For more than three decades, Ross Wolf ’88 ’91MPA ’98EdD has lived a double life. By day, he shapes the minds of criminal justice students and serves as a faculty administrator at UCF. By night and on weekends, he has patrolled Orange County as a sworn deputy sheriff entirely as a volunteer, dedicating about 500 hours per year to the agency.

In March, the Orange County Sheriff’s Office (OCSO) will present him with both the Reserve Deputy of the Year award for 2025 and a Distinguished Service Medal as he retires from the agency after 34 years of service. As reserve chief deputy, Wolf modernized the unit by rewriting OCSO’s reserve policy and establishing international exchange programs with agencies in London and Singapore.

As Wolf approaches this milestone he remains focused on sharing his wealth of knowledge and expertise and his industry connections as interim dean of the UCF College of Community Innovation and Education, professor of criminal justice and associate provost of UCF Downtown.

Taking the Risk

Wolf’s unconventional path began in 1991 when he started as an auxiliary deputy with OCSO. In 1995, he made a bold decision: he took a 50% pay cut to leave his “day job” and become a full-time deputy sheriff. For five years, he served as a patrol officer, field training officer and detective.

In 1999, he made another pivot — joining UCF as a full-time faculty member while remaining a reserve deputy. For the next 25 years, Wolf would maintain both roles simultaneously, eventually rising to reserve chief deputy, the highest-ranking volunteer position in the agency, overseeing more than 70 sworn personnel, while also becoming a tenured professor, department chair, associate dean and associate provost for UCF Downtown.

“Staying current with law enforcement practices made me an effective deputy and allowed me to share accurate, real-world information with students.” — Ross Wolf

“These commitments required significant time, but staying current with law enforcement practices made me an effective deputy and allowed me to share accurate, real-world information with students,” Wolf says.

It also allowed him to identify and address the gap in research on volunteer policing, which has existed longer than professional police departments. For decades, Wolf built a network of international scholars to develop comparative research. He’s also helped develop a framework that is part of an International Association of Chiefs of Police model policy now used by many agencies nationwide.

Training the Next Generation

While leading the reserve unit and conducting groundbreaking research into volunteer policing programs across the United States and internationally, Wolf applied his dual expertise to classroom lectures and created programs that continue to provide students with real-world law enforcement experience.

In 1996, he launched the Law Enforcement Officer Training Corps (LEOTC). Through this initiative, 10 to 15 students each year completed two-semester internships at the OCSO, rotating through specialized units before spending a full semester in their area of greatest interest.

He organized study abroad programs in the United Kingdom that brought 54 UCF students over three years to examine international policing models in a reciprocal exchange. In 2016, 18 British students came to Orlando to ride along with Orange County reserve deputies. Their shifts were underway when the Pulse nightclub shooting occurred. For Zoe Williamson ’21MPA, witnessing officers’ courage and dedication during the tragedy inspired her to complete her master’s degree at UCF and pursue a career in law enforcement.

Wolf’s programs created a pipeline of well-trained officers for agencies across Central Florida, with multiple LEOTC graduates joining the OCSO.

“While everyone knew him as ‘Dr. Wolf,’ I always called him ‘Chief,’” says Stephen Fickey ’11, a criminal justice grad who is now a training deputy with the OCSO. “Having the leader of my reserve unit also be my professor was a unique experience I felt privileged to have.”

Fickey recalled Wolf joking with him about uniform inspections during final exam week.

“Moments like that showed me the most valuable quality in a leader is remembering where you came from,” Fickey says.

Earning Recognition in Service and Scholarship

Wolf’s dual contributions have been recognized with national honors, including the American Police Hall of Fame’s J. Edgar Hoover Memorial Gold Medal, the National Sheriffs’ Association Medal of Merit, and a Presidential Daily Point of Light Award, along with multiple UCF teaching and service awards.

“As reserve chief deputy, [Ross Wolf has] built our unit into one of the best in the nation and agencies from around the world now look to us as a model,” says Orange County Sheriff John Mina. “Ross has provided thousands of volunteer hours, but his impact goes even further,” Mina continues. “Through his work at UCF, he’s trained hundreds of students who’ve gone on to serve in law enforcement, including here at OCSO. He’s represented our agency with professionalism and integrity at every turn, and we’re grateful for his service to the residents and visitors of Orange County.”

As Wolf focuses on academic leadership at UCF, he leaves a lasting legacy out in the field — one that has shaped national standards, hundreds of mentored officers serving across the profession, and proof that bridging practice and scholarship creates lasting impact.

“I have pink hair,” she says, “and I’m a professional.”

Her TV series Crime Scene Confidential is raw yet polished. It combines the science of forensics with the real human emotion of loss. For the ultimate irony, Burroughs says she’s naturally shy, which makes you wonder how she can be so natural on camera.

“What you see is me being myself,” she says.

Crime Scene Confidential has run for two seasons on Investigation Discovery (ID), with episodes also streaming on Max. The first season of CSC earned a nomination for the prestigious American Reality Television Award as the Best New Show of the Year. The series is unlike any other crime scene show on television. It’s unscripted. It’s revealing. It’s controversial only because of evidence Burroughs uncovers, not because of sensationalized plots. It’s all a perfect fit for Burroughs, a former crime scene investigator for the Orange County Sheriff’s Office.

“I truly believe this show is my purpose for being on Earth,” says the self-described introvert.

How did she get to this place in life? Burroughs traces her story back to a childhood of exploration at a certain university that she’s always called home.

I grew up on the UCF campus. My dad taught industrial/organizational psychology when the university was still known as FTU (Florida Technological ����ֱ��). During his career, he started a course about the psychology of racial prejudice. Long before I knew what that meant, I’d go to work with him and feed squirrels outside while he taught. UCF was like my daycare. There was never any question where I’d go to college.

A speech class helped me break through my fear of being in front of people. I was the kind of student who knew the answers but didn’t want to say them out loud. At some point I realized that being able to present and interpret nonverbal cues would help me in any career — and I discovered I’m OK at speaking to audiences. I wound up majoring in interpersonal communication but had no idea where it would lead me.

I also had no idea at the time that a crime scene investigator was a real job. In addition to teaching at UCF, my dad had a business to help law enforcement professionals prepare for exams. I’d read general orders for crime scene units across the country and eventually said, “Dad, this is what I want to do.” That’s why I studied for a master’s in criminal justice.

Every crime scene is a puzzle. Some people are drawn to law enforcement so they can go directly into the alarm call. I’m the other type, the one who wants to go in and find the invisible clues after everything has quieted down. It’s just the suspect and me. I know you were in this space and you left something behind — a fingerprint, DNA, something. We’ve never met, but the pieces of the puzzle will bring me closer to you.

It’s overwhelming to walk into a crime scene. I think about the victim who was here and is no longer with us. I’m working for that person and for the family members. They’re all victims. Early in my career with Orange County, I had to come to grips with the fact that I couldn’t undo what had already been done. But I can find truth, secure justice and maybe provide some closure for the family.

Crime Scene Confidential is my way of doing that, even though it wasn’t my intention. I left the sheriff’s department in 2015 to travel and train law enforcement on forensic technology. A talent scout saw me speaking at an event and asked if I’d be interested in developing a show concept. About a week later I was shooting a sizzle reel from a barstool in my home.

The show almost never happened. I’d get my hopes up, only to hear we were starting over. One day I finally typed an email that said, “Thank you for trying to make this work, but …” As I was typing, my phone rang. A producer said, “Congratulations. We have a TV show.” I went over to my laptop and deleted the email.

I only agreed to do the show because it’s unprecedented. We have no agenda or angle. Viewers can see for the first time what a real crime scene investigator does with real cases. You watch me go to the crime scene after I read as many as 4,000 pages of evidence, reports and testimony. If the case is old, I apply new forensic technology to original clues. Then I talk with prosecutors, defense attorneys, witnesses, investigators, and family members through the lens of a CSI who’s fully prepared to find the puzzle pieces.

The first episode is an example of how raw this is. We went back to the case of toddler Caylee Anthony here in Orlando. I worked the case in 2008. Every morning I’d see that little girl’s face on the news and then go to work as a CSI to look for clues — for justice. It was still emotional for me when our crew parked outside the house and started filming nearly 15 years later.

“With the show, I can sit down with (families) and let them know someone is paying attention to them … and someone will be their voice …” — Alina Burroughs ’00 ’02MS, UCF alum and host of Crime Scene Confidential

I’m not an actor. And I don’t see myself as just a TV host. I’m a navigator and translator of evidence for the audience. Evidence has no bias. Viewers can decide for themselves if the justice system got each case right or not.

Every episode is meaningful. But there’s an episode in season two that stands out. We bring a man who was 14 years old when his mother was murdered to meet the person thought to be responsible for her death. They have a real conversation while I sit off camera. It’s a powerful moment.

When I worked as a CSI, I didn’t meet with families. My job was to find evidence, finish a report, and go to the next case. With the show, I can sit down with family members and let them know someone is paying attention to them, someone cares about their loss, and someone will be their voice to everyone who’s watching.

I feel like the ultimate big sister. Girls or anyone who feels underrepresented in STEM can watch the show and realize, “Wow, I can have a meaningful career in science like Alina.” You can change lives and be yourself. You can even do it with pink hair.

Crime Scene Confidential airs Thursdays at 10 p.m. eastern on ID, or streaming on Max. The two-part finale will air Thursday, Oct. 25, at 10 p.m. and 11 p.m.

This is why Erica Fissel’s goal is to illuminate the interpersonal victimization that occurs in cyberspace in hopes that her work will be used to help inform policy and help these victims.

Fissel, an assistant professor in the , doesn’t consider herself a particularly technology-savvy person but was fascinated with the way people behave online versus offline. From there, she began to look at what use or abuse of technology looks like in an intimate partner relationship. A member of UCF’s Violence Against Women faculty cluster, she focuses on the impact it has on women.

Although she didn’t intentionally seek to make women the focus of her research, Fissel says she quickly discovered that women are the most likely to experience such forms of interpersonal victimization. She also works with the Cybercrime Support Network to help serve those affected by the growing impacts of cybercrime.

“This area is so interesting to me because it’s so underdeveloped, and there are so many ways that people can use technology to abuse their partners that I would have never thought of,” she says.

Such technology can include smart-home systems like video doorbells, which can be used to track or monitor an intimate partner. Even reading a partner’s text messages without their permission can fall into the category of technology-based abuse under certain circumstances.

She adds that it’s important to realize that intimate partner cyber abuse is not illegal. There may be laws applicable to cyberstalking or cyber harassment, but intimate partner cyber abuse extends beyond those behaviors.

“Because of that, people don’t know what they’re experiencing is abusive or problematic,” Fissel says. “They don’t know that they should be able to get help for it. I want my work to be able to inform policies and laws. I want to help individuals experiencing these behaviors access helpful resources, realize that they’re experiencing problematic behavior and get out of those situations.”

In her Women and Crime course, Fissel often finds herself teaching survivors and others who have experienced intimate partner cyber abuse. She’s even had students realize through the class that they are either currently being victimized or have been in the past.

“It’s very heavy material for students, but what I try to do is have a very open dialogue and safe space within the class where people are able to share their ideas,” she says. “We can talk about these types of behaviors and experiences because they’re important to understand.”

Defining the Cyber Abuse Spectrum

Although , Fissel says she is seeing more parity between men and women engaging in cyber-based abuse.

One of the projects Fissel has been working on examines the normalization or societal acceptance of behaviors that could be considered cyber abuse. She and a team of researchers from other universities collaborated on the study, which was funded by a faculty enrichment grant from the ����ֱ�� of Cincinnati’s Criminal Justice Research Center. They collected data from 1,500 adults currently in an intimate partner relationship and asked about their experiences with intimate partner cyber abuse, perpetration and victimization within the past six months.

“We did a pilot test, and 100% of people experienced intimate partner cyber abuse as we defined it in the past six months,” Fissel says. “We thought, ‘This is a much bigger problem than we thought or we’re measuring it wrong.’ We talked to people about it, and some of the behaviors that we were defining as abusive aren’t abusive in all contexts.”

For example, tracking a partner via GPS would be considered abusive if it was being done without consent. However, Fissel says, many participants later indicated they tracked each other’s locations for safety reasons.

“That’s one of the tricky things with intimate partner cyber abuse, because it’s totally relationship specific and dependent on whether the boundaries developed with your partner were agreed upon without coercion,” she says.

In addition to looking at intimate partner cyber abuse on the victimization side, Fissel also is working on it from the perpetration side. That entails trying to understand why people engage in such behaviors, which is vital to being able to prevent them from happening.

Fissel also is working on another study with Jackie Woerner, an assistant professor in UCF’s departments of sociology and psychology, that focuses on the perpetration side. The two surveyed 544 people and followed up with nearly 300 of them a month later to examine their intimate partner cyber abuse behaviors over time. Part of this research involved asking participants about the factors that motivate their behavior. Fissel says many cited personal insecurities such as lack of trust.

“There’s almost a range within intimate partner cyber abuse,” she says. “There are things like checking someone’s text messages without their permission, which I would say is probably on the lower end of the spectrum. Then you also have people who are opening bank accounts in your name and ruining your credit, or people who are sending you threatening text messages. We’re also trying to figure out where the line that society draws is, because that’s going to help with trying to determine laws, too.”

Fissel received her doctorate in criminal justice from the ����ֱ�� of Cincinnati. Her primary research interests focus on various types of interpersonal victimization that take place online, including cyberstalking, intimate partner cyber abuse and cyberbullying. She joined UCF’s , part of the , in 2019.

These agencies, which traditionally rely on face-to-face interaction, serve some 6 million Americans by helping them find and maintain employment, attend substance-abuse treatments, ensure they are paying fines and don’t reoffend.

And considering these agencies are typically slow to change, the problem of how they can serve a large number of vulnerable people in new ways, and do so quickly, becomes incredibly complex, says Jill Viglione, an assistant professor in UCF’s .

That’s why Viglione is working on a National Science Foundation-funded project to find out how correctional agencies across the country have adapted their policies and practices during the pandemic. The researcher received a $105,467 Rapid Response Research award from NSF for the project, and the results will inform a website that will include effective strategies that agencies can look to now and in the future.

“In addition to providing data on innovations used across the country to help during the immediate crisis, we’re also working to develop the foundation for best practices for corrections agencies to use during future public-health crises,” Viglione says. “Correctional agencies are likely going to need to have pandemic-response plans going forward.”

Since Viglione studies organizational change in correctional agencies, she was interested to find out how they were dealing with the forced changes caused by COVID-19.

She says some of the ways agencies may have adapted include:

• completely shutting down their offices
• only bringing in people with a high-risk to reoffend
• supervising lower-risk individuals through video-conferencing services or other technologies
• suspending supervision fees.

To perform the study, the researcher and her team will survey people at community corrections agencies across the country using contact information collected by the team to form a national correctional-agency database.

They will also follow up the surveys with in-depth interviews of community supervision officers nationwide to better understand how working during the pandemic has affected them. Follow-up interviews with the officers will occur every 12 weeks during the course of the one-year study.

“I’m really excited about this research because this is an unprecedented time to explore the priorities of correctional agencies, how they make decisions, and how these decisions may impact the field for years to come,” Viglione says. “I don’t know that there will ever be a more interesting time to study change in an organization.”

Viglione received her doctorate in criminology, law and society from George Mason ����ֱ��, her master’s in criminology, law and society from Villanova ����ֱ�� and her bachelor’s degree in criminal justice from Quinnipiac ����ֱ��. She joined UCF’s Department of Criminal Justice, part of UCF’s College of Community Innovation and Education, in 2017.

“Actually, I’ve never had lunch here,” Greene says. “Let’s see what they have.”

He picks up a plate and starts piling it on. Chicken. Fried catfish. Corn on the cob.

“I usually eat on base,” he says before adding: “I might need to come over here more often.”

You can’t help but notice how fit Greene is whether he’s sitting or walking, never mind the subtle limp in his stride. It’s no surprise when he says he’ll work out this evening at the community center near his home in Palm Bay. Maybe he’ll ride a stationary bike or lift weights.

“I’ll decide later,” he says.

It didn’t used to be this way with food, sports or his life.

“I played basketball,” Greene says. “That’s it. Basketball. Sometimes I look back and think, ‘Why was I so closed-minded?’”

When he looks back, he always stops on the night of Dec. 17, 2014. Always. Greene’s friends had called him to play basketball. At the time, Greene was in the Air Force Reserves and working three jobs. He had a singular long-term goal: to go active duty once his Air Force Reserve commitment expired. For the short-term, he wanted to beat his friends on the basketball court.

On his way to the gym, he pulled up to a stoplight on his motorcycle, which he’d purchased to help build a credit score. He looked left. He looked right. He looked left again, and started to turn.

Eighteen hours later, Greene woke up in an intensive care unit to see people praying. He reached to feel his hands, his arms and his face. Everything felt … OK. Then the doctor spoke.

“We had to amputate your left foot.”

Greene waited for the curtain to close around him. And he cried.

“I think about the accident all the time,” he says. “All the time.”

A few days after the accident, with Christmas approaching, visitors pretty much stopped coming to the hospital. Greene spent Christmas, New Year’s and Valentine’s Day alone. He stayed in the hospital for three months, and was then in and out until June 2015 because of infections. Doctors gradually had to take more of his leg.

But he lost much more.

“I lost my ambition, my purpose,” he says. “That was the worst part. I pushed people away. My debt piled up because I lost my jobs. The idea of going full-time Air Force was out the window. I just closed myself off.”

He credits the basketball team he coached at Palm Bay High School for prying him open again. They convinced Greene to help them. Just moving around, even on crutches, became therapeutic. He then landed a job at the community center in Melbourne, where the kids showed no mercy.

“They’d get me into games and start trash talking,” says Greene. “They didn’t care I was on one good leg. It’s exactly what I needed. It made me realize that I’m capable. I can play. I can compete.”

His newfound drive sent him through self-imposed mental walls. He grew as a coach and started to hang out with friends again. He kept moving. New purposes began to emerge, as he says, “ways to live, love and give back.”

While on college campuses with the basketball team for summer camps, Greene decided he should build on his associate’s degree and complete his bachelor’s in criminal justice, which he did thanks to UCF Online. He also earned a certificate as a registered behavioral technician so he could work full-time with autistic children. He returned to duty at Patrick Air Force Base. He married his girlfriend, Domonique Oneal-Greene. And on Jan. 17, 2017, he became the dad of a beautiful baby girl — Gianna.

All along, he also got into the best shape of his life. In late 2017, Greene met the Chief of Staff of the Air Force, Gen. David Goldfein, who told him about the Air Force Wounded Warrior Program (AFW2) and its adaptive-sports program. Greene listened, but…

“When it came to sports, my mind was still closed. I thought, ‘I’m normal. I don’t need adaptive sports.’”

It wasn’t until September 2018 that he accepted the idea, at least enough to attend an Air Force Wounded Warrior CARE event near Seattle, at Joint Base Lewis-McChord. There, he learned about resiliency, empowerment, caregiving and seizing opportunities. Those opportunities happened to include adaptive sports.

“I thought, ‘Wait. With this, I can play basketball, but I can also do a lot more,’” he says.

Greene took up floor volleyball, track, cycling, rowing and wheelchair basketball. Less than a year after participating in those sports, he entered the Department of Defense Warrior Games in Tampa. Against the best adaptive military athletes from the U.S. and five other countries, Greene hauled in six gold medals, two silvers and a bronze.

At the end of the week, a woman approached Greene and said something very simple yet very profound for him: “You’re an athlete.”

Greene looks across the lunch table with energy in his eyes. He again repeats: “I think about the accident all the time.”

What if I hadn’t survived?

“The thought drives me to try new things. I’m genuinely happy to be here at this moment, in this restaurant. Before, I just thought of myself as a basketball player. Now I can work with kids who have autism. I have a degree from UCF. I’m an airman. A husband. A father. I have so much purpose now.”

It just so happens that Kevin Greene is an athlete, too.

Three days after being interviewed for this story, Greene received word that he’s earned a spot on Team USA for the Invictus Games in the Netherlands in May 2020. He will be one of 65 athletes from U.S. military branches competing against service members from 18 nations.

Barnett, who is a community corrections officer in the Orange County Corrections Department, was honored for overseeing the county’s Inmate Construction Program, an innovative and successful re-entry program that teaches employable skills in construction and provides a long-term career path for people who are released from incarceration. The award was created by cFive, a community-supervision software company as a way to recognize dynamic individuals in community supervision.

During the program, students gain construction experience working on a wide range of large-and small-scale construction projects, from house framing to bookshelves. In addition to providing resources to the jail, each class selects a service project as a form of reparation for the community. The project helps students recognize the value of supporting their community. This past December, Barnett says students built bunk beds for children in support of The Mustard Seed of Central Florida, which helps families who suffered disaster or personal tragedy, by providing furniture and clothing.

“Many of our students are familiar with this experience and making this connection has a big impact on their understanding of need and how they can help.”

Working with Valencia College, Barnett and his team at the corrections department created a six-week construction curriculum that includes the development of valuable skills and hands-on construction experience along with several certifications that give them an advantage in the job market. The program continues work with the students after release, helping to create a resume and contact employers all the way up to securing an interview.

“We often say it doesn’t do me any good to educate you if I can’t help you get the job,” he says.

Since the launch of the Inmate Construction Program, almost 300 students have graduated with nearly 70 percent securing full-time employment.

Barnett tells students their paths could go either way. At some point within the six-week program, an entire class is dedicated to reflecting on the difficulties that their peers faced after their release. With this awareness, the new class might be better equipped to thrive in those more difficult moments. More often after the program, students do.

One student came to the program after 12½ ��years in prison for armed carjacking. When he got out, he was homeless and on probation for the next 18 months. But he had a car and a license, so the program connected him with a potential employer. After his interview, he got the job and made about $13 an hour while he lived in his car. Sixteen months later, he was making $18 an hour.

“He emailed us recently to say he went back to school at UCF,” Barnett says. ��“He wrote that he spent his whole life in prison but now he has his own house, a fiancée, a kid and a job — all because of this program. He said we changed his life.”

Another student from the Dominican Republic, who was about to be released, was flagged by ICE (U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement) and detained for three months, Barnett says. He moved here when he was a child, didn’t know anyone in the Dominican Republic, and his wife and 1-year-old child were U.S. citizens living here in America. They wrote a letter from the department and so did Valencia College, which he presented to a judge who ruled that he could stay. He got a construction job making $15 an hour, a raise two months later and now he’s living with his family and working in North Dakota with a good salary and benefits.

Barnett says the criminal justice master’s degree program allowed him to be creative, which gave him the tools to think of innovative ways to reduce recidivism.

In a graduate course with��Ross Wolf, professor of criminal justice, Barnett remembers discussions on topics not everyone in class agreed on.

“But you could discuss it, if you could defend it,” he says. “It inspired me to explore creative ways to approach complex issues in criminal justice.”

“I couldn’t believe our margin,” says Johnson, who majored in criminal justice��and earned a master’s in communication from UCF. “I wasn’t even aware it was that large until the judges notified me once the games ended. I was shocked, excited and incredibly proud.”

Johnson’s journey to July’s Pan American games in Lima, Peru, started when she was just six. She continued playing for fun throughout her adolescent years. And by the time high school graduation came around, she knew that bowling was her calling. Johnson, who grew up in Miami, had bowling friends from around the state who were heading to Orlando to play on UCF’s new bowling team, the Striking Knights.

“[Striking Knights was] like a little family, and we were good at what we did. Bowling fueled us, and in turn we fueled each other.” –��Stefanie Johnson ’06 ’08MA

“I joined the Striking Knights when they were brand new,” says Johnson. “We were like a little family, and we were good at what we did. Bowling fueled us, and in turn we fueled each other.”

After graduating from UCF in 2006, she began her career on Team USA as a professional bowler. It took more than a decade of hard work and practice to qualify for the Pan American Games, but 2019 was the year she not only qualified, but emerged the No. 1 qualifier in the U.S. This was a dream come true for Johnson. who never wavered in her faith that she’d one day play in the games.

“This is the greatest opportunity to be given,” Johnson says. “The accumulation of hard work, love for the game, and remaining positive is what has pushed me forward. It is what inspires me to represent our country in Lima.”

Earlier this summer, Johnson and O’Keefe set off for Peru, where they played 12 games over two days. Johnson handily beat the other teams with an individual record for the highest six-game block.

Since the Pan American Games, Johnson has competed in a number of Professional Women’s Bowling Association events, including the recent World Championship games in Las Vegas.

“This has been a huge year for me and Team USA,” says Johnson. “UCF helped facilitate the love I have for bowling. I look back and am glad to see how much I’ve grown as an athlete.”

“The new rankings reflect our focus on student success and faculty excellence and puts us one step closer to reaching our goal of becoming a 21st-century university committed to fueling the talent, ideas and innovation that will drive our community and state forward.”

The list shows the university’s upward trajectory in the number of programs on the top 100 list; there were 18 programs ranked in 2017. The rankings measure the quality of 800 schools’ faculty, research and students, and are based on peer and expert opinions.

“From our growing academic reputation to our successful athletic programs, the ����ֱ�� has made impressive gains over the last decade,” says Elizabeth A. Dooley, provost and vice president for academic affairs. “The new rankings reflect our focus on student success and faculty excellence and puts us one step closer to reaching our goal of becoming a 21st-century university committed to fueling the talent, ideas and innovation that will drive our community and state forward.”

UCF’s top-ranked program this year, Emergency and Crisis��Management, tied for No. 7, above programs at Texas A&M ����ֱ��, American ����ֱ�� and George Washington ����ֱ��. The program is under the direction of Associate Professor Claire Connolly Knox, who says the course builds on the strength of the faculty, advisory board and alumni who mentor students.

“Effective emergency and crisis management is vital for every community,” Knox says. “Since 2016, four��hurricanes — Matthew, Irma, Maria��and Michael — and three��mass casualty events��— Pulse nightclub,��Marjorie Stoneman Douglas High School and Fort Lauderdale Airport —��have greatly impacted Florida communities. There is an��increasing need for��emergency management specialists��to expand��their knowledge, skills and abilities through an advanced degree so they can��more ethically manage emergencies and crises.”

The next highest UCF rankings are the Nonprofit Management at No. 8 (moving up from 12) and��Counselor Education at No. 9 (moving up from 10).

Other programs ranked in the top 50 are:��Optics and Photonics (No. 12), Elementary Education (No. 22), Public Administration (No. 23), Criminal Justice (No. 26), Industrial Engineering (No. 36) and Health Administration (No. 46).

UCF programs with the biggest point-gain improvements this year were in nursing. UCF’s master’s nursing school ranked No. 61 overall, moving up 26 points, and the Doctor of Nursing Practice ranked No. 72, improving by 29 points.

Other programs in the top 100 are:
Computer Engineering (No. 52)
Communication Sciences and Disorders (No. 53)
Electrical Engineering (No. 53)
Overall best public administration graduate school (No. 53)
Materials Science and Engineering (No. 57)
Physics (No. 61)
Environmental Engineering (No. 63)
Civil Engineering (No. 65)
Mechanical Engineering (No. 65)
Social Work (No. 70)
Overall best graduate engineering school (No. 75)
Overall best graduate education school (No. 78)
Computer Science (No. 82)
Overall medical research school (No. 88)
Part-time MBA (No. 89)

This was the first time in the top 100 for the part-time MBA, which includes both the UCF Evening MBA and the UCF Part-time Professional MBA.

On his worst, he was evacuating threatened students from Tower 1 residence hall.

But through his 41 years in law enforcement, there’s been one constant for Beary.

He cared.

And he has taught his officers to care.

“Law enforcement is still a face-to-face business,” Beary says. “I will ask my officers: ‘Tell me what you did this week to show you cared,’ and they share with me the things they did. As long as we care, and the public knows we care, this will be a great community. That’s when you know we’re in a good place.”

“As long as we care, and the public knows we care, this will be a great community.”

The Lake Mary resident will retire this week after spending 11 years overseeing , UCF’s and the Department of Security and Emergency Management. Combined with his 15 years of experience as chief of police for Lake Mary, he retires as the most tenured law enforcement executive in Central Florida.

“Under Chief Beary’s extraordinary leadership, the police force at UCF has become an innovative pacesetter for campus police organizations worldwide,” UCF President John Hitt says. “He has worked tirelessly to enhance safety, prevent crime, and strengthen ties among many campus and community stakeholders. The result is a better quality of life for UCF students, faculty, staff, and visitors.”

Call of Duty

Beary graduated from the police academy at Seminole State College in 1977 at the age of 18 as the youngest officer in Florida. So young, in fact, that he needed his parents to purchase his gun and bullets for him.

But his first glimpse of life in public service happened well before then.

His father, Ray, was the chief of Maitland and Winter Park, and his older brother, Kevin, was the former Orange County sheriff.

As a child, Beary remembers many nights hanging around the Bearys’ kitchen table where his father plotted raids alongside members from local organized-crime units.

“When you grow up around it and you see that you’re supposed to help other people and supposed to support your community and do the right thing, you fall into that mindset,” Beary says. “It’s what we’re supposed to do.”

And Beary has done it well.

He was inducted into the Florida Law Enforcement Officers’ Hall of Fame in 2017 and has twice been awarded the Medal of Valor for performance undertaken at great personal hazard.

In 2014, he became the first police chief of a university or college law enforcement agency to serve as president of the International Association of Chiefs of Police, an organization of more than 22,000 members at the time.

Perhaps, though, the greatest testament to his legacy is that his children have followed his lead.

His son, Greg, who earned his degree from UCF in criminal justice in 2011, works for the Orlando Police Department, and his daughter, Jill, is a homicide detective with the Orange County Sheriff’s Office.

“I didn’t direct my children into law enforcement. They made those decisions on their own,” he says. “They do a great job and are very dedicated employees. I’m really proud of their careers.”

Protecting Knight Nation

When Beary arrived at UCF in June 2007, he focused on building a team that incorporated good community policing and mental-health training. He believes those two priorities are the bedrocks of an effective unit.

“The community has to support you, understand your mission and they have to want to be a part of keeping their community safe,” he says. “As for the mental-health piece, we deal with so many people who are in crisis, so we need to teach people how to deal with that.”

That philosophy has led to a soft interview room��at the UCFPD station for victims of violent crimes, and Paisley, the department’s first therapy dog.

Whether it is improving their services for victims or making the community stronger, Beary said his proudest moments as chief are when his staff comes to him with ideas to address these needs.

“When your people are thinking about things [ like victim services and community building], that’s when you know you’ve had an impact.”

“When your people are thinking about these things, that’s when you know you’ve had an impact,” he says.

A self-proclaimed college football fanatic, one of his most memorable days was the football team’s first game in its on-campus stadium in 2007 against Texas.

It was his 79th day on the job.

“It was organized chaos. We did a great job of adapting on the run. It was a very challenging day, but it was very rewarding because every obstacle that got thrown at us, we handled, all the way down to a lightning delay at the football game,” he says. “All the contingency plans we had, everything happened that first game. It really bonded those of us that worked it.”

His face lights up when he talks about witnessing the Knights’ last home games of the 2017 season – the memorable wins over rival USF and Memphis to clinch the American Athletic Conference Championship. When UCF punched its ticket to the Peach Bowl, Beary traveled to Atlanta with his wife to support the Knights in perhaps the most thrilling game in school history.

“My wife never knew I could yell like that,” he said with a laugh. “She had never been to a ball game with me because I’m always working. When you saw the heart of our student-athletes, how they really and truly cared in what they brought forward – to be a part of that was a lot of fun.”

He has also experienced some truly terrible days – the ones that every officer hopes to avoid, but prepares for if they come. Without hesitation, he cites March 18, 2013, as his hardest day at UCF – the day a former student planned a gun attack but instead took his life at Tower 1.

“I think that’s where education keeps you current and helps you adapt to how the world is changing.”

“That was a very, very difficult day when you come to the realization … there is evil in this world. Only by some good police work and the grace of God did we avoid that,” he says. “No matter how much we try to do, when you are an open community, there’s chances for these kinds of people. We doubled down on our training. We made a lot of changes internally at the university. We really focus on trying to make sure no one slips through the cracks.”

In addition to his service to the university, Beary further cemented his bond to UCF when he earned his master’s degree in criminal justice in 2011. He recalls spending more time at the kitchen table completing homework than his daughter, a high school senior at the time, and pre-teen sons. Still, he credits education as a crucial tool in making him into a better officer.

“Anybody can sit in a job and keep doing the same thing over and over. The key is what’s going to be happening next? How are you going to handle things as they evolve?” he says. “I think that’s where education keeps you current and helps you adapt to how the world is changing.”

Trading in a Cruiser for a Cadillac

When Beary announced his retirement from UCF in November, he quoted his father in his letter to his officers: “Train the next generation of leaders — then step aside and give them the opportunity to step up and excel.”

Beary says the time feels right now, but he won’t quit the badge completely.

He plans to teach law enforcement leadership and officer- safety programs for the federal government and also act as a consultant for local companies.

As he reflects on the past four decades and what he’s learned, he says there are three tenets that seem to have guided his every move.

It’s simple ideology, but maybe that’s why it works, and it’s what he hopes his officers at UCF carry on after he’s gone:

1. Honor your oath of office. It’s critical.
2. Be humble with your authority.
3. Always stay current and constantly advance your training.

As for what he’ll do when he actually takes some time to relax?

There’s grandkids to play with and a to-do list five years in the making. At the top is organizing his workshop at a house he owns in Georgia near a lake.

And there will definitely be some joyrides in his white, 1976 Cadillac Eldorado convertible with plenty of memories in the rearview mirror.

Sophomore criminal justice major Yolimar Garayalde Figueroa, from northern Puerto Rico’s city of Guaynabo, had to enter a new stage of adulthood after the storm forced her to uproot her entire life to continue her education at UCF.

“It’s one thing being home having your car, having a job, going to college and saying, ‘I want to be independent. I want to live my own,’ ” says Figueroa. “But, it’s a totally different thing when you’re forced to leave and actually have to do things on your own because no one else is going to do it for you.”

Although making it through her first semester at UCF has been full of challenges, the chance to grow and create a new life is one Figueroa says she wouldn’t trade for anything.

Surviving the Storm

Figueroa’s home in Puerto Rico is near the peak of a mountain, but her parents chose to stay during the storm because her grandparents, who suffer from Alzheimer’s disease, refused to leave. They boarded up the windows, gathered food and supplies, and hoped for the best.

“The day the hurricane came it was supposed to come into the island at 8 a.m., but by 3 a.m. we already felt it.”

“The day the hurricane came it was supposed to come into the island at 8 a.m., but by 3 a.m. we already felt it. Things were already flying away,” says Figueroa.�� “I think the winds reached 175 mph.”

As Maria tore through the island, it caused a tree to fall on Figueroa’s home and create a crack in the ceiling, allowing water to drip onto her bed. Not long after, all the windows shattered and the home flooded, the water reaching up to Figueroa’s knees. Baby pictures, high school memorabilia, clothing and awards were among the items destroyed as a result.

When the storm finally passed, the concrete walls and doors were all that remained of her home. Maria’s force was strong enough to rip the terrace and a storage unit with food, supplies and water from the property. What was once a lush landscape was now a barren terrain littered with debris.

For the following months, the family, along with millions of others, struggled to find food, water and gas with the only power coming from generators.

A Life-Changing Conversation

A couple weeks after the storm, Figueroa started working at a bakery when she had a conversation with a parole officer that would change everything. Figueroa always knew she wanted to be a lawyer, but her interest in climatology led her to study geography at the ����ֱ�� of Puerto Rico’s Rio Piedras campus, located in San Juan. That conversation made her rethink her major when she arrived at UCF.

“I honestly want to go back home because [the accused need a] super expensive lawyer to avoid jail time, so I want to create a change.”

Figueroa says she was troubled by the justice system’s lack of understanding for law offenders, considering the natural disaster that everyone on the island had just endured. She now wants to complete her degree in criminal justice and although she isn’t entirely sure which field of law she wants to work in, she is considering representing people facing criminal charges.

“I want to serve in Orlando for a couple of years, but I honestly want to go back home because [the accused need a] super expensive lawyer to avoid jail time, so I want to create a change back home.”

Transitioning to UCF

Figueroa’s journey to UCF started with a Google search: “Universities helping students displaced by Hurricane Maria.” To get access to Wi-Fi she had to drive to the middle of a highway and park, or visit a mall food court, where the connection was strongest.

Results showed schools in Florida were the quickest to take action. She considered FIU in Miami, but knew it would be too expensive to live in the area. Ultimately, UCF was the best option for her because of the in-state tuition offered for students displaced by the hurricane and the affordability of living in Orlando on her own since her parents couldn’t come with her.

“I was so scared to call my parents crying because I didn’t want them to feel worse than what they were feeling because they weren’t able to come with me.”

She completed her application in November and was accepted in early December. She dedicated most of her time to preparing for her move. She arrived in Orlando a few weeks later on Jan. 3 with a friend who helped her get settled. At first Figueroa was excited for the move, but when her friend left, homesickness began to sink in.

“I was so scared to call my parents crying because I didn’t want them to feel worse than what they were feeling because they weren’t able to come with me,” she says.

To overcome her loneliness, she forced herself to get out of her room and hang out with her roommates more. She says the biggest help was attending workshops through UCF’s that focused on providing support for students from islands affected by the hurricane.

“Having a Puerto Rican doctor there that is willing to completely assist you in all your needs was great,” says Figueroa. “It’s a completely different thing if you can express yourself to a person that speaks your main language and completely understands the things you went through because they have family back home.”��

Growing Into Her Own

While she still has many years to go before becoming a lawyer, Figueroa is creating a change for herself in Orlando. She says back home she only focused on school and work, only making five or six friends as a result in her three years at her previous university.

“Here, I’ve gotten out of my comfort zone to the extreme. I’ve met so many amazing people and I’ve made a bunch of good connections.”

“Here, I’ve gotten out of my comfort zone to the extreme,” Figueroa says. “I’ve met so many amazing people and I’ve made a bunch of good connections.”

She’s maintained contact with academic advisors, as well as financial aid and staff members to ensure she’s on the right track. While she was never involved on campus previously, she’s joined the Puerto Rican Student Association, where she’s made many friends and has gained a support system.

This summer, she’ll be taking UCF Online courses while she visits her parents back home on the island.

“There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to leave because I’ve adapted to Orlando, but there’s another part of me that wants to be back home with my parents and dog – and getting free food,” she says with a laugh.

She’ll be back on campus in the fall, fulfilling her first leadership position as the PRSA’s outreach coordinator and helping other students who’ve been impacted by Hurricane Maria. In two years, Figueroa’s parents plan to move to Miami and she’ll have earned a degree from UCF and plans to be attending law school.

“Maria took away many things from me, but she also gave me many good things that I didn’t expect to have,” Figueroa says.