So how did I choose the eight cadets to follow through the year?

First of all, people might be surprised to learn that the Bakersfield Police Department was sort of adamant about staying out of the process. I never did figure out what level this decision was made at, since Chief Bill Rector seemed to think that the BPD was going to choose the cadets, but he also didn't seem to really care how it was done. Either way, the department had no involvement in who I thought should be part of the project.

But they did help fill out my ranks. So I showed up to orientation night at the end of June with this idea for the project, the blessing of the BPD, and no participants. That night was when I told Rector that I was going to ask for volunteers. He said something to the effect of, "Well, you'll get 38 volunteers." (That was the number of cadets at the time.)

I thought, "Isn't that cute? So optimistic, so hopeful, so completely wrong." But since this wasn't the appropriate time to tell the chief of police I thought he was clueless -- and even as a reporter, those times are few and far between -- I just told him I hoped he was right.

He wasn't. I got up in front of the group, gave a little speech about how fun I thought the project was going to be, and got one volunteer.

Uno. Ein.

Great.

But what was an excellent stroke of luck was the point in the evening where all of the cadets stood up and introduced themselves. This was genius. Now I had names and a very basic bio, which would help me choose a diverse group.

I left the orientation with four phone numbers, one from my lone volunteer and three from people who at least agreed to allow me to try to convince them to participate. Only two of those four ended up being part of the project, by the way. But I wasn't overly worried because I had the names, and I had an ally.

I knew these would-be cops, who were already getting ready to embark on a new and stressful experience, would be hesitant to sign up to put their names in the paper. (Plus, cops in general avoid the media like we're a communicable disease.)

The only way they'd agree was if they knew the department was really behind the project. Fortunately, the PIO at time, Detective Ryan Paslay, instantly got what I wanted to do. I had pitched the idea long before he held that post, and been it had been met with a lukewarm response. He was immediately enthusiastic about it, and he was willing to put in some effort on the project's behalf.

A quick aside that still makes me chuckle. At one point he and I were discussing what the project would be and the basic purpose behind it. We both kind of saw it as a documentary or reality show.
"It'll be like 'Basketball Diaries,'" he said.
"Um, Ryan, 'Basketball Diaries' is the story of a kid spiraling into heroin addiction. I really hope you mean 'Hoop Dreams,'" I said.

Anyway, Paslay's powers of persuasion were far more effective than mine. I gave him a list of names and asked him to give me phone numbers. Instead, the cadets called me, usually within moments of getting off the phone with him. He swears he made it clear participation was voluntary, and I've never found Paslay to be especially intimidating, but I'd still love to know exactly what he said to those guys on the phone.

--CS