exam from my local game store that I play cards at, and asked him about my answers on the test as well as my score on the physical exam. He responded with a sharp intake of breath through gritted teeth, as if I just stomped on his toes, and a response of, "Oooohh.... Yeah... sorry to break it to you man, but it doesn't sound like too hot of an application to be honest..."
So who knows how it'll go? I could get a call back, but as it stands it doesn't sound very likely. And so I've ran myself into a circle it seems. Working two jobs was driving me up a wall as I had no time for myself and pulling two shifts almost every day in the week was draining me. So I ended up putting in notice for one, and work the other almost full time now. I won't stay stocking shelves and developing film forever though - and now I'm left in a position to go in any direction again. Following the police plan to fruition was meant to give me insight and direction for my professional life, and now it seems through the constant change and circumstance I have almost found myself in the same place I started coming back from university a year ago.
At this stage of still beginning my adult life, I feel often that I'm feeling my way through a labyrinth with no way to track where I've been, if I am following the same path I have before, or if I've been turned around and I am walking the opposite direction from when I've started. The riddle becomes even more difficult when you consider that the direction one walks or pushes towards in the maze doesn't matter, at least not until you figure out where it is you want to be. Moreover, it seems an even harder task to figure out what side of the structure I want to be spit out on when I do follow a path to completion. Every experience is valuable and can be utilized in one way or another at a different time, however, as a result of these sentiments, it feels as if my progress of development is slow if nonexistent.
That feeling, though, is one of necessity I think. Acknowledging that I'm going nowhere fast at this moment is more inspiration to redouble efforts and try something new. Trying anything is better than doing nothing. This failure on one front isn't a point of surrender or hopelessness but a realization that success must be found elsewhere. The key, I think, is to remain the certain despite everything changing, plans becoming undone, ideas being debased, or assumptions ending up debunked. The key is constancy in flux. And I intend to keep looking for the thing that will get me the satisfaction and pride I'm looking for in what I do - no matter how many times I fail. So what to do next? I can go in any number of possible directions... so that just means the world is my oyster, right? I guess its time to set up a new goal to achieve; I'll let you all know once I've got it nailed down.
P.S. Sorry about the lack of pictures this time around - but my scenery has pretty much solely consisted of this lately (fuck cleaning up cardboard). I'll be sure to get some good shots for next time.
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