Amy Miguez was an Annapolis police dispatcher. The job launched a 25-year career with the department, one that is on the brink of a historic achievement.

Jared Littmann named her acting chief last week after firing Chief Ed Jackson, and the mayor is content to leave the department in her hands for months.

If he ultimately picks Miguez for the role, she would not only be the first woman to hold the job permanently but she would be the first chief to rise from the lower ranks since Bernard Kalnoske, who died of a heart attack in 1980.

“I personally would love to have a female police chief,” said Alderwoman Karma O’Neill, chair of the City Council’s public safety committee. “I think it’s time.”

It is, by no means, a sure thing. Others will seek the job, perhaps even from within the department.

Littmann asked Anne Arundel County Sheriff Everett Sesker to head a diverse search committee and expects the process of selecting a new chief to stretch into the summer.

“It’s got to be someone who is engaged in the community, someone who’s showing up, not just when there’s something bad happening and a crime, but they’re showing up to community events, developing relationships, so that they have the trust of the community,” Littman said Thursday.

He said he wants a chief who can inspire police officers to do better, work with his administration and the council and commit to data-guided police strategies.

There’s buzz around Miguez, who joined Littmann Tuesday as he fielded heated questions from the Caucus of African American Leaders about sacking Jackson.

She’s worked as a patrol officer, detective, police spokesperson, community liaison and shift commander. She’s worn the stripes of a corporal and a sergeant, the bars of a lieutenant and, most recently, the captain in charge of administration.

Miguez confirmed she’ll apply for the job but brushed aside questions about what comes next. She hopes whoever gets it keeps some of Jackson’s programs.

“They went a long way to healing some of the rifts with the community,” she said. “I want them to continue.”

By firing Jackson, Littmann joined a long tradition of Annapolis mayors. Four of the last five chiefs have been fired or pushed out since Kalnoske’s death.

Jackson had community support, particularly in low-income neighborhoods.

“I, personally, love the chief,” said Alderwoman Diesha Contee, who grew up in public housing. “He’s the only chief, I could say, who when you gave him a suggestion would actually follow through or tell you why he couldn’t.”

The flash point between Littmann and Jackson may have been, as Jackson said publicly, the chief’s refusal to settle a lawsuit by two officers he disciplined.

After talking with seven of the eight City Council members, though, it’s clear this was never going to work. It was a question of when, not if, Jackson would leave.

Jackson could be supremely confident, even visionary, in his approach to community policing.

“The next chief should build on the success that Chief Jackson had,” Alderman Brooks Schandelmeier said. “He really reached out to the low-income communities.”

He didn’t seem as interested in other parts of the job. Jackson could cite statistics on case closure rates, but he ignored requests for data the council wanted for its budget deliberations.

Jackson’s signature initiative was a reentry program that helps people convicted of crimes, usually young Black men, find jobs and build productive lives after incarceration.

The department added a cold case investigator under him, too. It went a long way toward satisfying many who suspected Annapolis Police ignored violent crimes against people of color.

Jackson didn’t spend much time correcting misperceptions of crime. Crime is not rampant in Annapolis, contrary to social media screaming or the distortion of being a victim.

“I had someone tell me, ‘My car got broken into four times last year,’” said Alderman Frank Thorp, one of four councilmembers elected in November. “Well, they didn’t lock their car and left a laptop in it!”

As Jackson closed one rift with the community, another opened within the department. The police union sued the city, issued a vote of no confidence in Jackson and endorsed Littmann, the candidate they saw as most likely to make changes.

Tensions stemmed from Jackson’s own contradictions.

He supported officers — Miguez got a master’s degree while he was chief — but was inconsistent when it came to basic things such as enforcing rules on take-home department vehicles.

He led a uniformed department but often preferred civilian clothes at official functions — choosing loud plaid jackets and porkpie hats over dress blues and the gold-braided chief’s cap.

“I think that sent a message to the uniform officers that he’s not one of us,” Alderman Rob Savidge said.

That history fostered broad agreement among councilmembers that they want to keep Jackson’s vision and ability to deal with diverse cultures but improve on his internal leadership and external communication.

Sesker’s selection committee is expected to have public and private discussions. Race, gender and the economic divide in Annapolis will certainly come up.

Committee members will also hear the term community policing. That is what Jackson was doing, but its meaning varies with the user.

The council will vote on confirming Littmann’s choice and must approve the chief’s salary. O’Neill and others want to be more involved in the process, possibly meeting the finalists.

Alderman Keanuú Smith-Brown wants to remove the requirement that the chief have a college degree. That would open the door to Deputy Chief Stan Branford, a career Baltimore officer recruited by Jackson.

“We have to do what is right, and we can’t disregard people who have life experiences,” Smith-Brown said.

The mayor is open to working with the council, within limits. He said the choice remains his.

And, although he acknowledged support for Miguez in the community, he remains open to other candidates.

“I think a lot of people will be looking at her to see how she does, and I’m among them.”