I fully admit that my view on the resource officer is tainted by the fact that I've only known one of them personally: Officer Jarvis Brown at Tucker High. I don't know how long he was there, but based on the time I got there ('96) and
the fact that he broke his ankle breaking up a fight in 2012, it was well over a decade. He was black. Everyone called him "O.B." for Officer Brown. He knew a ton of the kids by name. Not only was he there duing the school day, but he worked security at home and away games for both football and basketball. He broke up fights. He asked kids about their grades. Many times, I saw him chew out kids who needed it. I specifically recall graduation in 2002. It was the first time I'd seen him standing on the field next to the principal and other dignitaries. Virtually every black male graduating and most of the white males didn't just shake his hand; they hugged him, and so did many of the females.
I once had a conversation with him where I praised him telling him how much I appreciated what his loving presence and firm hand of discipline when needed did for those kids, especially the many fatherless young black males. He responded something the lines of "I appreciate it, but I'm just doing my job. There's one of me in every high school in DeKalb. They all do the same stuff I do. These kids need more than just a cop." Of course, perhaps he was being overly humble; or maybe he was right and they all acted just like he did.
Point being, he's the only real frame of reference I have, and there's no scenario in the world where I can imagine O.B. standing outside of the school and doing nothing while he heard gunshots and kids screaming. None. So this revelation is absolutely unfathomable to me.