I wonder how many people know the life of a first responder, the things they are exposed to and the reality that they live with. A student in a university class on violence and conflict recently asked me, how do police officers deal with the stress of the job. I pointed out that medical staff, nurses and doctors, paramedics, fire fighters and police officers deal with people at their maddest, baddest and saddest, routinely exposed to things that are beyond the normal human experience. They see things that they don’t want to burden their family or friends with, so who do they talk to, and when do they unburden themselves?

First responders are the tip of the public service spear, first to arrive at some of society’s nastiest problems, dealing with humanity at it’s worst, they exemplify some of humankind’s best. Police and firefighters, like soldiers, must come to terms early in their career with the sacrifice they may be called upon to make at any given moment. And make no mistake, when they sign up, their spouses and families are signed up along with them. But it is important to point out that all public servants, in all their varied roles, sacrifice for their work, whether it be in public office, clerical or administrative roles, dealing with some of society’s worst problems. To me, and I think most civil servants, public service means committing to serve, putting community well-being first. First responders represent the epitome of service, literally knowing they could be called upon to make the ultimate sacrifice. But, most of their work is more of a slow burn, dealing daily with conflict, victimization and administration, two minutes of terror followed by eight hours of paperwork- as the saying goes.

They have to be stoic and professional at scenes of violence, the calm voice and steady hand for people during the worst crisis of their life––over and over again in any given tour of duty, and then never really having a chance to scream themselves; Public speaking when they are afraid, humble and uncomfortable, but the message is so important to say; Taking shit, “I pay your salary” and just smiling when people tell you their speeding ticket story; Being called a racist when you’ve dedicated your life to fighting racism; Tedious investigations and endless paperwork, so court cases don’t fail; Leaving family, no matter if it’s Christmas, an anniversary or birthday, to help other people with their crisis, managing a threat to public safety, or making sure a crime is investigated; Working and guarding the community while everyone else in the City sleeps except for criminals, drunks and cabbies; Safeguarding someone’s dignity when they are attacking yours, protecting them while they are assaulting you; Taking an eyeful of pepper spray, being tazered, and practicing self defense tactics on each other, so they you know what it would feel like if you ever have to use it on a criminal; Going into a dark building to search for intruders, knowing that a colleague recently caught a two-by-four in the face in the same scenario; Intervening in a fight when a terrified person has called for help, with the memory that you recently did the same thing and while you were putting the cuffs on him, she changed her mind and attacked you from behind; Facing a crowd in protest, allowing them to spit on you, swear at and berate you, hoping you see it coming if someone throws a rock or chemicals or a malotov cocktail from the crowd, knowing you are there for their protection; The proverbial, running towards danger when everyone else is running away.

The unsung support roles are just as stressful, the nurse’s aide who cleans up all the blood and medical supplies in the emergency room, getting ready for the next emergency while a grieving family from the previous one is still in the other room, the dispatcher who listens helplessly to the high-speed pursuit, desperate citizens calling for help, the officer voicing for backup while they are being attacked, or the firefighter down in a smoke-filled building, and the list goes on.

It is the greatest honour to have such meaningful work protecting community, the opportunity to practice pure compassion for people, even if it puts you in harms way; but folks should know it is a privilege that comes with a cost. It is a calling that cannot be described well without the term love, love of humanity, love of community and gratitude for the opportunity to serve a pure purpose in life. That is the unvarnished truth for most first responders.

Working with great people, including new Division Commander- Bonnie Emerson, supporting our School Education Officers, Cadets, Diversity Unit, Crime Prevention, Indigenous Partnerships and Victim and Volunteer Services, as second in command of the Winnipeg Police Service Community Support Division, I am excited for the potential and looking forward to nurturing, supporting and guiding partnerships and community engagement in the coming months.

“The police are the people and the people are the police” (Sir Robert Peel, 1829).

I’ve been nominated to represent alumni on the University of Manitoba Board of Governors. I would love the opportunity, and hope you will vote for me.

Please take a minute to vote; make sure your interests are represented, and give me a voice on the Board to represent you.

Click here to see the candidates and Vote.

I came down to the kitchen this morning and found our Google Home Mini embroiled in a heated debate with Siri on my cell phone, and Siri on Barb’s iPad, about the reliability of weather forecasting systems. Even our voice activated TV remote and thermostat control were weighing in.

Dancing horse in Bucerias Mexico

Barb’s Iguana friend

Mexican skies

Anyone who has ever felt a tinge of loneliness (which is most of us), knows it is not a nice feeling. It is a danger that many face, in particular as we become elderly and have less family around. Below is a segment from a radio show in Newfoundland, in which a lady describes how she practices going out of her way to connect and smile with folks, especially the elderly. It can help people and feels good to do. I believe in Canada, we are generally pretty good at being polite and engaging, and looking after each other, but this is a nice reminder that we can be compassionate and make someone feel better, and feel better ourselves, wth the simple act of a smile.

Happy New Year! Another year has passed and we all have great hopes for the future. There is no point in having regrets; they are like pulling your hand out of the passing river; the ripples have had their affect and we have all moved on. The water is constantly flowing and so are we in the river of life. What we can control is the compassion we show towards others; it will make others happy and us as well. May you all experience and give unconditional love in the coming year; we all have value and our own path in life, and each fulfil our destiny in a unique way; may you have a fulfilling and joy-filled destiny, and ignore the things that detract from it.

With the windchill, it’s -44C (-47F) and this is the scene outside City Hall at 4AM this morning, the day before New Year’s eve. Three men huddled in a bus shack, because it is enclosed and blocks the wind. With shaking hands, one doesn’t even have gloves, they eagerly reach out as Barb and Chelsea offer them a hot bowl of soup and a coffee. Surprisingly, they are joking around, “hey could I get a foot massage, naaa” says one young man with big a smirk on his face. A sense of humour is probably the best defence against the unforgiving elements. It’s day 33 of our 4AM coffee run and it might be time to reassess, as the last couple of days we only found a few people downtown. There are still lots of people running around, but most of the regulars are missing and even the changing face of homelessness has diminished substantially. Speculating that increased holiday spirit in combination with the dangerously cold temperatures has resulted in more people either taking folks in or even the die-hard street folks seeking refuge. Winnipeg’s shelters, and the wonderful people who work at them have also taken up the slack, seemingly taking more folks in. Winnipeg’s culture of compassion and care is tangible in these conditions; humanity matters.

Devon Clunis, spreading spreading inspiration through his book, The Little Boy From Jamaica, showing youth from all walks of life that anything is possible.

In one of the coldest winters on record, there are still people out all night, sometimes  with no gloves and wearing only runners. We (my family and I) have found people out, huddled in bus shacks every night over the past month, despite the great efforts by wonderful organizations like Siloam Mission, Salvation Army, the Main Street Project and others. We found the numbers of people out there over the last few nights, over Christmas and as the temperatures got more extreme, dropped a bit, BUT, we still found 6 to 10 or more each night who were out at 4AM and not in a shelter. They all have a different story, but no-one should be out in this cold.

Here is the CBC story

When the businesses are closed, and it is -25C, Winnipeg’s streets become a formidable and unforgiving place; it is urban tundra, but in some ways more harsh than the wild, because the cold reality is that it is made to keep people out. Yet, there are people everywhere, walking to stay warm, finding a corner to huddle in, and sometimes relying on the compassion of strangers for the next meal or a pair of mitts and a scarf. Who are these people, huddled in bus shacks and running around in the streets at night? They are all different, but they all have something in common; they are human beings, with hopes and dreams, needs and they all come from somewhere, a place, a family, but not always knowing where they will go tomorrow, or even today.

Today, George is in his usual spot, alone in the bus shack outside City Hall. Sometimes there are others, and on the odd occasion George is missing, but most days he is there, either sitting up or laying down, bundled up and trying to sleep. George is quiet; we aren’t sure if it is more a language barrier or more of a mental health issue, but he is very quiet, barely uttering more than a “thank-you” for a hot coffee. He is dressed warmly with felt pack boots and a parka, and sometimes he has food wrappings beside him. He doesn’t seem drunk, but might sometimes be, it is hard to tell in the bone chilling cold. Yesterday, as we pulled up there were a couple of people there in the shack and as we walked in with our gear, George got up, walked outside and urinated on a tree in the courtyard in City Hall, 10 feet from the bus shack. Such is life in the street; there is not much to be shy about, and not many ways to preserve your dignity when there are no bathrooms, you do what you have to do. Today I asked “George, where are you from? He said without hesitation, “Wayway.” I asked Waywaysakapo?” George said “Ya.” Wayawasakapa is a reserve in Northern Manitoba. That was our whole conversation as he slurped down the soup we left, but did say a quiet “thank-you” as we packed up and left.

Billy (pictured here and above), is in the bus shack by Portage Place, not sure he is homeless, just trying to make his way home up North for the holidays. As soon as my daughter Chelsea offered him a hot coffee and a soup, Billy (not his real name) was happy and thankful for something warm; at 4:00AM it was -25C with wind-chill that could take your fingers off if they were exposed too long. He was excited to receive anything and even get his picture taken, as well as hoping to get a ride back to his community that day.

Isabel (not her real name) is sitting alone in a bus shack by Eaton Place, wide awake, sober, with the apparent patience of the Buddha, not expecting anything to happen and not trying to make anything happen- just sitting there. She is elderly, Indigenous, well-spoken and well-dressed, a walker and some makeshift luggage sitting in front of her. “Hi Isabel, would you like some hot soup and a coffee today?” She quickly says, “Oh yes, that would be nice.” Isabel has a warm smile and a kind demeanor; she could be anyone’s grandmother, and no doubt is. Every time I see her I think she should be sitting in a rocking chair by a fire, maybe with a baby in her lap. Isabel took the coffee and soup with some kind words and I asked her “what are your plans today, on Christmas eve?. Isabel was quick to answer with a bright smile, “I’ve been invited to dinner at Siloam Mission today.” She said it as though she was going to the governor’s ball. Not wanting to pry or open old wounds, I was curious and had to ask, “why are you out here?” Isabel smiled and said “well things happen” and did not elaborate.

Many sit there as we approach them (my daughter and I) and when we actually get face-to-face with them, we can feel their story. Whether they are intentionally where they want to be, or marginalized by family or work struggles, the ultimate lesson is that everyone is different. People are homeless for various reasons, and needing help, and we have found some fulfillment in offering a small gesture of compassion. It is heart-breaking to really embrace the many challenges that different people face, many who are homeless and struggling.  The different stories, the people, it’s tragic and painful, but people need to know that it could happen to any of us. We’ve met people who have fallen astray of loss of work, in transit- trying to get home to their supports, and people who seem to be couch surfing and bus shack squatting, sometimes with a goal and sometimes aimless; they are all different. Regardless of why someone is out in the street or hiding from the wind in a bus shack, in -30C weather in the middle of the night, we have learned that a small compassionate act, an act of unconditional love, sharing a laugh or a short story, is incredibly rewarding as we connect with humanity.