This is the first in a series of miniblogs that will expand upon certain generalized aspects of our lengthy training program. The topics are based on the questions I most often receive from all of you.
“What is the training like?”
The training program is roughly 60% classroom, 35% practical skills, 5% physical fitness. Remember back in school when chemistry, biology, and physics lectures would have corequisite lab work? It’s the same concept just a lot more interesting and with increased pressure to get it right. We first learn the theory in a formal setting through a combination of lectures, videos, and printed course material. Then, as applicable, we go out in a controlled test environment to physically practice the new skills. Driving is an easy example: in the classroom they teach us about vehicle weight, stopping distance, evasive maneuvers, etc. Later, we head to a track with a bunch of orange cones on it (which are not targets, by the way) and apply what we’ve learned. Sure, someone will occasionally crash one of the cars. But once the laughter dies down, we get serious again and treat it as a learning lesson.
The atmosphere is not quite what you would expect. This is not military boot camp, nor is it a police/firefighter recruit academy. While the concept of negative reinforcement is hard for some of the salty old ex-military instructors to shake, there are no red-faced drill sergeants screaming “Drop and give me 50!!!”. Nobody is setting us up for failure or trying to get us to quit. The culture here is all about mutual respect and professionalism. The instructors recognize that we were the select few chosen by our distinguished backgrounds and skillsets to protect the American way of life. All the while, we acknowledge that our teachers are the foremost experts in the tradecraft that will keep us alive as we fulfill such a mission. The instructor-student dynamic can be summed up in a single phrase that gets echoed quite often: “We’re all adults here.”
The schedule is full-time-plus, not including studying course material or commuting between class sessions. Occasionally we are still going at it in the evening for anything that needs to be done in darkness. Some of the days are robotic, with the concept of work-life balance being nonexistent when you literally live at work and have no support system to come home to. Every now and then we get lucky with a mid-afternoon release. The joy is short-lived as the extra time is swiftly consumed by a battle for a spot in the communal laundry room or a personal cross-country phone call to customer support for something that has been neglected back home. It isn’t uncommon to become torn between taking a nap or working out. This lifestyle has a way of becoming a dichotomy rather than a spectrum: we are either full tilt in the sympathetic nervous system or passed out on the bed drooling through REM with our clothes still on. Case in point, I’ve fallen asleep three times since I began writing this paragr-
The Dark Passport 