Weapons of mass destruction aren't something you'd expect to encounter on, say, a trip to the grocery store. But they lurk in everyday settings. Just ask anyone who's attended the FBI Citizens Academy.

During one of the academy's meetings in a field office in Brooklyn Center, a special agent talked about being called to investigate a guy who dumped depression medication into a Roseville supermarket's hot food bar. And a young woman who produced ricin, a natural poison from castor beans, in her Dinkytown apartment. And the luxury car enthusiasts who received white-powder letters after treating Interstate 394 like a NASCAR track.

Each year, Citizens Academy offers about 40 people with wide-ranging backgrounds — teacher, banker, pilot, executive coach, former mayor — a peek inside the bureau's operations. A few even get inside a bomb suit, transforming themselves into a sort of Army green astronaut. ("If you're sitting on top of a device, this is going to eat shrapnel," a bomb tech explained.)

Though the Minneapolis FBI has hosted Citizens Academy for more than 20 years, its community engagement efforts have become more relevant as trust in law enforcement has fallen. Since 2020, Gallup polls have shown that public confidence in both police and the FBI slipped below 50% for the first time in decades.

The academy is designed to educate the public about the FBI's work and cultivate a diverse group of informal ambassadors, who tip them off to issues in their communities. But it's also about humanizing the bureau's elite, dark-suited agents, explained Alvin M. Winston Sr., the Minneapolis FBI's special agent in charge, who, despite his rarefied role, fist-bumped a participant one night and addressed a colleague as "bro."

"We want to be transparent in all that we do, because we need the public to trust us," Winston said. "We don't want to be the agency where the first time you're meeting us is us knocking on your door asking for an interview, or taking somebody away."

From bombs to polygraphs

Many Americans pay about as much attention to the FBI as they do the agency's anti-piracy warnings on movies, which is to say very little.

"I've met a ton of folks who'll tell me, 'I've never met an FBI agent. Is it like 'Big Momma's House?' " Winston said.

That's why the Citizens Academy offers an overview of the FBI's responsibilities. Its top priority is terrorism, but the agency investigates everything from public corruption to civil rights violations to crime (organized, violent, white-collar, cyber). The local office's territory includes Minnesota and the Dakotas, protecting everything from military bases to Fortune 500 secrets.

This year's nine sessions even included a field trip to a gun range and a chance to buy FBI merch (an apron read "FBI Top Secret Recipes: I'd tell you, but I'd have to grill you.").

One week, an agent explained the types of explosive devices his team encounters, from rudimentary pipe bombs to sophisticated, remote-controlled weapons. He shared how FBI bomb techs have been called to oopsies at University of Minnesota chemistry labs. ("Does the U pay for that?" "No.") And how they get a surprising number of calls regarding grandpa's ancient grenade in the garage. And the alarming accessibility of DIY bomb-making, with instructions on the dark web using ingredients as common as brake fluid and powdered sugar.

The next week's session included a lighthearted demonstration of a serious tool: the polygraph, commonly known as a lie detector machine. The polygraph examiner explained that the tests are real (the agency uses them for job applicants, employees and investigations) and that they work (he cited research that showed about 85% accuracy).

He enlisted a volunteer to go to another room, pick one candy bar from a selection of sweets and deny the act. The volunteer was then hooked up to one component of a polygraph machine, which detects finger sweat. After a few warmup questions, the examiner asked if he knew anything about a missing candy bar. "Was it a Twix?" "A KitKat?" "A Snickers?" "A Reese's?"

The volunteer replied "No" to each question. But based on his increased sweat, the examiner suggested he was lying about the Reese's. When the volunteer admitted he was correct, the room erupted in applause.

Curious and questioning

Lawrence Chui, an accounting professor at the University of St. Thomas, has an interest in financial fraud. That's why he applied to Citizens Academy. Chui said he was most surprised to learn that the FBI dealt with civil rights violations.

"What comes to mind when you hear FBI is, 'Somebody got shot,' " he said. "We get all our information from Hollywood."

While many of the people who sign up for the academy have a relatively positive perception of the profession, that's not always the case.

The agency has recently weathered criticism for warrantless surveillance, investigations of former President Donald Trump and Black Lives Matter protesters and its use of informants to root out young Somali Minnesotans recruited to foreign terrorist groups. But Winston says he welcomes scrutiny.

"We're not going to shy away from any of the tough questions, because this is our opportunity to peel back the layers," he said, noting that some information must remain classified. "I'm a believer in making sure we share until it hurts."

For Citizens Academy participant Juan Fernandez, a portfolio manager, his negative associations with law enforcement stemmed from growing up in Venezuela, where he said officials commonly solicited bribes. "You see someone who works for the equivalent of the FBI there and you think, 'This is not a good guy,' " he said. "So far what I've seen here is completely the opposite," he said. "They're normal people."

Even if the agents came off as relatable, their jobs are anything but. Nor is their seeming preternatural calm in the face of danger and horror.

The bomb tech kept casually referring to a threat that needed neutralizing as a "problem" or "problem set," as if it were calculus homework and not, say, a massive chemical fire. One moment an agent was describing his job as "fun." The next, his colleague was relaying how she'd handcuffed a criminal engaged in sex-trafficking a toddler. ("The most rewarding part was seeing the light drain from his face.")

Throughout the sessions, the class peppered the agents with questions ("How is the 10 Most Wanted list selected?" "How are reward amounts set?"). But they also had more personal queries, including how the agents de-stress from traumatic experiences (talk to each other, exercise, "frankly we probably do compartmentalize some of it") and if they have any work-life balance (not really, phones come on vacation).

Even after nine weeks, participants' curiosity hadn't flagged. On the final night, Winston curtailed his closing remarks because there were still so many hands raised in the air.

For information about the 2024 Citizens Academy, check the Minneapolis FBI's community outreach page and social media accounts for an announcement. Candidates may self-nominate and those asked to apply must consent to a background check. Municipal police departments and county sheriffs' offices around the state also hold citizen academies.