I’ve heard a lot about “this generation” around the firehouse. The comments range from “This generation doesn’t know anything that’s not computer based” to “This generation doesn’t remember when you had to roll down a window instead of pressing a button.” These comments give me pause. What exactly are we expecting out of “this generation”?
It is true that the current generation of recruits probably doesn’t have the construction background that previous firefighters may have had. Most recruits nowadays have spent far more time keeping up with social media than driving a nail with a hammer. That means the fire service is changing and maybe even evolving.
I remember a time when the department leaders thought higher education was a waste of time and the only lessons you needed were those taught to you by the guys who had been to the most fires. Today, you would be hard pressed to meet the minimum standards to apply for a position without a college degree. That shows the fire service is changing and maybe asking for a higher level of competency before new members even get in the door.
This isn’t to say the previous generations don’t have important lessons. Their real-world practical experience is invaluable when you think of the decrease in the number of fires compared to only a decade or two ago. Maybe it’s time we try to find some middle ground between the crispy, grizzled veteran and the tech-savvy probie.
Budgets rely heavily on the public opinion that maybe we can employ our new recruits to teach us how to reach the mass populace. Can we take the attitude that while we are teaching them to use a saw for the very first time in their lives they can show us how to reach thousands of people by using Twitter or Facebook?
Since I joined the fire service, the emphasis has always been on handing down knowledge. We shouldn’t become frustrated when a new group doesn’t catch on right away. We should face that challenge the same way we face every other challenge, by holding our heads up high and adapting and overcoming. Training situations will face new challenges, but I would bet that the younger generation knows a better way to present information to make it relevant and accessible to more people.
I wonder what our predecessors thought of my generation and yours. Did you think you were going to set the world on fire (sorry for the pun) when you walked through the station doors for the first time? Were you a little scared, a little unsure, and just hoping that whoever you got as a trainer/mentor would give you some leeway and a fair opportunity to learn?
This is the greatest job in the world, and not everyone is cut out for this line of work. But who in your department sets the standards? Is this something that should be reevaluated? I am not talking about decreasing the competency. I’m talking about the unwritten standards: Who sets the standard on how to talk like a firefighter, look like a firefighter, and act like a firefighter? I think it’s dangerous to prejudge “this generation”; what other options do we have? And what comes after this generation?
The brothers and sisters we bring on down the road might bring different challenges than we’ve experienced before. Didn’t we choose this profession to help people, to make a difference, to resolve challenges? We can be valuable participants in bridging the gap between generations. Frankly, if we don’t want these challenges or have given up on this generation, maybe it’s time for us to reevaluate our generation.
Steven Black
Captain/Training Officer Cornelius (OR) Fire Department
Toward better health
The Web column “CoQ10 and Heart Function” (To Your Health, June, fireengineering.com) is a great article. This is work that genuinely matters to people like me. I am a responding firefighter/paramedic, and although I kept some level of fitness, I did less about diet.
The “lofty heights” of leadership, a combination of keyboard addiction, and eating habits that could have been better brought me to the place where I realized that my future would be really dim if I did not improve some of my lifestyle choices. My granddaughters are the most precious gifts God put in my life, and I will change so that I am around to influence them.
There are countless copies of me in the U.S. fire departments, and it’s meaningful writing like this that can help keep us from being counted in our damnable fatality statistics. Many thanks!
Perry Bailey
Program Coordinator
South Carolina Fire Academy
A tale of two turnovers
It’s 7 a.m., and Firefighter Tom is on the rig checking his self-contained breathing apparatus. He is relieving Firefighter Joe, who walks up to grab his gear and give Tom a turnover.
Turnover #1
FF Joe: Hey man, we didn’t do much-one alarm and a fire that was mostly BS; nothing to it. The Delta walkie is out of service.
FF Tom: Sounds good, my brother. Plans today?
Engineer Billy (walking by): He’s got an appointment for a mani/pedi.
Turnover #2
FF Joe: Hey man, what’s happening? We had one alarm and a fire. Wasn’t much to the fire. It was off Clemens Ferry, past the gas station. Commercial building. The dumpster in the back caught on fire, and that caught a couple of roll doors. It was mostly just exterior though by the time we had it out. One thing I did learn: We were doing overhaul and trying to pull some trim off the exterior. It was tough to get because of the height and the angle we were at-until we started working together, one guy wedging in and the other guy wedging in the same spot but able to get in a little deeper. We just kept going down the trim like that until it came off.
Engineer Billy (walking by): That’s the same way you pull tongue and groove apart-or start it anyway.
Joe: Anyway, simple stuff, man, but thought I’d mention it. That’s about it. Oh, the alarm we went to was right on the corner, Seven Farms and Pier View. The medical office. The alarm was going off on all four floors; it turns out the top floor is an apartment with a young couple in it. Pretty sweet place, one of those loft-style apartments. She was cooking steaks and set off the alarm. She was pretty cute, too, and cooking steaks at 10:30 at night? What? My kind of girl. Anyway, the owner came out and reset the alarm. Good to know there’s an apartment up there in case we ever get a fire call. That’s about it. Have a safe one.
Tom: Thanks, brother. Will do. Enjoy your two off.
Joe (walking away): Oh, Delta’s walkie is out of service, just the lapel mic. It’s reported, and Chief brought it down. Echo’s lapel mic is on Delta’s walkie. See ya.
Joe and Tom are relatively new to the fire service, but the difference between the two turnovers could also be evident in a conversation between two captains or two chiefs. The content would be different, but the danger of missed learning opportunities would still be there.
In the fire service, so much of what we know is learned on the job through direct experience. Gaining that knowledge and experience is a mark of pride for all firefighters. All too often, though, we are limited in what we share; we oversimplify experiences that are filled with nuggets of wisdom. Even mundane calls-especially those calls, since they are much higher in number-offer opportunities to learn. If we truly do “learn something on every call,” why aren’t we sharing that knowledge more often and more effectively with the oncoming shift?
Brian Champlin
Firefighter/EMT
Charleston (SC) Fire Department
Fire Engineering Archives
