A correct security code.
Or a credible witness.
The exercises weren't designed to punish hesitation.
They were designed to teach officers that slowing down an encounter could be the most professional decision available.
Supervisors were also trained to recognize when a subordinate raised a legitimate concern.
An officer pointing out contradictory evidence wasn't necessarily challenging authority.
Sometimes that officer was preventing a serious mistake.
The complaint-review process changed as well.
The department adopted stronger requirements for documenting why allegations were sustained, unsupported, or otherwise resolved.
Reviewers received clearer guidance about examining relevant recordings rather than relying exclusively on incident summaries.
Complaints involving similar conduct could be considered together to identify patterns, while each allegation still required individual assessment.
A new early-intervention process helped supervisors identify officers who repeatedly generated concerns about unnecessary escalation, discourteous conduct, or failures to verify identity.
Naomi insisted that the system not become a tool for automatically assuming guilt.
Officers needed fair procedures.
Context mattered.
And an unusual assignment might expose an officer to more complaints than a routine one.
But fair review also meant taking residents' experiences seriously.
A person shouldn't have to suffer a major injury before an allegation of unnecessary force or abusive conduct deserved examination.
The department began offering clearer explanations to complainants about the status and resolution of their reports, subject to appropriate confidentiality limits.
Naomi also supported a community advisory process involving residents from different backgrounds.
Teresa Alvarez was invited to participate.
So was Darius Coleman.
They weren't asked to become symbolic supporters of the department.
They were asked to explain which parts of the complaint process had failed them and what meaningful communication would look like.
Some conversations were uncomfortable.
Naomi welcomed that.
She believed a department that couldn't listen to criticism without becoming defensive would never earn lasting trust.
Walter Harris became an unexpected voice in the reforms.
At sixty-six, he had no ambition to become a public figure.
He'd simply been standing in his house when he heard Naomi shouting.
But his recording preserved details that might otherwise have become disputed.
When the community advisory group invited him to speak, Walter was initially reluctant.
He didn't want to give speeches.
Didn't want to appear on television.
And didn't enjoy having strangers ask why he decided to record the encounter.
Naomi called him personally.
"Mr. Harris, you don't have to participate if you don't want to."
Walter laughed softly.
"Chief, you know you can call me Walter."
She smiled.
"All right, Walter."
He considered the invitation.
Then asked a question.
"Would you want me there if I hadn't known who you were?"
Naomi paused.