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Reflection Paper On Drill Experience

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It was 1500 hours on a sizzling summer day in Nashville, Tennessee. I stood with pride in the same spot my dad, grandfather, and Uncle once stood awaiting to meet the drill instructors at the Tennessee Law Enforcement Training Center. I was a big-headed, unorganized 18-year-old with a bad attitude, who was about to be faced with a tough 12 weeks. I was standing there, because being a police officer was something I had always wanted to do. Through the next 12 weeks, I would be molded into a new person by reaching a low and learning how to cope with tough situations. While the Commander was talking, I thought about how much this moment meant to me and how happy I was about being here. I stood tall in my crisp uniform and polished boots, my first attempt at doing laundry and polishing boots was a success in my mind. After the Commander gave his final remarks he walked off stage with a moment of peace following, a loud slam of a door interrupted that peace. The slam was trailed by what seemed to be hundreds of drill instructors roaring in barking orders. I stood in line with 35 other cadets, as the drill instructors individually examined us as if through a microscope. It was my turn; as I stood face to face with two drill instructors I was not worried. Then a single dog hair was found on my uniform along with several wrinkles, I was quickly on my face doing pushups with drill instructors around me yelling at the top of their lungs. This quickly washed away my arrogance, it

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