If It’s Not Bleeding, And It’s Not Burning, It’s Not An Emergency

by Sima Matthes (New York City)

I am crouched down, my face pressed against the back of my partner. It’s dark, and hot, and I am unable to see past my protective mask. It’s noisy—crackling and creaking all around, the sound of dripping water overhead—and yet strangely quiet. We advance, holding onto the hose, and hoping that we’re going to get to the fire before it gets any larger. I’m terrified and exhilarated. I can’t clear my head, so I scream—a deep, primal scream—and then, suddenly, I know what I’m supposed to be doing again.

We find our way toward the source of the heat, click the switch, and exit the exercise. Outside, I join my class of fellow firefighters, dirty, stinky and dripping with perspiration and condensation from the inside of our masks. We wait to be debriefed, then gear up for the next “evolution.”

This is not for the faint of heart, and I wonder how I got here.

Then I remember how, early in my legal education, I found myself drawn to the volunteer fire department. Yes, yes, I was being masochistic—really, who needs more to do while you’re in law school?—but I will defend myself by saying that it was summertime, I wanted to become an EMT, and my local department was offering the opportunity to become an EMT after completing probation.

The fire department was a real step outside my comfort zone. I was a fairly sheltered suburban girl with a college degree and higher aspirations, taking orders from men whose worldview was substantially more constricted than my own. Since then, I’ve met a number of women in law, technology and engineering who get their thrills and challenges in completely unrelated areas. Some skydive, some race cars, and some ride horses, but all of them experience something similar to what I did in the fire department: a sense of self that’s unparalleled.

I certainly left the fire department with an unusual skill set. I was a certified EMT, a department instructor for CPR, and knew how to hook up a truck to a hydrant in 10 different ways. I also learned some valuable life lessons.

1. If it’s not bleeding and it’s not burning, it’s not an emergency. This has served me well in the corporate world, and has helped me to keep work in perspective even when I’ve had a boss with no sense of proportion or priority. When I hear a ridiculous phrase like “it’s a title emergency,” I vet that through two filters. One is my knowledge of the person who has triggered the alarm; the other is my understanding that there is very little that is life threatening in Title Insurance. This allows me to approach most of my work with equanimity.
2. Try the door before you break the window. This is shorthand for paying attention to the most direct solution to whatever problem faces you, as well as recognizing that sometimes the most obvious solution is the correct one. There’s no sense in causing more damage than you have to.
3. Not everyone is the first one in. This refers to the post-call debriefing, in which all the young Turks I fought fires with claimed to be the first at the door. Obviously, space limitations make this physically impossible, although vying for glory knows no such limitation. It’s ok not to be the first through the door; however it’s not ok to miss the lessons learned by those who were first through.
4. Fear isn’t all bad. Only a fool fails to realize that fire is deadly dangerous and unpredictable. Without that realization, that reasonable fear, it’s easy to get hurt or injured in a fire. Similarly, people are often unpredictable, and can go a completely different way than you expect. It’s not necessary to fear people, but it is necessary to respect that which is unknown and unpredictable.
5. Keep your head down and your eyes open. It’s hotter at the top of a building that’s burning than it is at the bottom. That doesn’t mean that it’s cool on the first floor—everything is relative—but it’s quite a shock to discover that even in a “cool” room, the heat when you stand up is unbearable. You need to know where you are at all times, and keep yourself out of the heat as much as possible. In the business world, this means paying attention to the dynamics in any room you enter, and approaching situations with enough caution to keep yourself safe even as you get the work done.

Not every job requires such intense training, or allows you to literally forge your skills at high temperatures. I firmly believe that my fire department experience matured me in many important ways, and, although I occasionally miss the excitement, I’m glad to be in my bed whenever I hear the sirens fly by on a frozen or scorching night.