By Scott Dalton / sdalton@cnc.com


Police officer Jonathan Mitchell is a valuable resource for Harwich High teachers, administrators and even students

Harwich police officer Jonathan Mitchell is patrolling the corridors of Harwich High School, but is not attracting a lot of attention.

Students intent on getting to their next class barely give the uniformed presence a second glance. Those that do notice Mitchell offer a friendly, "Hi" or a quick wave.

Student Jared Ballam stops Mitchell, who asks him about his bandaged wrist. The two talk amiably for a few minutes before Ballam rushes off to class.

Mitchell could tell you stories; stories you might not want to believe. Tales of 14-year-old girls showing up drunk for school, telling Mitchell, "I'm getting too old for this s---." Students whose lives or circumstances have backed them into corners that no child should face.

He could tell you these stories, but he would rather focus on solutions.

Mitchell will tell you that Harwich's young people, like young people everywhere, face challenges. He'll tell you that alcohol remains the largest drug problem among students. He may tell you that he meets on a weekly basis with the town's youth counselor, Sheila House, HECH youth counselor Lynn Snow, and high school Vice Principal Janie Girolamo to make sure that there is a safety net in place for students who may otherwise fall between the cracks.

Four years ago, Mitchell was the school resource officer for the town of Harwich. He balanced his time between the elementary, middle and high schools as well as Cape Cod Regional Technical High School. He also tackled elder affairs and other "social" issues.

Then Police Chief William Mason joined the force. Mitchell recalls Mason asking each of the department's officers to sit down with him and explain their job. Mitchell says that when he finished, "the chief said, 'It sounds like you have nine different job descriptions. It would be hard to do any of them well. ...How about doing one school?' I almost laughed."

But Mitchell soon discovered Mason was serious.

"Since I have been here, the school resource officer program has been one of my priorities," Mason says, describing Mitchell as the "grandfather" of the program. "I can't say enough about the importance of building these relationships between the police and the youth in our community."

Today, officer Jeff Davis handles Cape Cod Tech, while officer Kevin Considine tackles the elementary and middle schools. Mitchell, who cut his school policing teeth at Cape Tech, said the school environments have evolved dramatically since he first started in the early 1990s.

"I went to (Cape Cod Tech Principal) Richard Curcio in the early '90s, and we talked about a 'park and walk' approach," Mitchell says. "During the first year, it was common for someone to yell out '5-O' at the top of their lungs when I came in the building, and I would hear people scurrying out the corners."

At first, there was a lot of "button pushing," according to Mitchell. Doughnut jokes were popular. One student in particular commented, "I smell bacon" every time Mitchell walked by. Then, as now, the officer knew how to defuse the situation.

"I said, 'Yes, but it's low fat, low sodium bacon,'" he says. "He let it go."

Eventually, Mitchell says, he felt accepted if not necessarily welcome at Cape Tech. Mason notes that Mitchell's presence allowed him to handle situations that otherwise would have risen to the point that "we would have been responding with a patrol car."

"The key to this is that the officers in the schools are aware of issues that are brewing," Mason says. "Things like destruction of property and fights are on the decline because the officers are intervening before they happen."

Mitchell's presence at Harwich High School has evolved as well, with students growing more and more comfortable with his presence. Today, some students are comfortable enough with Mitchell that they will come to him with problems they are having with classmates, parents, neighbors or even other police officers.

"The view of a lot of young people in town is that police are not kid-friendly," he says. "I don't agree with that, but perception is reality sometimes."

Mitchell adds that student/police interactions outside of school are often limited to situations that put both groups on edge. He says he is in a unique position to get to know the students in a controlled, non-confrontational setting. This carries with it a significant advantage, he says, as students may be more likely to open up about problems they are having. He cites the consistently high rates of substance abuse on Cape Cod, as well as the numbers of students who contemplate suicide.

"One of the things (students) express is, 'We're not taken seriously because we're kids.' It's easy to be dismissive with kids. It's a knee-jerk thing with adults sometimes to minimize kids' concerns. But we're making a big mistake if we don't at least listen," Mitchell says.

Mitchell says that there is a "really clear division" in terms of at-risk behavior between students who participate in organized activities, such as sports, drama or other extracurricular clubs, and those who don't. He quickly adds that such involvement is no panacea for problems.

"But the group that really worries me is the group who are not connected to anything," he says.

Community policing

Mitchell recalls his own Cape Cod childhood. Now 43, he grew up in Barnstable, working as a deck hand on a boat. The work was demanding. The captain a no-nonsense taskmaster. He joined the Brewster force in 1985, and was a special officer in Wellfleet in 1986 before joining the Harwich department the following year.

He says that as a fresh graduate out of the police academy, he quickly realized that he did not fit the traditional image of an enforcement officer.

"The 'Just the facts, ma'am' mode was not working for me at all," he recalls. Then the community policing method of involving police officers more directly in the communities they served came into vogue. Mitchell says former Lt. Manuel Gomes dragged him "screaming and shouting" to a community policing forum in Provincetown.

"And I said, 'Wow. This guy is right on target.'"

To create an effective community policing program, Mitchell emphasizes, there must be an underlying plan that takes community input into consideration. By connecting to the communities they serve, officers learn about underlying problems rather than simply dealing with the symptoms of those problems.

Mitchell segues from this into the story about the 14-year-old girl showing up for school drunk. A cloud passes over his face.

"What kind of future does this kid have?" he asks. "Will she choose recovery, or go down a different path? I saw a court report of a 32-year-old arrested for possession of heroin with intent to distribute. I've watched his decline. He went from party-er to part-time doper to dealer. ... It's a short trajectory."

On patrol

Mitchell is on his feet. He likes to be in the hallways when students are passing from one class to another. Now he's outside, taking the first of his two or three daily campus walks. He bumps into a group of students and stops to chat about what's going on in town.

"I listen for the rumbles as to where the parties will be and what's going on," he says.

Mitchell's "beat" extends beyond the high school grounds. The Community Center, the skateboard park and Brooks Park are all within his purview. He keeps an eye out for anything or anyone unusual. Walking through the parking lot behind the school, he pauses and peers into a student's vehicle. What appears to be an herbal substance and some red paper are sitting in the front seat. Mitchell is on the phone to Girolamo, who quickly joins him in the parking lot.

It turns out that the dried leaves belong to an old boutonnière and the red paper is a Starburst wrapper. Mitchell makes a note to contact the student, just in case someone tells them that the police were snooping around the vehicle.

"I think I know who owns this vehicle," Mitchell says, closing his notebook. "The kid's a good kid. But I never get in the habit of saying, 'Oh, they're a good kid. There's no problem here.'"

Girolamo, a veteran of the New York school system, says having Mitchell on site is "absolutely fabulous."

"It means we can be more proactive," she says. "So many kids and parents use officer Mitchell as a resource."

Superintendent Joseph Gilbert later echoes Girolamo's comments.

"He is an extremely valuable resource," Gilbert says. "We're lucky to have him."

In the classroom

It's the end of the day, and Mitchell is trying to hold the attention of a group of freshmen. He's talking about alcohol. He's asking the students to hold off on experimenting. He relates first-hand accounts of stopping people swerving all over the road; of people aspirating on their own vomit. But it's Friday afternoon. The sun is out and graduation weekend is coming up.

Then he brings out the simulator goggles.

The goggles simulate how someone who has been drinking alcohol sees the world. One by one, the students try them on and try to walk a line. They wobble, flailing for balance. They're laughing, but their tone is changing as well. One student veers off the line completely.

"I think I'd be loading Matthew into the wagon right now," Mitchell says as the student careens into a desk. "Yeah, that'd be it for Matthew."

Mitchell has also spent time in government classes, talking with students about the limits of free speech and providing a "cop's eye view of the law."

"It's a fine balancing point," he says. "I enjoy getting involved in the academic process where possible. I don't want to be an occupying force in the school. We have a really neat bunch of kids here."