When it came time to filling the kids’ schedule for this summer, I was aiming for a mix of different things. Some time at town camp. Some time at the Y. CCD. Bible camp. The Junior Police Academy. A few weeks that are much lazier with a babysitter. And one week with me off.
At the end of the summer, there will be lots and lots of pictures, and stories, and adventures. Of big things and little things. Of randomness and nothingness.
But always stories.
When I first heard about the Junior Police Academy, it sounded perfect. Developed and implemented by our local police department some fifteen years ago, it’s a one week, full day program that gives the recruits (5th through 8th graders, boys and girls) a taste of all the different law enforcement agencies. During the week, they were either visited by or went on a field trip to the S.W.A.T. team, the Fire Department, the Fire Academy, the Juvenile Detention Center, Animal Control, helicopter medics, the CIA, the DEA, and countless others.
The kids were issued a uniform for the week, which we picked up in evidence bags from the police department, and were to report for duty by 7:45 am every morning. As I dropped him off the first morning, and the kids huddled together, and then started lining up in parade formation, the Lieutenant leading the session started barking orders at them.
And all the sudden, it was more police academy, than junior.
Which was not exactly what I was expecting.
And I fretted all day, wondering if I had made the right decision to sign him up in the first place.
Four o’clock rolled around, and as the kids spilled out into the parking lot, they quickly got into parade formation and awaited further orders. More barking. Zero congeniality. I spied Nick in the first row, in the middle, and made eye contact with him. No smile.
The Lieutenant and his team waited for the recruits to follow orders, and after a few minutes and he was satisfied with everyone’s positioning, he dismissed them.
As soon as Nick got into the car, I got an earful. Of course, being modeled after the official Police Academy, there was lots of PT, and it was outside in the 100 degree heat wave. It took the recruits 45 minutes to get the parade formation done correctly in the morning before they could move on to the next item on the agenda. Lots of yelling. He hated it. Didn’t want to go back. Ready to quit then and there.
I convinced him to go back the next day. Once the recruits understood the expectations, it would get easier. Settle into a routine. Or so I reasoned. And then I highlighted all the activities he could get to participate in. How many of his friends who get to see the inside of a S.W.A.T. team truck and try on their gear? Learn about drug raids at the airport? Sit inside a medic helicopter?
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