Funding School Resource Officers

Starting at 11:18 a.m., until all 700 students are fed, the bell rings every 30 minutes at Avon Park Middle School. Angelic Sanchez roams the halls in her blue uniform, pistol on her right, eight pouches on the left side of her gunbelt.

About five feet tall with a round face, she doesn't look formidable. But the sixth, seventh and eighth graders clearly respect her, and they also consider her an adult friend and a confidant.

One seventh-grader stopped Sanchez in the hall. One of the girl's teachers accused the student of using the "A" word. Sanchez couldn't interfere, but counseled the girl anyway, and in the few minutes they had between classes, Sanchez spoke with two dozen children.

One boy casually laid a hand on her left shoulder as she passed. She hugged two in a group of six. Then there were two more embraces, both heartfelt. She passed by a special education classroom, and spoke to three of the students closest to the door.

Jean Federico saw Sanchez and crossed the classroom. "I hope they can afford to keep the SROs here," the veteran teacher here. These days, students will threaten their teachers. "I've had a few chair throwers."

She feels safer with Sanchez around.

Who Should Pay?

A week ago, in the Avon Park budget meeting, City Manager Sarah Adelt, needing to cut back $150,000, suggested schools pay more of the SRO's expenses.

Currently, the school board and the city share the salaries of Sanchez, her SRO counterpart at Avon Park High School.

Adelt wants schools to split the cost of the squad car, gasoline, uniforms, employee benefits, training and other costs.

The two SROs cost the department about $83,000 a year, Chief Matt Doughney said. The officers work at the middle school and high school on school days, and they're on the street the rest of the year, filling in for patrol officers.

Although Doughney is a veteran police officer, he has never served in the schools, so he shadowed Sanchez on Friday.

By 10:30 a.m., the two law enforcement officers had handled six incidents, two of which could have escalated into major confrontations had they not been diffused, Doughney said. If he wasn't when the day started, by mid-morning, he was clearly an admirer of Sanchez.

"How do you place a value on this?" he asked, speaking as an administrator. Sanchez has been on the job eight years, and took over the SRO job five years ago. Now, students approach her every day. She knows their siblings and their parents, their joys and their woes. She knows when they're in trouble, and how well they're dealing with it.

"You look depressed," she entreated one tall eighth grader who passed by on a sidewalk. He shrugged, expressionless, not stopping or speaking.

"What's wrong?" He kept going. She knows something's wrong, and she'll try again later.

Her most important mission, Sanchez said, is to be there - to talk with kids. "Getting their heads in the right place."

SROs are stationed in the schools because a police presence is a good idea, just like it is on any city street. When students who are spoiling for a fight see her, they scatter, she said.

The Old Days

Before Susan Benton came to Highlands County, she was a school resource officer in Miami-Dade. As a Highlands County deputy, she started the SRO program, and worked in schools for years.

When Adelt brought up her idea, city councilors talked about the possibilities: perhaps they could require schools to pay 75 percent of the cost, if the city's officer really spent that much time on campus. Doughney said he's still determining how much time the officers spend on campus, what their real costs are, and what the proper reimbursement ratio should be.

The alternative, for the schools, is to hire security guards or start their own police force, the councilors suggested.

That's possible, Benton suggested Thursday. Miami-Dade, Palm Beach and other urban schools have police forces.

"They even have their own canines," Benton said. Security guards aren't as good an idea, because they would lack arrest powers, she said. Besides, Doughney added, security guards couldn't make arrests, and couldn't interact with city and county officers as well.

Schools with police officers are on duty 24 hours. They would patrol their own campuses at night, and answer the alarms, Benton said.

There's also a quality issue. Deputies who serve as school resource officers are also certified, Benton said. "Every summer, they're in some kind of training."

Benton is satisfied with her 50-50 arrangement with schools, she said. So are Sebring Commander Steve Carr and Sebring City Manager Scott Noethlich.

"I can't speak for the council," Noethlich said. "But no one on the council has indicated they want to change that agreement.

"Besides," Noethlich added, "the schools may be even more financially strapped than the city and the county. If we were to require them to fund 75 percent or 100 percent, we may see SROs go away."

That's a thought he's unwilling to contemplate.

Nor is Benton. "They make a real difference, community wide," the sheriff said. "Having officers there helps our agency."

Adelt isn't interested in a 75-25 split, she said Friday. In the coming fiscal year, she simply wants the city to pay $83,000, and the schools to pay the same.

"We know the value that is there," Adelt said. "We are interested in keeping the SROs in the schools. But it's something we definitely need to take a look at."