Posts Tagged ‘police psychology’

Police Psychology | Humor and Culture

 

I was lecturing on police psychology to a conference crowd in Singapore, and I had included a funny metaphor of the development of the Apollo moon vehicle by NASA to show the rigidity in police organizations. The Police Psychology, horses ass punch line is that NASA, like police organizations, relied on decisions based on the rear ends of horses centuries before. It is a funny and amusing story and gets from a small chuckle to a major minute’s ovation in America when it is finished. In Asia, the audience felt I was insulting the police commissioner who they liked a lot (and I did too). Since it was my opening story, I sort of lost that audience as they would cringe every time I started a new story or joke. I guess you could say it was Zen – “be the horse’s rear end.” I became the rear end of the horse. With over 450 keynote addresses in my life, this was one of two that I hated intensely.

Laughter is the world’s best medicine. Or is it? Unlike vaccines and typical pharmaceutical drugs, humor is not necessarily universal. What we find funny here in the United States may be considered offensive in other countries. Humor can be vastly different from person to person, culture-to-culture, religion-to-religion, and even among sexual orientations. Everyone enjoys some form of humor, however, the humor that is enjoyed and valued may be vastly different depending on the person’s background, exposure and beliefs.

Charles Darwin explored the adaptive ability of humor and concluded that (more…)

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What’s the Seventh Grade Science Term for the Opposite of Chronic “Stress?”

(Hint: Two words, a total of nine syllables) 

by Doug Gentz , Ph.D- Psychological Services

Along with intentions to abstain from junk food and resist general slothfulness, most of us try to avoid “stress.” Maybe as long as we’re committed to steering clear of “stress” we could define the opposite so Police Psychologywe have a better focus on what we’re trying to achieve. Qualifying at the range is more likely when you try to hit the target instead of just trying not to shoot the berm.

Managing “stress” is mostly about managing the part of your body called the autonomic nervous system.It has two branches – the sympathetic (which is all about excitement and tension) and the parasympathetic (which is all about relaxing). One or the other is always dominant.

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Police Psychology | When You Start Out You Never Know Where You’ll Wind Up

By Ellen Kirschman

I started out to be an actress and ended up as a police psychologist writing mysteries inspired by my clients. “Acting is physical,“ my first drama teacher roared asPolice Stress, Police Psychology though still on stage. “Think of Macbeth roaming the halls of his drafty castle in a reeking bearskin cape. He didn’t wander with furrowed brow in an agony of emotion. He was cold and hungry, his eyes were blurry and his back ached.”

My first acting assignment was to observe people at work. But I wanted more. I wanted to be the person I was observing. That’s what drew me to the Majestic Ballroom on Times Square. Down the stairs I went, following the neon arrows and the aging photographs of buxom women with sullen, pouty faces. The manager hired me on the spot. The supervising dance hostess handed me a floor-length strapless tube of stretch jersey with a padded bra that catapulted my bosom into a fleshy shelf. I squirmed into it, trying not to think about the health habits of its last occupant.

My training was short and to the point. “Tease the clients. Promise something while promising nothing. The longer you hold a customer’s attention, the more money he’ll spend. String the guy along until closing time, then have the bouncer throw him out on his ass. Turn in your chits at the end of the week for cash.”

The hostesses were a cast of female archetypes. An avatar of Marilyn Monroe smiled provocatively and shook her pearly blonde wig. Cleopatra assumed a regal pose while clucking disapprovingly at an aging siren with deflated breasts who stood near the door blowing obscene kisses and making juicy smacking sounds to the patrons as they descended the stairs. To one side, a forlorn and disheveled Ophelia talked to no one but herself, her endless babbling an apparent comfort to the steady stream of silent men who paid for her company.

Marissa wore a simple cocktail dress that zipped down the front so that she could run to the dressing room on breaks and nurse her baby under the watchful eye of the child’s grandmother. “Don’t sleep with anyone you don’t love, like those putas, ” she whispered to me with the saintliness of a Madonna and the sad traces of firsthand experience.

Our clients were a motley bunch. Morose and somber, some were barely able to make small talk or eye contact. No one seemed to be having any fun except for the occasional drunken frat boy who fell through the door on a dare, laughing and shouting obscenities.

Mike was unlike the soggy-faced shufflers who had been stepping on my toes and breathing in my face. He was young and talkative. “I chose you,” he said, “because you look different from the other girls.” I was elated to be recognized for what I was, not what I was pretending to be. I poured out my tale: dedicated-young-actress-embarked-on-a-meaningful-but-dangerous-venture-into-the-skin-trade-for-the-love-of-theater. My confession must have pierced the armor of his anonymity. An eighth note after the music finished, he bolted across the dance floor and made for the stairs. With his hand on the door, he turned and shouted at me: “Hey you. My name’s not Mike.”

At closing time Cleopatra rode off in a Cadillac with a man who looked to be half her age. Marilyn Monroe hailed a taxi. The old siren stuck a cigarette in her nearly toothless mouth and headed for an all night bar. Ophelia skittered off into the darkness. Marissa left with her mother and baby. At the end of the week I tried to transfer my chits to her account, but I was told it was against the rules.

It took me years to connect my brief stint at the Majestic Ballroom to my career as a police psychologist. Granted, police officers and dime-a-dance hostesses are very different and I hope I’m not insulting either when I suggest they share some similarities. Both need to protect themselves emotionally and psychologically from people who want them and reject them in equal measure. The occupational personas they are forced to adopt are tools of the trade; virtual masks that simultaneously crush them and free them to do their jobs. Emotional control is vital to their ability to function in uncertain, potentially explosive circumstances. And social distance is their bulwark against the misery and despair they see every day.

The Majestic Ballroom no longer exists, probably replaced by on-line porn sites. Cleopatra, Ophelia, Marilyn Monroe, and Marissa have gone on to do other things that are, I imagine, less gratifying than the opportunities and experiences I have had. It makes me sad that they will never know how much they influenced my life and for how long.

Blog Administrator: Gary S. Aumiller, Ph.D.

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Police Psychology | I’m Dreaming of a RIGHT Christmas

 

While I was building my police psychology practice when I was starting out, I used to work in a high school as a school psychologist. As part of my program I ran weekly groups for the kids where they could talk and get some advice for minor problems. Often the groups got into major problems and I could come in and help out. I ran about 30 groups a week so it was a pretty big program encompassing over half of the junior and senior classes.

The Letter to Santa

Every other group session I would give them an exercise, and on alternating Police Psychology, santa, thumbsweeks they would just talk. At Christmastime, I remember the exercise distinctly. It was a fill-in the blanks letter to Santa. It started off “Dear Santa:” and went through lines like “give me _____ to improve my looks, ________ to improve my personality or make my fantasy of __________ come true.” I would get out all the insecurities of adolescence and they would encourage each other and find out even the prettiest people or the best athletes were insecure about something. I would close every letter with a P.S. which said “Thank you Santa for bringing me ______ and ______ last year.” It was cute, fit the season and got out some good therapy stuff. But I didn’t expect the result I got.

Almost all of the kids could not fill in the last two blanks! Some could get one, but two was very rare. Much to my surprise, they would easily write down their fantasy (sometimes I wish they hadn’t), but would never be able to remember what they had gotten last year from their parents. It was explained that they were just to write what their parents had given them, and none could do it. This was an affluent school, and these kids got major gifts, but that was not one of their memories. So I started asking questions and many could tell me Christmas traditions in their family, such as singing carols or visiting a poor family with gifts, but none could remember what they had gotten, unless it was an activity gift like going to a ballgame with their dad or something.

Christmas Traditions

I don’t know why I was surprised. I can remember grandpa’s Christmas ravioli, we’d stay up late at night making them and we’d get to taste on raw if we were good. I remember the late night card games when we were kids where we always seemed to win at the end; and I remember the little homemade Christmas ornaments all the neighbors used to give each other — so simple and beautiful. But I only remember two gifts throughout the years. I got a drum set in first grade. I remember it because I played it non-stop for days – just banging my heart out. I loved those drums. Funny, when I went back to school after the break, I came home and my mother said burglars broke in the house and stole my drum set. Nothing else, just my drum set. I also remember a 007 briefcase that used to shoot little plastic bullets out the side of it. My brother hit me with one of the bullets in the eye. The Christmas burglars came back for that, even though we had moved. How’d the burglars know! Never did figure that out. Maybe that is why I became a police psychologist—to catch criminals.

My brother had a cool tradition at Christmas. Every year he would tape and interview his kids at holiday time asking them who were their friends, what they were learning and what they wanted for Christmas, etc. When they got a little older, each Christmas we’d watch the tape from 5 or so years before and the present tape. What a great little gift for all of us, including the kids, to see the kids growing up on tape each year. They’re now around 4+ and my niece’s kids watch it. This is a great tradition.

My clients have gotten their teenager a car. They feel it will get him away from the video games. He not a real hard worker, doesn’t try too hard in school, never had an after school job. He used to be into skating, but it was too much work, so now he is a video whiz, in fact skipped school a few times when new games are released. But he is an ace at video games. Ninety percent of what the parents talk about in therapy is the misery the kid is putting on their lives.  I will have to tell them of the Christmas burglars.

Police psychology: simple steps3 Simple Steps to a Tradition

  1. Enjoy the Season, Not the Day — Make the buying of the tree a big event. Keep Santa Claus alive even after the kids are grown. Get together with neighbors before Christmas/Hanukkah. Invite neighbor over to light a candle and have a glass of cider. Go caroling. Make special foods over a period of weeks. This is a glorious time of year. Enjoy every moment of it.
  1. Time Gifts — Kid and adults remember and react to gifts of time. Thinks about making purchases of ball games, concerts, shows, vacations, anything that will take a little pleasure away from an item that you bought. Christmas and Hanukkah are times of great anticipation; keep that alive by giving a gift of time in the future.
  1. Friend in Need – I didn’t make this one up, but Christmas/Hanukkah is a time to share your good fortune with others, even if that good fortune doesn’t have any money attached. Adopt a family, buy a random gift for a kid with parents struggling, cook something and bring it to others in need. I used to throw huge parties in my younger days and tell people instead of something for me, bring a toy that I can give to a child in need at Christmas. We are all in this world together, do you part to make someone happier.

Some gifts last!! It will be what you do at a holiday season that makes a difference, not what material things you give. We tend to forget that this time of year. We get caught up in the commercialism of the holidays and forget to start the traditions. Start a new tradition this Christmas or Hanukkah and see where it takes you. You will like the outcome. Have a great holiday season this year.

Blog Administrator: Gary S. Aumiller, Ph.D.

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Viewpoint of an Atheist

by Julie Derby Jaecksch

Hello, my name is Julie and I am an atheist. I do not often discuss being an atheist with people that I do not know or even people that I do know because many people have an immediate & significant negative reaction.

American Atheist logo

American Atheist logo

I am grateful for the opportunity to express myself in this blog entry alongside other people discussing their beliefs. First and foremost, I respect & support every person’s choice of their belief system without judging or criticizing. I am not speaking for all atheists which according to recent surveys is a growing segment of American society. While I know quite a few first responders who are atheists, I am writing only from my personal beliefs and experiences.

I was a dispatcher for a county police department 1983-1990. I processed all types of crime scenes including murders, unexplained deaths, officer-involved shootings, sexual assaults, assaults with deadly weapons & burglaries in a large and violent city 1990-2015. During my 25 years of working crime scenes, “my” department experienced multiple line-of-duty-deaths and several suicides as well as accusations of criminal wrongdoing, violent demonstrations, organizational & personal scandals, multi-million dollar lawsuits and intense media coverage of the some of these events.

I was raised without religious education or participation of any kind having only minimal exposure following Saturday night sleep-overs with my Grandma or with friends who went to church. I have never taken a class in religion or read the Bible.

My parents, family members, responsible adults & teachers taught me: right from wrong; how to take responsibility for myself; that helping others is part of being a good citizen; how to treat and care about people as I would want them to treat and care about me; and that treating people with compassion, honesty and fairness is the right thing to do.

I read a lot as a child including classic stories with moral lessons, descriptions of how responsible adults lived their lives and the consequences that people suffered who did not follow the rules. My family discussed newspaper stories and local TV news stories that included examples of behavior to emulate and behavior to avoid.

I am a very logical thinker. Believing in God and statements like “God only gives you what you can handle” and “Trust in God that He will provide for you” do not make logical sense to me. I have been overwhelmed with grief that felt like more than I could handle but I knew that it was temporary and I did not expect anyone else to help me handle it but I was grateful that I could depend on my friends to comfort me and listen to me during my grief journey. I was taught from a young age that I would need to become educated and work hard in order to support myself and that I should not count on being able to rely on my parents or others to provide for me, that in most cases I should be self-reliant.

I was having an open, honest & calm conversation with a friend of mine who became religious as an adult about our differing beliefs. He asked me as an atheist what motivates me to be a good person without the promise of being rewarded in the afterlife/next life. I love this question because it made me think back to how my parents communicated with me about the need for me to be a good person, a considerate family member, a productive employee & a responsible citizen.

The word faith may have had its origin in religious teachings, I do not know. I use the word faith without the religious connotation as a synonym for confidence such as “I have faith in myself that I will be able to be a good person” or “I have faith that my work as a crime scene investigator will be of service & value to the victim and to the community”.

I processed over 500 death scenes during my career including several with multiple victims, innocent victims and victims that were very young or very old. I believe that a person who dies, lives on in the hearts, minds & memories of the people who loved them and that they “live on” in the conversations of family and friends but not in another dimension or life beyond Earth.

I know that when someone says that the deceased person is “in a better place” that they are trying to be comforting and I am glad that their beliefs comfort them. I do not believe in an afterlife of any kind so that sounds hollow to me but I accept the thoughts & the love behind the words. I believe when a person has died – whether it was a violent death or a natural death – that they are no longer in any pain. I believe that their soul, spirit, essence or whatever word people choose to call the “heart” of the person that made them the individual that they were has ceased to exist and the physical body is all that remains. I witnessed the death of many people at work and I was with my beloved husband when he took his last breath. I treated every deceased human being with respect and with great care while processing the death scene whether it was a sidewalk in a crime-ridden neighborhood or a bedroom in a beautiful home.

In addition to dealing with much death at work, I have lost many people that I love – please notice that I used the present tense instead of saying loved which is past tense – including both of my parents, my beloved aunt & uncle, my husband, my older brother, friends & co-workers. I do not believe that their deaths were decided by God or that they are “living” in Heaven or enjoying some type of afterlife. I do not understand how I would be consoled while grieving by a belief in God. I believe that I carry my loved ones with me in my memories and in my heart & that they “live on” when people who loved them talk about them & remember them. I do not believe in an afterlife of any kind which leads me to cherish this life on Earth and to be grateful every day. There are no guarantees of a long, trouble-free life. No one knows how long their life will be. It is clear to me, that life can be both easy & difficult and that bad things sometimes happen to good people without explanation.

When I hear someone say that what happens – a murder, a tornado, a winning lottery ticket – is “God’s will” I do not understand that belief. If people believe in a benevolent God or higher power of some kind, how do they explain wars, incurable cancer, the random murder of a toddler, terrorism, the extinction of animal species or a tsunami killing thousands of people? Why would God choose to make these things happen? I believe that the vast majority of people are good people or that they are trying to be good people. I also believe that some people: treat other people unfairly or take advantage of them; are simply evil; are without empathy for themselves or others; are sociopaths or psychopaths. It is truly unfortunate that some people become physically ill or mentally ill but I do not believe that this happens because of “God’s will.”

A friend of mine who is a therapist who sees first responders once mentioned to me that she thinks that I am a very spiritual person. I did not think that the word spiritual applied to me because I thought at the time that it was always used as a religious word and I asked her to explain what she meant by that word. Her definition of spiritual is a person who spends time being of service to other people without any expectation of personal gain. She knows that I spend time volunteering with first responder organizations including educating first responders on how to become more resilient and how to manage their stress. I appreciate her describing me as spiritual using her definition. I now realize that spiritual and religious are not synonyms and I hear more people describing themselves as spiritual.

People who choose to become first responders – or are “called” to the professions, some people think that the person does not choose the job as much as the job chooses the person – are rule followers by nature. The belief system that each first responder embraces, will guide them through the performance of their job duties as well as their personal life.

My sincere hope is that each person – first responder or not – will listen to people who have different beliefs without judgment or criticism. I hope that people will accept that believing in God and an afterlife are not mandatory to living a moral, law-abiding life of service to others. Thank you for reading with an open mind.

 

Blog Administrator: Gary S. Aumiller, Ph.D.

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