ROCHESTER - Al Arzola is in his 18th year as a police officer, a veteran of narcotics and street crimes units, and back when he was making undercover drug buys and arresting dealers, he figured he was about as cool as a cop can get.

Now he is "Officer Al," a school resource officer (SRO) happily walking halls between classes at two Rochester middle schools, and if he's not chatting up one kid, he's being swarmed by others.

"He's kind of a big deal," a John Adams Middle School staffer said as he surveyed the scene at the start of a recent school day.

A year ago, the talk surrounding the state's SROs involved a short-lived ban on a potentially dangerous way an officer might restrain a student. Some agencies pulled officers, citing liability concerns. But this year, nearly all of the estimated 250 to 300 SROs in Minnesota are back, tending again to a part of the job that's often overlooked by or unknown to observers: relationship-building.

Once an enforcer snaring adults firmly embedded in their lifestyles, Arzola now aims to steer kids out of trouble, and if they go off track, to help keep their records clean.

"I can actually make a difference at this level," he said.

On a recent Friday, Arzola began the day setting up a presentation about risks associated with social media, and he spoke of kids not yet fully in control of their emotions, making them an unusual offer.

"If you need to vent," he said, "if you're that angry that you need to scream and yell at somebody, come to my office and scream and yell at me."

Some take him up on it and fret when he's not around.

"It is nice to be missed and be part of the school's culture," Arzola said. But mostly, he added, he wants kids to know that police aren't around just for when the bad stuff happens. He'll hand out his stickers and bracelets, even a trading card bearing his image. Then, they'll talk about dogs and family.

Building safety tour

Two months ago, Rochester played host to a three-day training session for new SROs from across the state — an event organized by the Minnesota School Safety Center. On the final day, the 26 officers learned about surveillance challenges at the other school where Arzola works: Dakota Middle School.

It is a beautiful building with a scenic view. There is a lot of glass, too. Arzola, handling the role of instructor and tour guide, took the group outside and noted how one could look straight through the entrance to the large groups that gather inside. There were no curbs in front, either.

"There is nothing stopping any vehicle whatsoever from going through my front doors," Arzola told the officers. "Law enforcement wasn't talked to before this building was made. It was kind of like, 'Here it is. You're the SRO. Do what you do.'"

He showed them his office, too, which is separate from the main office and near those of other school support staff members. That makes sense, said Jenny Larrive, SRO coordinator for the Minnesota School Safety Center, given than SROs spend more time connecting with youth than on actual law enforcement.

If a kid gets in trouble, she said, SROs will work with others to try to get at the root cause of the behavior, and do all they can to keep the students out of the court system.

"You can work with your school administration, your counselors, your other social service providers to say, 'OK, at the end of the day, we don't want this to be a mark forever on this child's life,'" Larrive said.

At John Adams Middle School, Arzola's office is flanked by those of its counselors, too.

Making reparations

Through the years, Arzola has jumped into the middle of fights. Typically, he'll say "stop," and the students stop. He's never had a kid take a swing at him, he said. Rarely has he put his hands on them; he recalls using handcuffs only twice, and taking them off quickly when emotions cooled.

The school takes whatever disciplinary action is under its purview, and if a police report is written, Arzola will seek to refer the matter to Three Rivers Restorative Justice, which works with the offender's and victim's families to talk it out and find agreement on how to make things right.

But if a family wants to pursue charges, he'll send the case to a county attorney for review.

"Personally, I would love to be able to just say: 'This is a Three Rivers Restorative Justice case,'" Arzola said. "I don't have that power, unfortunately."

Last spring, Rochester school board members learned that between August 2023 and March 2024, police reported a total of 49 assault and disorderly conduct incidents across the 17,500-student school system, and citations were written in three assault cases and seven for disorderly conduct.

But Arzola says the most important part of the job is what can't be quantified in the reports or other paperwork. He cannot tell the board, he said, how many kids he's talked to, how many he's high-fived and how many asked him how his day was going.

During his social media presentation, Arzola broke the news to the sixth-graders that after five years as the school's SRO, he is being promoted to patrol sergeant and may leave soon. There were cries of "What?!" and "No?!" and finally, applause.

Then, Arzola walked the halls again, and after making his way through the first floor and up to the second, a boy called to him from a distance and said: "Officer Al! Where ya been?"

Arzola, who had been out the previous week with COVID, told the boy he had been sick. As they went their separate ways, Arzola turned to say: "Thank you for asking."