What I learned as a cop for kids

I’m a recently retired school resource officer and I’ve learned something about dealing with kids. According to EdWeek Research Center surveys, 70% of educators say student misbehavior has increased since pandemic-related school closures, and 60% of principals believe their teachers lack the adequate training to manage classrooms.

These revelations come as 42% of high school students report “persistent feelings of sadness or hopelessness” and school shootings remain a constant concern.

As a school resource officer, I was an on-site officer whose “on paper” job was to maintain security at two schools where I served highly specialized student types, one for kids pre-K to high school ages with autism and multiple disabilities and the other one for kids removed from other classrooms for behavior issues. But my real job was to help keep a calm school environment for students, educators, and parents.

Rarely a cop

I rarely had to be a cop. Mostly, what I learned is how one of the most important mental health crisis prevention steps is to simply build strong, personal relationships that help teens navigate dayto-day challenges and give them the foundation for long-term success.

In both of my schools, I observed how the smallest acts can have positive impacts. I made it a habit to greet students every morning as they got off the buses, encouraged them to address me by my first name, and went out to shoot baskets with them during free periods.

And eventually our conversations weren’t just laughing about silly jokes. I became a confidant. Treating them as individuals with unique needs helped me become better equipped to provide the safe, emotionally secure environment that teachers, principals, and parents want for all kids.

That doesn’t mean it’s always easy. Helping neurodivergent children requires patience and deliberate engagement. For these students, taking walks to relieve stress and regain focus helped them navigate sensory and other issues before they became overwhelming.

There were also times we’d just sit in my office and talk. I’d give a kid who was struggling a piece of sugar-free gum to chew — a simple practice of sensory focus that can help neurodivergent kids calm down and helps autistic children with their sensory needs.

Dealing with kids who had been removed from the classroom was often viewed as a real challenge. But I rarely had to resort to enforcing the law, because reaching them mostly required finding out what they liked and then intentionally engaging them. For example, one boy I had mentored loved Pete the Cat books, so we’d read them together as a reward for good classroom behavior. I also got permission to have lunch with a small group and we’d eat together and shoot the breeze every Friday.

Amazingly, the same gum-chewing tactics that I used with neurodivergent students worked just as well for the more challenging kids in my care. A simple stick of gum helps reduce agitation and improve focus, and offering it is an easy way to start a casual conversation.

The starting point

At the end of the day, it’s conversations that are the starting point for reaching vulnerable kids. Being fluent in Spanish and English, I saw how Hispanic students felt more at ease communicating with me because they and their parents often feel anxious about potential miscommunication.

Many states are taking steps to fund kids’ mental health care and to keep schools safe. But money can only support, not replace, the need for kids to feel cared for, invested in, and valuable. Sometimes, it’s just a basketball game or a Friday lunch; other times it’s a life-changing conversation that also leads to better behavior in the classroom.

Ultimately, it all holds at bay the tragic outcomes we’re all working to prevent; and it sets kids up for long-term success in every part of their wonderful lives.