To Protect and Serve

When it comes to building relationships and finding common ground, Carleton security officers are already ahead of the curve.

In an era of intense debate about race and policing in America, law enforcement organizations of all types have come under scrutiny. In a number of communities, that’s led to deep discussions about what it would take to move away from a more traditional focus on enforcement and confrontation toward a wider vision of public safety.

Carleton’s Security Services already operates within a version of this increasingly popular vision. They are unarmed, they are not authorized to use force, and they make only “citizen’s arrests.” As a department information sheet explains: “We are not here to get students into trouble. We serve as a resource and we want to help get students to graduation in one piece. We put health and wellness needs ahead of enforcement.”

In the wake of a growing awareness that many citizens, especially people of color, are routinely mistreated by law enforcement, Carleton security has doubled down on its efforts to be seen not as authority figures, but as friends, advisers, and, yes, even locksmiths, in times of need.

In part, this reemphasis on mission — and the way certain students may or may not perceive the presence of “campus cops” — was sparked by a list of demands sent to senior leadership in the wake of George Floyd’s murder in the spring of 2020. Included in the document, submitted by the Black Student Alliance (BSA), was a request that all security personnel undergo mandatory anti-racist training “with an independent Black antiracism educator.”

The demand found a receptive audience in John Bermel, director of security and emergency management. Just two months after taking his Carleton post, in February of 2019, Bermel began setting up diversity and anti-bias training for all 11 of his officers. In March of that year, the group attended an online video training session. (A second, in-person session had been scheduled for the following spring, but the event was canceled due to COVID.)

In response to the BSA’s petition, Bermel hired Leon Tazel III, whose Tazel Institute works to expose BIPOC youth to various professions and training opportunities. (The two had met when Tazel took a group of young men to learn about the Apple Valley Police Department, where Bermel served for 33 years, the last four as a captain.)

Additionally, in October 2020, the college adopted a series of “Impartial Service” standards that both prohibit racial profiling and establish behavioral guidelines aimed at ensuring all security services personnel model “professional and respectful” behavior when interacting with members of the Carleton community. For Bermel, being “professional and respectful” in an interaction means “we are listening first, being courteous, being kind, being supportive,” rather than taking an aggressive or confrontational stance.

Carleton is not unique in the limits it places on its security personnel. Only two campuses in Minnesota — the University of Minnesota’s Twin Cities and Duluth locations — have security services made up officers who take an oath to uphold the United States Constitution, as well as state and local laws. This makes them agents of the government and allows them to use force. “Unsworn” officers, like those at every other Minnesota college or university, are forbidden to carry guns or make arrests.

“Within those limits there’s a range of approaches on the different campuses,” Bermel says. “Some services are more focused on enforcement, others are more relational. We’re on the relational side. For [assistant director of security services and emergency management/ Blake Held and me, the biggest challenge is getting creative to find ways to create relationships with the people we serve and retain that relational capital. Our officers take as many opportunities as they can to talk with students.”

For instance, says Held, “while walking patrol through the buildings, officers will see students in a study lounge or somewhere. They’ll say hello. Maybe a student has a question, and they ask the officer. And then that turns into a 20-minute conversation about what’s going on with them and what they need from us.”

Security offers a wide range of services, which includes providing safe, 24-hour escorts on campus and areas immediately adjacent, handling emergency evacuations, and helping students register their bikes. The officers also enforce parking regulations, keep an eye out for suspicious activity, and help respond to complaints of theft and other crimes.

Bermel notes that his department has a close cooperative relationship with the Northfield police and the sheriff ’s offices of Washington and Rice counties, but there are no contractual ties, and his department will only summon those authorities when emergency personnel is required or if asked. “If a student or a community member says ‘my laptop is missing,’” Bermel says, “we’ll make our report and then ask them, ‘Would you like us to contact the police department so you can make a report to them?’ We’ll facilitate that contact.”

Tazel’s observation that a uniform can be a source of tension illustrates a delicate balance that Bermel and his colleagues work to maintain. Before Bermel’s arrival, security uniforms were actually a little too low-profile, he says. The white shirts that the officers wore had shoulder patches, but nothing else identifying them as security. If they were wearing their (unmarked) jackets, they were indistinguishable from civilians — or impostors. “It made me nervous,” says Bermel, “because you could go to Fleet Farm and get a black pair of Dickie work pants, a black jacket, and a white dress shirt, and you’re Carleton security.”

While it was important that the officers not look too “coppish,” as Bermel puts it, they also needed to be immediately identifiable to anyone who needs assistance. Bermel added patches to his staff’s jackets and to the fronts of their uniforms. Officers’ names were embroidered above their right shirt pockets.

Besides personalizing security’s presence, the name tags provide a layer of transparency and accountability, which is increasingly important in a reform-minded environment, and was the impetus behind the recent addition of body cameras at Carleton. While officers didn’t begin wearing the devices until mid-November, Bermel began talking about the initiative months ago, along with other security-related issues, at meetings held by the Security Services Advisory Group. Made up of staff, faculty, and students — as well as Bermel and Held — the 11-person advisory group began meeting in 2019.

Faculty representative Bill North says the group provides “an open forum” to discuss security issues at Carleton. “There’s often an agenda that John develops, and we are invited to contribute to it,” says North, a history professor. “We can bring forward issues that have been brought to us or that we’ve observed. Usually there’s also a series of ongoing projects on which we receive updates, like the phasing in of body cams.”

The group is also available to campus members who may have ideas or concerns. Last spring, for instance, a student raised objections to how a classmate was treated in an encounter with a security officer, and the reporting student was invited to attend a meeting.

“We asked John [Bermel] and other security officers about the behavior of the officer involved,” North says. “There was a limited amount of information that could be shared because of confidentiality, so we talked more at the level of policy.”

When Carleton recently acquired two new Ford Interceptor SUVs for Bermel’s department, the advisory group was consulted on how best to label them so that, like the service’s uniforms, “the message they sent could be both positive in tone and informative,” North says. “My impression is that in setting up the advisory group, John was attempting to create better communication, a greater level of awareness of security policy, and to not have security personnel making decisions in a vacuum.”

Recently a Voice writer went on a ride-along with Steve Hanson, a 31-year veteran and the service’s senior officer.

Before climbing into an Interceptor at Hoppin House, Security Services’ HQ, Hanson and colleagues Chuck Schauss and Christy Johnson showed off a bank of monitors, which are linked to the entrances of select buildings on campus and all of the residence halls. There are also cameras on the blue-lit poles that are ubiquitous on walkways and in the Arb. (Those poles also have emergency phones connected directly to Hoppin House.)

Schauss punches some keys on a laptop near the monitors and brings up a record of every recent entry into one of the campus buildings, which can only be entered by swiping a OneCard, Carleton’s multipurpose ID. “A readout like that is a great resource if we’re trying to locate somebody,” Hanson says.

All three officers are wearing their body cams, and Hanson explains that college policy requires officers to switch them on whenever they’re heading into a situation that requires the gathering of evidence and direct interactions with people in crisis. (They’re also required to push start if someone requests that they do so.) The cam is actually always “on,” but erases everything at 30-second intervals. When an officer presses the button, the previous 30 seconds are preserved, so that what happened right before the activation becomes part of the recording.

Inside the vehicle, Hanson shows off the glowing monitor of his dashboard computer, which, he points out, can do everything the Hoppin House console does, including locking and unlocking every building on campus. (“It used to take me an hour and a half of traipsing around to each one,” he says with a grin.) At Anderson Hall, a number of people are hanging out in the common area. Normally, Hanson says, he would chat up some students — building on some of Bermel’s relational capital — but the last day of classes has just ended and most of the students are already in intense study mode. “A lot of what we do is pretty simple service,” says Hanson. “I’ve been doing this job for three decades, and students are still locking themselves out and setting off smoke alarms with their cooking.”

We swing out and head into the Upper Arb on Highway 19 and Hanson occasionally slows down to aim a spotlight into parking lots and other locations, looking mainly for “vehicles that shouldn’t be there.” We notice a car parked on the roadside, but it doesn’t appear to concern the seasoned officer. “Probably just some joggers,” he ventures. “It’s still a little early. If I come across a car there in a couple of hours, I’m going to check them out.”

We roll on up Canada Avenue, then back toward town on Highway 3. Hanson shines his spotlight into a few empty parking lots, and stops to check doors on a storage building. We then make our way back to Hoppin House by way of the Weitz Center.

It’s a quiet hour on a quiet evening; more typical than not. If we were hoping for some “action,” we could be excused for being disappointed. (There are, however, plenty of good stories in Security Services lore — see the sidebar for two of the best.)

What became clear on this ridealong, though, is that, like his colleagues, Hanson carries himself with the positive vibes of a person who loves his job and his role at Carleton. It’s a role that’s both limited and far-reaching, less yet still more than “being a cop,” and probably as close to a genuine embodiment of that too-often ironic motto “to serve and protect” as a person could hope to see these difficult days.