What does a safe and healthy Santa Cruz County look like?
It looks like a child who feels safe walking to school. A survivor who knows where to turn for help. A family that can get support before a crisis becomes a call to 911.
And when someone is in danger, it looks like a deputy who can get there and act.
As Sheriff, I see how much work stands between that vision and where we are today. I want to share more of what our staff sees, what they do, and what the numbers can teach us.
This is the first in an ongoing series about the work of your Sheriff’s Office, the challenges we face, and the choices we must make together.
I also know policing means different things to different people. For some, an encounter with law enforcement brought help at a frightening moment. For others, it brought harm or deepened a loss of trust.
Our profession has a painful past. We have a responsibility to acknowledge it, listen, improve and earn trust through our actions. I hope this series creates room for honest conversation, including with people whose experiences differ from mine.
Our deputies and correctional staff meet people at some of the hardest moments of their lives. They respond to violence, theft, addiction and mental health crises. They protect people who
have been harmed and intervene when someone’s actions put others at risk. Those responsibilities are real. An arrest is sometimes necessary to stop harm and hold someone accountable.
But when the same person comes through our jail again and again, we must ask another question: What happened between those arrests?
California’s prison system primarily measures recidivism by whether someone is convicted of a new offense within three years of release. That measure has some value. But it tells us less about the repeated, often short stays we see in a county jail.
Our jail currently holds a little over 300 people, many awaiting trial on serious felony charges.
We also book people on lower-level charges who, under the law and the circumstances of their cases, may be released within 24 to 48 hours. For the people in this latter group, roughly 90 people, they have been booked an average of 46 times before. The 20 people with the most extensive booking histories have been booked a combined 1,539 times.
These figures are not a measure of everyone in our jail, and a booking alone does not tell us whether someone was guilty of a crime. But they reveal a pattern we cannot afford to ignore.
Each booking can involve a person who was harmed, a family in fear, a call to 911, an emergency department visit, or a deputy responding to another crisis. It can also involve someone whose needs have gone unmet, someone who has declined help, or someone for whom previous interventions have failed.
I have met some of these people. I know their names. I know why law enforcement had to act in those moments. I want to know what might change the next one.
That question reaches beyond the jail. What happens when someone leaves? What supports failed, and why? Where do handoffs between agencies break down? What can the Sheriff’s
Office do better, and where can we collectively maximize our efforts as a county to prevent this cycle of victimization and incarceration?
Repeated crises carry a human cost. They also require time and resources from deputies, correctional staff, emergency responders, health care providers and so many others.
In future posts, I will be candid about what we ask our employees to do, what it takes to do that work well, and where our resources fall short.
When I raise a fiscal need, I want to explain the service behind it, the choices we face, and how we would judge whether an investment helped.
I also want to show the work already underway. Some installments will focus on our staff and the responsibilities the public rarely sees. Others will examine a challenge, a possible solution, or a decision we need to make. We will look at what the evidence says, listen to those affected, and report back on what we learn.
I cannot promise that every problem has a quick answer. I can promise to ask hard questions, including of my own Office, and to make room for the public’s answers.
So I want to begin with yours: What does a safe and healthy Santa Cruz County look like to you?
Where do you see people falling through the cracks? What has helped keep your neighborhood safe? What do you wish the Sheriff’s Office better understood about your experience?
Please write to me at ch*********@***************ca.gov.
