At ten years old, I was not capable enough.

When my young friend came to me and asked me for help and advice on the very adult situation they were facing, I didn’t panic, and I didn’t betray their trust. And although I didn’t immediately know the right answer, I did provide the best answer and solution that I could perceive as a ten-year-old within a short time. But I also don’t know how they followed my advice or what the outcome totally was. I know some kind of change happened. I know I never saw my friend again. I live with knowing I did the best I could. And I live with never knowing.

For years I worked in public safety telecommunications, dealing with many types of emergencies. A dispatcher assesses, prioritizes, and acts – while simultaneously holding space for those relying on their skills: the field responders relying on the dispatcher’s voice and instruction over the radio, and an emotional caller pleading in their other ear the whole time, needing their own kind of comfort and direction. It’s a rare skill set, a different emotional and cognitive framework many people possibly never get access to outside an emergency.

Public safety has its challenges, and they’re not unrelatable. I am someone who has experienced long days, shift work, staffing shortages, not enough training, not enough resources, mandatory overtime, job duties that took me away from my family, and took me away from things I really wanted to be doing. I missed funerals and parties, worship, because someone had to stay at the “watchtower.” I answered the call. I experienced emotional trauma, grief, healing. Sometimes I experienced what felt like small miracles and elation, like water during the drought.

I spent all those years in public safety, and tried so hard to learn and grow, show up ready, be good at my job, improve, invest in my own education and interests. In spring of 2026 I decided to study and take the ENP test offered by NENA. I used to drive an hour to work, complete my (at least) 12-hour shift, drive home, and go study every night. That’s not that unusual. Many people do long days like this, and then some. When you’re choosing the long days, chances are pretty high that you care about what you’re doing. In the summer of 2026, I passed the test and earned the national certification. Nobody made me do it and few people knew I was trying, but I believe effort towards improving and having goals is good, and I felt good inside that I learned a lot.

But during this time, I was pouring from a cup that wasn’t being adequately refilled. I felt more capable and pride inside me, like I could learn and do a lot more if given the opportunity, but I also felt used up. It was the strangest feeling, quitting my job just weeks before taking the ENP test, but it felt like self-respect and regaining agency of my own life. I was a hard worker, and that’s important, but I am also a mother, a daughter, a sister, a friend. I was married and divorced. I had laundry, dinner, pets, things I was interested in, taxes, and community. I deserve respect.

It is not just time, practice, desire, and ability that gave me the opportunity to be a good dispatcher. It’s my values: intense curiosity, empathy, open-mindedness, communication, a desire to grow, and my desire for meaningful contribution. I looked at who I was, and who I was choosing to be. I looked at my heart and what it felt like to be me. I wasn’t a dispatcher at ten years old. But I did want to help. I am still that person.

I have come to understand that 911 is a metaphor for help just as much as it is a method for connecting to an operator and a service. It’s an empowered choice, an opportunity. It’s connection, hope, and help. That’s what it’s all about. Help.

I could have gone to another telecom center, but I asked myself a question: What would happen if I took my values, skills, and experience, and tried to solve problems in new and different ways? What new experiences would I have if I just met the world with all that I am, and met people where they are, and just tried to have a good time learning everything, solving problems, and exploring possibilities! After all, who I am isn’t limited to what I’m doing.

Public safety is worthy of hard work, feeling good about, and growing competent for. Love thy neighbor, right? I support that, and I want to work at something I believe is worth building. I believe in growing. And I believe in connection. I think this world highly needs both. And as we grow, we should ideally grow more harmoniously connected. So while I primarily speak to and for public safety about emergency telecommunications (and probably everything under the sun related to it) because that’s my familiar lens, I also desire to leave the door open and invite everyone else in too. Because my greater goal is to grow, connected. That will change the world. And I want to help leave this world better off if I can.

The 911 Lady is my more experienced self talking to my younger self as a new dispatcher, but also her family, the responders she dispatches and protects, the person who calls her, the people she may have disappointed, the exhausted nurse, the exhausted parent. And even the curious person who clicked on an article because some person called The 911 Lady has strong opinions about kitchen sinks!

I used to serve from inside the telecommunications center only. Now I am discovering how many ways and how many people I can serve in my community outside of that, but with all that wisdom. I may go back to work at a dispatch center and love it just like I always did, but I am finding excitement in not knowing how exactly it will turn out yet. I am on a journey. It turns out The 911 Lady has an adventurous side too.

I understand that all ages and with vast differences of education and comprehension, we all still come to a place where we need to connect, to seek the help of others. I wouldn’t claim to have all the answers or be able to solve all your problems. But I will be curious enough to explore, vulnerable enough to share, courageous enough to look, hopefully entertaining enough so that you won’t regret meeting me, and honest enough to tell you when I have no idea. And I would offer you a place to sit for a while, as we visit. We are all, after all, neighbors.