The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.
Over the course of a career, a police officer answers to an array of call signs. No, nothing as transparently descriptive as "Maverick" or "Goose." They are generally sterile alphanumerics that describe watch and beat assignments. I've been 1North30, or 250 (which a friend translates as "two-fitty"). Yesterday I was 120 - watch one north sector patrol sergeant.
Tomorrow I will be Edward 10. What?!
Leaving my friends in Patrol for an assignment with the Training Unit is an extraordinary mixed bag. I succeed a good friend, and join an excellent group. I will work days, and have Saturday and Sunday off (saying I will have "weekends off" obscures the issue - I've always had weekends off, they were just WTF). This is a job I've wanted for years and now, finally, I'm there.
I'm not a bike cop, anymore. I've left my Patrol team in capable hands, and while vicariously enjoying their triumphs I will no longer share their peril. I look forward to molding the new breed, preparing them for the rigors and rewards of an especially difficult career path.
Over the coming weeks and months we will explore this transition, from bike cop to training sergeant. I'm excited at the new challenge, humbled that the organization put me in this position and look forward to learning from the professional training officers who have built the excellent academy and in-service programs.
I'm going to miss the street interactions. I won't be rolling through alleys checking on people like Theodore. There will be no more five-degree mornings mustering brave men and women to face armed idiots. When the alert tone sounds a particularly critical call I won't hear it.
But, I'm going to have a hand in preparing the next generation to face those challenges. I'm going to learn a lot from men and women who have walked this walk very effectively.
Edward 10. I can do this.