Today, we ran a story about overtime costs in the Baltimore City school system, which has totaled up to about $14 million in the last four years.
It's one of the areas, and there will be more, we chose to look at after requesting the school system's salaries, which we published last month. The database we published with today's story is an updated version from the previous one, listing actual earnings of system employees rather than negotiated salaries. For school-based personnel, this didn't change much.
The story today has drawn a lot of attention to city schools CEOAndres Alonso'sdriver, a city school police seargent who has worked for the system for more than 30 years, 20 of which has been spent serving as a driver, confidant and security for the system's superintendents. The seargeant has either doubled, or nearly doubled his salary for the last four years, and his overtime has been the source of headlines under previous superintendents.
In these kinds of stories, it's never about picking on employees--it couldn't be further from the truth--but as the top overtime earner in the system, the driver's earnings were glaring.
I actually have heard nothing but good things, and have had nothing but pleasant dealings with Askins, who I've personally seen endure grueling city school board meetings that last into the late hours of the night; his towering presence welcomes you to the CEO's suite, even when the CEO isn't there. I don't think anyone would argue that he should be compensated for the time he works.
The school system said the driver also doubles as security for the superintendent, because "much of the work of the CEO takes place both after hours and in troubled parts of the city."
In any overtime story we've done, we've identified the top overtime earner. But, unlike this time around, the Sun has also been able to provide a glimpse into overtime earners' hard work, which has been welcomed by other agencies in the past.
For instance, my colleagues have profiled a detective who more than doubled his salary in overtime, and had a reputation for his impeccable dress of double-breasted suits, and expensive ties. But, his boss defended him as one of the most hardworking in the business, telling our reporter that the 35-year-veteran "hummed like a bird," and despite his knack for fashion, "loves to put the uniform on."
It seems unfortunate that Askins' boss declined to offer the same picture for a man who is so respected, he's survived seven superintendents and has become a staple of the superintendent's office. And one can only imagine that he's also a human vault of the district, spending so much time with decades of the district's leaders.
So, we got a limited picture of just what it takes to be the shadow of the superintendent--that is now defined by a cost--albeit, a steep one.
In any event, the lead of the story and a large chunk of it, also pointed to some strategies Alonso has employed to cut costs and increase efficiency in the system. But, while the district has cut its more expensive and its full-time employees, it has spread itself thin. Several reorganizations later, the system has less people at the central office, and its current staffing levels aren't doing the job without $3 to $4 million in overtime costs.
The bottom line, of the story begs the question: Overtime is an expense inccured by every public agency, but in the school system's case, is the city getting the bang for its buck?