Will We Allow Salaries That Qualify Law Enforcement Officers to Receive Food Stamps?

Last March, I wrote a piece entitled “What is a NC Wildlife Officer Worth.”  That question came to mind in a broader context this week as I read that NC State Troopers have entered into a class-action lawsuit over pay issues.  The class-action suit is being pursued after Alamance County Superior Court Judge Michael O'Foghludha recently dismissed a lawsuit over broken promises regarding annual pay raises for the troopers.  Among the many points made by troopers in filing the class-action suit is that many of their officers salaries are so low that they qualify for food stamps.

The salary concerns of law enforcement officers in North Carolina can be even more pronounced on the local level.  The University of North Carolina’s School of Government has published a report that list the salaries of sheriff department employees across the state. In many of the more economically distressed counties, sheriff’s deputies are hired at a rate of $25,000 to $29,000 per year.  Pamilco County’s starting salary is only $22,853.  That's roughly $11.00 per hour.

These disparities in pay, along with stagnant salary progressions, has led to officers bouncing from one agency to another in search of higher pay.  Officers with the Winston Salem Police Department recently requested pay raises, in part, to aid with officer retention.

The result of this movement from agency to agency is that the lowest paying departments continually see many of their best and brightest officers take their knowledge, skills and abilities to other agencies.  Those officers that exercise the best judgment, due to experience and common sense, are in demand.  Social scientists refer to this phenomena as “human capital flight.” It is more commonly called “brain drain.”

This human capital flight is occurring at an increased rate with the NC Wildlife Resources Commission’s Division of Law Enforcement.  Wildlife officers with 5-7 years of experience have reached a point in their careers where they are considered seasoned officers and are assuming leadership roles.  They are serving as training officers for new recruits and are eligible for promotion to first-line supervisor.  Yet, these officers have had minimal pay increases since they were hired.

They are also attracting the attention of other departments.

Virtually any wildlife officer with less than ten years of experience can find another law enforcement job tomorrow that pays more money.  One agency has hired three wildlife officers.  Staff from that department has jokingly told NCWRC staff, “Y’all keep training them and we’ll keep hiring them.” 

For years the NCWRC could count on the vast number of people who want to work outdoors to fill the roster and keep it full.  Wildlife officers work in their chosen field because they believe in the mission.  It is a job with tremendous personnel freedom.  But, that formula may not keep ranks filled in the future.

The NCWRC is currently experimenting with offering a shortened recruit school for candidates who have already successfully passed basic law enforcement training.  It was thought that this would draw experienced officers who are serving in other departments.  After the first round of the process, there were only 18 applicants who would receive interviews.   While the NCWRC has officers leaving for other agencies, not many officers from other departments are willing to accept a wildlife job, in large part due to salary issues.

So, is it all purely a matter of salary?  That is doubtful.  The current generation of workers change jobs much more frequently than those of the past.  Add a growing societal disconnect with nature and the likelihood of retaining wildlife officers lessens further. Yet, salary is definite concern.  As salaries have remained basically flat over the past years, the thresholds for receiving public assistance have risen.  It is a truly depressing thought that law enforcement officers, regardless of uniform, qualify for food stamps.  But that is exactly what is happening.

We ask much from our law enforcement officers.  There is an expectation for officers to make accurate, split second decisions concerning the use of force.  Officers are expected to use sound judgment in decision-making that reflects a wide array of possible actions.  There is an almost impossible expectation of officers having the ability to transition from a school or civic presentation and then respond a Paris style attack and then make the transition back.

It begs the question of how much we truly do value our officers.  Surely we don’t ask all that we ask and expect the officers to do it on a salary that qualifies them for food stamps.

25 Signs You Were a Game Warden's Kid

1.     You have a photos, okay multiple photos, of you and your parent with a fawn deer.

2.     Many of your friends’ stories began with, “Now don’t tell your parent this, but…”

3.     As a kid, you always had to wear a PFD when you were around water.

4.     You know what “PFD” stands for.

5.     You took a hunter safety class when you were in elementary school and knew more correct answers than the adults in the class.

6.     On your calendar, seasons are identified by opening days.

7.     Deer jerky was an afternoon school snack.

8.     You can build a box trap for rabbits.

9.     You had a fishing trip with your parent that turned into a stake out.

10.  You only hunted with other game wardens.

11.  Your parent brought home a cap full of wild grapes, plums, or blackberries

12.  Your parent showed up at sporting events in uniform – on their meal break – and answered questions from the other parents.

13.  When you see a nice buck in a field, your first thought is, “Nice decoy.”

14.  You feel comfortable around guns.  You feel most comfortable around a lot of guns.

15.  Your parent brought a boat to your school’s career day.

16.  You still consider “Headquarters,” “The Office,” or “The Capital” as the source of most of life's problems.

17.  You consider hunting shows highly edited and mostly fake.

18.  You know the difference in White Oak and Red Oak acorns.

19.  In your wardrobe, camouflage is still considered a color.

20.  You refer to locations by county instead of town.

21.  Your parent knew everyone that was shopping in the Wal-Mart fishing section.

22.  People in the fishing section now ask you how your parent is doing.

23.  You have a shoulder patch that reminds you of your parent.

24.  You were asked more times that you can count, “Is your parent the game warden?”

25.  You remember being proud to answer, “Yes he/she is.”

The Mystery of Chicken Seeds

As a parent, I did a lot of things wrong.  I worked more than was necessary and missed more church events and ball games than I would like to admit.  But, I also got a few things right.  And occasionally, I hit it out of the park.

One of those right ideas was of instilling an entrepreneurial spirit in my kids.  Staring into the tub of chicks at Tractor Supply late one spring, flanked by Elizabeth and John, it occurred to me that having the kids raise chicks into laying hens, tend to them chicks daily and then buying eggs from the kids would be the perfect business model.  So, the clerk boxed up a half dozen Rhode Island Red chicks and we headed home.

I built a 6x6 feet square pen that could be moved around the backyard.  I’m not sure that the term pastured poultry had been coined yet and technically we were in the backyard, but I like to think of ourselves as visionaries of future self-sufficient agricultural practices.

That summer the chicks matured and by the following spring we were anticipating fresh eggs.  As the weather warmed, the chickens libido also kicked into overdrive.  Ever observant of the natural world, John, who was five or six at the time asked a question one night at the dinner table.

www.heritagepullets.com

“Daddy, why does Big Red (the rooster) jump on the Little Red Hen’s back?’

I suddenly realized that I had actually hit the paternal lottery.  Not only was I creating entrepreneurs and a sense of responsibility, I now had a segway to the birds and bees via roosters and hens.

“Well John,” I began in my best patriarchal tone, “When Big Red jumps on the Little Red Hen he is planting a seed in her that fertilizes the eggs so they can hatch into chicks.”

John nodded his head and simply said, “Oh.”

I felt pretty good.  Actually, I felt real good.  Like, “I should write a parenting book” good.

After a couple of minutes of thought, John added, “But Daddy, I don’t think Big Red hits it every time.”

It took me a couple of moments to process what he said.  I saw the title of the parenting book changing to “Big Red Strikes Out and other Tales of Failed Livestock Husbandry” (this was before the commercials of couples watching the sun set from claw-foot tubs, but I'm sure there is some chicken equivalent).  As much as I wanted to bail on the conversation, his observation peaked my curiosity.

“Why do you think Big Red misses sometimes?”

“Cause I found some chicken seeds in the yard.”

Now he had me.  My bluff was called.

“You found chicken seeds?”

“Yep, chicken seeds.”

“Exactly what do they look like?”

“They are hard and white.”  He held his fingers about a quarter inch apart and added, “And about this big.  Kind of like cucumber seeds.”

As my mind reeled and I wondered if I had stepped on the chickens seed with my bare feet because that would be kind of gross, Elizabeth, two years John’s elder, solved the mystery.

“John,” she said, “Those aren’t chicken seeds."  She pointed her fork in John's direction to emphasize her epiphany.  "Those are bits of oyster shells.  Right Daddy?”

It struck me that some of the oyster shells we were feeding them to combat egg eating had been kicked through the wire into the yard.  They looked seed-like so it was an easy mistake to make.  

“You don’t know everything Elizabeth,” John protested, now pointing his fork at her.  “Daddy, tell her those are chicken seeds.”

"Well, I think she is right John.  Those may look like chicken seeds, but I’m pretty sure they are oyster shells.”

I suddenly realized I was discussing chicken seeds as though I knew exactly what they looked like.

As Elizabeth looked content with her assessment, John deflated just a bit.  Then his expression changed.  I saw another question brewing.

“Okay maybe those are oyster shells.  But tell me this Daddy, how does Big Red actually plant the chicken seeds?

I thought for a moment and decided to throw down the parental trump card.

“That’s enough about chickens.  Eat your supper.”

So the seed metaphor was less than perfect.  As always seems to be the case, it seemed like a good idea at the time.  I'm really glad that I steered away from tadpoles...