Today we’d like to introduce you to Robert Hawkins.
Hi Robert, it’s an honor to have you on the platform. Thanks for taking the time to share your story with us – to start maybe you can share some of your backstory with our readers?
I was raised in the inner city of Los Angeles, in the heart of Inglewood—on Crenshaw and 104th Street. I grew up in a single-parent household where we faced financial hardships, and I’m truly grateful for Section 8 housing, which provided us with some stability. My neighborhood was rough at times, with violence, but it was also a place of community and protection. We looked out for each other. It was the kind of place where the block raised you.
As a youth, I made some wrong turns. But in my teenage years, my life was redirected when I got involved in school programs called Schools With a Purpose, led by Mr. Johnson (Mentor) and Peace Colors (violence, prevention program.) The two programs changed everything for me. It introduced me to the fire service and connected me with a group of Inglewood firefighters who took me under their wing. They mentored me, guided me, and helped me see a different path. That mentorship was critical—it helped shape my mindset and gave me the tools to pursue a career in the fire service.
With hard work and the support of my mentors, I became one of the youngest—and one of the first—Black firefighters hired by the Vernon Fire Department. A few years later, in 2003, I was hired by the Los Angeles Fire Department. It was a dream come true.
Throughout my career, I’ve made it a point to stay connected to the communities that raised me. I chose to work in South Los Angeles because I wanted to give back. I was assigned to Fire Station 64 on the outskirts of Watts, where I was surrounded by strong leadership. One of the sayings we lived by was that the front doors of the fire station should always be open to the community. That philosophy stuck with me. It helped me build relationships with neighbors and youth, and it inspired me to start mentoring the next generation of firefighters.
Over the years, I rose through the ranks—first promoted to Engineer and later to Fire Captain. I also spent time in our Recruitment Section, driven by a passion for sharing our profession with people from all backgrounds. I wanted to be a part of changing the face of the fire service and making sure it reflected the diversity of the communities we serve.
I’ve always been a proud member of the Los Angeles City Stentorians, an African American firefighter association founded in 1954 to fight racial injustice in the fire service. I started as the secretary of the executive board and eventually became the president of the organization. Today, our mission remains clear: recruitment, retention, and promotion of African Americans in the fire service. We believe that equity for us means equity for all.
The fight isn’t over. We continue to confront systemic challenges within the fire service, especially here in Los Angeles. But I remain committed. I know where I came from. I see the value of mentorship, community, and opportunity. And I know I wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for the people of Inglewood, who taught me the importance of loyalty, respect, and lifting others as you climb.
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
One of the biggest obstacles I faced in my journey from where I started to where I am today was learning how to merge two very different worlds. Before joining the fire department, I endured hardship, and survival and lived by a code designed for protection in a community where trauma was a part of daily life. Transitioning into the fire service meant taking on a new fight—one centered on equality, fairness, and systemic change. I had to reconcile those two philosophies and find a way to bring them together in a way that felt right and authentic.
What many people don’t realize is that some of us come into this job already carrying deep trauma and PTSD. We’ve lost best friends to gang violence, witnessed tragedy in our neighborhoods, and grown up in environments where compassion was often a luxury, not a given. And now, as firefighters, we face the added challenge of serving the same communities we came from yet the department often lacks the compassion and understanding needed to connect with the people we serve genuinely.
The fire department frequently talks about PTSD caused by the things we see on the job. But for some of us, that trauma didn’t start with the uniform it started at home, in our streets, long before we ever responded to our first call. Personally, I’ve lost multiple close friends I grew up with, played with, and shared my youth with. There was a time when I now realized I was experiencing something called survivor’s guilt.
What keeps me moving forward is my gratitude for my journey. I embrace where I come from and the experiences that shaped me. I’m extremely proud of who I am today, and I know that my past has given me the strength, empathy, and resilience I need to serve not just as a firefighter but as a voice for change.
Thanks for sharing that. So, maybe next you can tell us a bit more about your work?
One of my greatest accomplishments is promotion to the rank of Fire Captain. I highlight this not just for the title itself but because of what it represents to my family, friends, and community. They witnessed my journey from the very beginning and understood the challenges I had to overcome to reach this point. In recent years, I’ve taken on an even more significant leadership role as President of the Los Angeles City Stentorian. In this position, I work to examine and challenge the systems within the fire service, ensuring that it becomes a fair and equitable environment for all its members. This role comes with its share of highs and lows—leadership is not always easy, especially when facing resistance to change. But I’ve come to understand that our organization’s very name, “Stentorian,” derived from the Greek word meaning “a loud and powerful voice,” symbolizes our responsibility to speak on behalf of many.
What sets me apart and what I’ve been told by others is my courage to stand up and speak out, even when it’s uncomfortable. That courage comes from my roots in Inglewood, where I first learned the value of being on the front lines for what’s right. Over time, I’ve learned that courage alone isn’t enough; strategy is just as important, and I’ve worked hard to combine both. Today, I’m proud of the work I do and the leader I’ve become. I specialize in recruitment, retention, and promotion, in fighting for fairness and equity, and, most importantly, in serving the community with authenticity, compassion, and heart. There was a time I never imagined I’d be in this position, and for that, I remain profoundly grateful and proud.
Risk taking is a topic that people have widely differing views on – we’d love to hear your thoughts.
I answer this question with a smile because I absolutely believe in taking calculated risks. Over the years, I’ve learned that risk-taking, especially in leadership, isn’t about being reckless; it’s about being thoughtful and strategic and always keeping safety and long-term impact in mind. I believe strong leaders must be willing to step into uncomfortable spaces, but they also need to weigh the pros and cons, think ahead, and make decisions that benefit the greater good.
One of the earliest risks I took that’s always stayed with me was as a teenager. I didn’t have a car, but I needed to get to an opportunity that mattered. I walked from Inglewood to Los Angeles, from Century to Western, fully aware of the danger. Back then, that kind of risk meant walking through different gang territories, where even if you weren’t involved, you had to move with caution. I remember that moment clearly, and it’s a reminder of how much risk I was willing to take to move forward, even then.
Today, the risks I take look very different. As President of the Stentorians, one of the biggest risks is holding the fire department accountable for fairness and equity. That means speaking out, making tough calls, and sometimes being misunderstood even by fellow members of the department. It means pushing for culture change when it’s unpopular and facing resistance from systems built on superiority. But I always remind myself that these decisions are never personal. They’re intentional, they’re calculated, and they’re done with the goal of creating a better, fairer department for everyone.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/lacitystentorians?igsh=NTc4MTIwNjQ2YQ==
- LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/robert-hawkins-a33327297
