My first crisis hotline call caught me off guard. I’d seen the movies: police officers leaning over with headsets, anxious voices in a bustling room, and flashing call lights that never dim. That’s what I imagined when I came to observe the Crisis Center’s Gateway Contact Center on a cloudy Friday morning.
Instead, I stepped into a space that felt more like a family living room than a command hub. Warm lighting. Hushed whispers. Posters on the wall that read: No capes. People want to be heard, not fixed.
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