“Listening in the Dark”
REFLECTIONS | BRAD TAYLOR
Recently I had the opportunity to spend a few days at a conference with 911 call takers.
Over the years I have worked with 911 dispatchers, 311 and 211 operators, public transportation command center staff, and others who manage complicated conversations on the phone. But it wasn't until this conference that I began to more fully appreciate the impact of experiencing somebody's stress, trauma, and terrifying circumstances over the phone.
When we can only hear what is happening, the images our minds create can be more powerful than the sounds themselves.
Upon returning home, I started thinking in more familiar terms.
I was saying good night to my son, and he mentioned that he was sometimes uncomfortable in the dark. When I asked him what made him uncomfortable, since his room was the same room as it always was, day or night, he said that he could hear things that made him scared.
I lay there silently with him in the dark and listened to what he heard.
Noises from the street that I could easily identify, and that were just part of the normal background of evening dog walks and cars returning home, were less familiar to him. And I could understand how they sounded louder and more ominous than they did when he was sitting in that same room during the day, focusing on Legos or a book.
As I lay there listening alongside him, I began to hear some of those sounds differently myself.
A door slamming did seem more angry. Footsteps sounded harsher and more intentional. Voices seemed a little more animated, and possibly sharper.
When a dispatcher answers the phone, they enter into the caller's world midstream. Something has happened, something bad that the caller fears may get worse. The conversation begins without the context that is typically gained through observing and witnessing how a situation has been unfolding.
Instead of relying on their eyes, call takers focus on tone, volume, pace of speech, and word choice. They try to recognize emotion and differentiate between sarcasm and seriousness while sorting through what they hear to piece together only the relevant bits of information. In doing so, their minds may create imagery that may or may not reflect the actual situation.
And often, before knowing how the situation ends, they must disconnect and take the next call.
At the conference, I heard this described as a cliffhanger: the call ends before the crisis does.
I have great respect, compassion, and gratitude for these first responders, who use their ears to see what is needed and their hearts and minds to coordinate a response.
My perspective has gained a depth that I will carry forward, personally and professionally. And I will now recognize how the familiar sounds of a settling house or the murmur of the street may be heard differently in the dark.
Brad Taylor