L and Z get out into the field, looking for your baby daddy.

Getting out into the field entails interviewing witnesses, canvassing the crime scene, serving subpoenas, retrieving documents from police stations, locating witnesses... basically all the investigations that occur outside the office, the jail, or the courtroom. Our field is the District's South East, and getting into the field may only be a few minutes drive, but it's an entirely different world. 

Z, my partner, and I haven't logged too many hours in the field, but most of what I've seen so far leaves me wondering if I've stepped into a movie or one of those crime TV shows. The only reason I know the field is real is because it's so much worse than any movie I've seen. Violence, drugs, alcohol, sex, lies, money... it's all there but so much more complicated in any movie. And the worst part is that, unlike a movie, it never ends. You never figure out the truth. You never stop anything. You never get to feel at peace with the world. 

But being out in the field has redoubled my love for humanity. I've never seen so much devotion, passion, hope, determination, love, loyalty, or vigilance anywhere else. Everyone I meet, no matter what he or she has done, I can't help but love and respect.

I've never feared anyone I've met. I've learned to fear the situation, the drugs, the weapons, the alcohol, the circumstances... but never the person. 

I will probably never learn the truth about anything I investigate. It seems like after every witness interview, every piece of evidence uncovered, every investigative task, I know less and less of what really happened. I can honestly say I only know one thing to be true: every one I meet is human. And, for whatever reason, I think that's all I need to know. 

When we leave the field and head back into the office to process our paperwork, sometimes I wonder at the fact that what we call "the field," others call "home".