What We Say (and Post) Matters More Than We Think
- Halcyon Frank
- Aug 15
- 3 min read
This is a topic that has come up in a few different places lately and will probably be a continual uphill battle, so let’s talk about something that doesn’t come up often enough in training manuals or shift briefings:
The power of what we say AND what we post.
There’s no denying that this job can be frustrating. Callers don’t listen. Officers don’t answer. Coworkers drop the ball. You get off a rough call and it’s tempting to hop on Facebook, find that dispatcher group, and let it all out. Or maybe you vent to your coworker with a little sarcasm, a lot of cussing, and some name-calling thrown in for good measure.
We tell ourselves it’s harmless.
That we’re just "blowing off steam."
That “We have to have a safe space to vent.”

I know this may be an unpopular stance with some, and that’s okay, but when I see people talking about how “dumb” callers are that they deserve to be put on hold and that a new dispatcher should pack “a stool and a rope” in their work bag, I get a little frustrated.
Because here’s the thing:
Every time we complain, we’re reinforcing the very negativity we say we want to escape. The brain doesn’t separate “just venting” from reality; it treats repeated thoughts and statements as truth. That negativity you keep voicing? It becomes your filter. Your lens. Your default.
And it’s not just hurting you.
Those “jokes” and rants about clueless callers or lazy coworkers? They paint all of us in a bad light. They chip away at the professionalism we’ve worked so hard to build and are still building. They make us sound like we don’t care, even if we deeply do. And for anyone outside the field watching—it shapes how they see all of us. (If you think that the social media groups for dispatchers are comprised of just those of us in the field and no one from the general public, I’ve got bad news for you. Also, we’re members of the public first before we’re dispatchers, so while we may all seem like we’re laughing, there’s other dispatchers telling themselves, “oh man, I do not want to work at their center”, or “I hope I never have an emergency in their town.”)
We also have to remember we don’t know everyone’s background. That joke you made that everyone laughed at? It may have seemed funny at the time, but now your coworker is potentially suffering in silence because how do you reach out for help in a place that seems to view mental health as a joke?
I’m not saying don’t feel your feelings. This work is tough. It should be talked about. But we can be real without being cruel. Do not misunderstand me, I love some dark humor and laugh at some things I maybe shouldn’t, I am speaking to myself just as much as anyone reading this. This is also not to say we shouldn’t joke or be honest, because no one would survive in this job if we didn’t, but we can process without tearing others down. And we can support each other in ways that leave us feeling lighter, not more weighed down.
So here’s your reminder:
You don’t have to join in when the bashing starts.
You can be the one who shifts the energy.
You can speak up for professionalism and kindness—without being corny or fake.
You can joke and enjoy your job without tearing down others or the industry in the process.
Because what you put into the world—spoken or typed—shapes your brain, your team, and our profession.
Let’s make it better.

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