Youth-probation officers have job complaints
NO MATTER what time juvenile-probation officer John Randy starts his day, he is already behind schedule. Randy has to be at his desk by 9 a.m., ready to chase his assigned juveniles, a total that recently peaked at 55 troubled West Philadelphia teens, plus 10 more wanted on bench warrants.

NO MATTER what time juvenile-probation officer John Randy starts his day, he is already behind schedule.
Randy has to be at his desk by 9 a.m., ready to chase his assigned juveniles, a total that recently peaked at 55 troubled West Philadelphia teens, plus 10 more wanted on bench warrants.
But getting to the front door of Family Court, at 18th and Vine streets, is a feat. He and his 186 colleagues scramble to find the few vacant metered parking spaces. Then, for the next two hours, they have to dart outside, in-between court hearings and mounting paperwork, to feed the meter.
"It distracts me from what I am doing," Randy said. "I always have to be mindful of not getting a ticket. The Parking Authority doesn't care that I work for the court." (Randy's real name has been changed because Family Court denied a reporter's request to speak to probation officers.)
Family Court doesn't reimburse Randy for his parking tickets, his constant supply of quarters, or the $300 worth of gas he uses each month to drive around his assigned neighborhoods.
Transportation tops the litany of gripes shared by Randy and his peers. The no-overtime policy and short-staffed units are not far behind.
Although juvenile-probation officers have badges like cops, they can't carry a gun, handcuffs or a baton - only a potent form of Mace. They chase after the city's most dangerous kids with not much more than a pen and pad.
The court gives officers $70 per month so they can buy SEPTA TransPasses. Randy doesn't know any officer who uses the money for the bus because it would be a logistical nightmare and waste too much time.
By 2 p.m., the parking spaces start to empty out. Court hearings have ended and many officers have updated their case files into the department's antiquated 1980s-style computer system, called Juvenile Automated Computer System (JACS).
They head out to the neighborhoods. Most probation officers work geographically, overseeing kids across one or two ZIP codes. They have to meet with each juvenile once a month, either at the office or in the child's neighborhood. About 45 percent of the 5,700 kids on probation are assigned to one of those officers, said Chief Probation Officer James Sharp.
The remaining 55 percent of teens are assigned to other specialized probation officers who work with kids including sex offenders, repeat criminals and those restricted to in-home detention.
On a good day, Randy has three hours to track down as many of his young criminals as possible. If he can meet with two in their homes, he considers it successful. But many days, he doesn't have enough time to comb streets for kids who dodge him.
Randy rarely works past his shift. He won't get paid for it, and he knows it is not safe on the city's toughest streets at night.
Many probation officers were fitted for bulletproof vests around the New Year, but only a handful of more-specialized officers have received them.
Salary maxes out at about $47,000 per year, and they are not reimbursed for expenses. Probation officers even have to pay for their $25 polo shirts.
"We feel, as a body, that we are not respected," said Bob Zimmerman, president of AFSCME Local 810, which represents probation officers.
"Just look at the salary and the lack of parking. We have to use our own vehicles without compensation," he said.
"Not only do we have to deal with the kid on probation, we have to deal with their family," Zimmerman said.
Probation officers are always concerned about safety when tracking down kids. In the last year, one officer's tires were slashed and another felt intimidated when heckled by an angry throng of teens, an officer said.
The Daily News spoke to court officials and to Mayor Street about the probation officers' complaints.
Everyone agreed: It all comes down to money.
"It is all part of the escalated justice cost," Street said. "The city alone doesn't have the resources."
In fiscal year 2007, the city spent $1.3 billion on police, prisons and other crime-related issues. Less than 1 percent - an estimated $18.5 million - was spent on juvenile probation.
Sharp responded to his probation officers' grumbles with the simple explanation that the "job is not for everybody."
"We are required to wear a lot of different hats," he said. "We are required to be law enforcement, to enforce the orders of the court. We are social workers, we are truant officers, we are crisis-mediators."
Family Court Administrative Judge Kevin Dougherty said the job doesn't allow for overtime pay because his "budget is restricted." He added that he's working on adding flexible work schedules for probation officers.
That would help, Randy said, but more needs to be done.
"People pay taxes so the city can provide community protection," Randy said. "If we don't have the resources, then Philadelphia residents are not getting their money's worth."