ON THE INSIDE, THEY'RE KIDS NEEDING HOPE

Bernadette Walsh draws a short, black line on the whiteboard in her office.
It represents a life, typical of those she sees at Connexions, an outreach
and care program for young drug users who also have mental-health problems.

She puts a cross at the start of the line: it represents birth. Along a
bit, another X is sexual or physical abuse. Then a series of crosses family
breakdown, homelessness, heroin use, early mental illness, violence, crime,
juvenile detention centre, more heroin, psychosis, prison ...

The most depressing part of the diagram is the arrow back to the start,
when a child is born to the person whose life is depicted. Then it begins
all over again.

The challenge for Connexions and other treatment and advocacy groups is to
find a way to break this destructive cycle.

For many young people, incarceration in a juvenile justice centre is a new
low. Assaults and intimidation by other offenders are common. A recent
government-initiated review of Malmsbury Juvenile Justice Centre found that
a lessening of staff control and an increase in offenders with drug
problems had led to a culture of intimidation.

An unsigned letter sent recently to the State Opposition's community
services spokeswoman Lorraine Elliott says: "Melbourne Juvenile Justice
Centre (in Parkville) is an unsafe place for kids."

Despite these problems, juvenile justice centres are a potential
circuit-breaker to the life outlined by Bernadette Walsh.

Melbourne Juvenile Justice Centre, Parkville Youth Residential Centre and
Malmsbury offer methadone and other treatment programs, access to youth
workers and, importantly, remove offenders from their drug-taking friends.
Post-release services, while under-resourced, are there to help with jobs,
accommodation, drug rehabilitation and counselling.

Yet after release, young men have death rates 10 times that of the general
community, and female offenders are 40 times more likely to die than
others. The main cause of death is drug overdose followed by suicide and
accident.

While the deaths are occurring outside the juvenile justice system and are
not caused by it, the system despite its methadone and other programs is
failing to stop the rush towards early death at the end of Bernadette
Walsh's short, black line.

Drugs, and heroin particularly, have changed both the young prison
population and the nature of penal institutions.

About 80 per cent of young men and most young women in juvenile justice
centres are heroin users. Five years ago, 220 young offenders went through
drug-rehabilitation programs in the past 12 months the figure had jumped to
727.

Criminal barrister Richard Bourke says: "Youth training centres used to
have kids in them who were struggling with adolescence and coming from
backgrounds of abuse and acting out and committing crimes in that way. Now
they've turned into little more than detox and holding centres for the
enormous number of drug-addicted children we've got in there."

That heroin is smuggled into juvenile justice centres is not widely disputed.

Even the Community Services Minister Christine Campbell says: "Any minister
who says there is no heroin in any one of their custodial facilities is
fooling themselves."

Tran, a former inmate at Melbourne Juvenile Justice Centre, says: "They
search, but they don't search properly." Other ex-inmates say the
availability of heroin in juvenile justice mirrors what's happening on the
outside; when there's a drought, it's difficult to get, but a couple of
years ago it was everywhere.

Juvenile justice centres and prisons have a zero-tolerance policy on drugs.
But some health experts say clean syringes and other equipment, though not
heroin, should be provided to prisoners. This would reduce the risk of HIV,
hepatitis C and other disease through the sharing of needles. Under a "harm
minimisation" policy, offenders would be taught to use heroin as safely as
possible, and that education, so the reasoning goes, might save their lives
when they are released and more likely to overdose.

The approach is supported by Friederike Veit, who is the program director
of the Adolescent Forensic Health Service, part of the Women's and
Children's Healthcare Network, which provides health services to Victoria's
juvenile justice centres.

In a report published in Drug and Alcohol Reviewlast year, Dr Veit says
harm-minimisation arguments are challenging traditional zero-tolerance
approaches.

She believes that youths in custody should have access to the same health
services as the community. "Incarceration should be the only punishment for
young offenders; it is an infringement of their rights to be unable to
access services that can reduce their risks of morbidity and mortality,"
she wrote.

Her view is backed by the general manager of the Royal Children's Hospital,
Glenn Bowes, who said the approach should be tried and evaluated.

Rob Moodie, the chief executive officer of Vic Health, believes the
provision of syringes is an appropriate public-health measure in prisons.
Experience in Switzerland showed the security and safety of prison staff
improved when syringes were out in the open rather than hidden. But he
concedes: "It would take a lot of courage to do it here."

Community Services Minister Christine Campbell has considered supplying
syringes but rejected it, opting for a mix of methadone programs and
rehabilitation.

"Young people primarily are in custodial facilities because they're drug
addicts or have been caught on drug-related crimes. Part of the
rehabilitation is society saying we're prepared to invest in you, we are
prepared to invest in a drug-rehabilitation program. To, at the same time,
say here are the needles if you bring in contraband, it undermines the
whole strategy. I don't want one counteracting the other."

Dave, 21, started using heroin when he was 14 to "see what it would do". He
says: "I loved it from that first time and didn't stop." Like many young
heroin users, he lived on the streets and stole to support his habit. "All
the crime and shit I've done in life has been for heroin," he says. "I have
taken it all ... everything, but heroin is the only one I have rorted for.
I done a lot of crime for heroin."

He was sentenced to 20 months for a series of offences including
trafficking, assault and theft. In Malmsbury, Dave asked to go on to The
Edge, a residential eight-week drug-treatment program, and says he is now
the cleanest he has been since starting to use. Lots of different programs
were available for those wanting them. Dave regards detention centre staff
as youth workers rather than screws. "They do give a f... about us," he says.

Dave and his friend, Steve, are regulars at the Brosnan Centre in Brunswick
one of three groups funded by the Department of Community Services to
provide services for youths released from juvenile justice.

Steve says he was one of the first to start The Edge, but was kicked off
the program after two days for having "dirty urine", or traces of drugs. He
believes the program is more tolerant of breaches now. Both are dismissive
of the methadone program, saying they preferred to use or be clean, not in
between. "Coming off heroin takes seven to 10 days at worst, but with
methadone you hang out for a month," says Steve.

Anne Hooker has worked in community corrections and prisons for 14 years.
She is a youth development officer in the youth unit at Port Phillip
Prison. The 70-inmate unit accommodates 17- to 21-year-olds, and a few
older prisoners, on remand or sentenced to prison rather than a juvenile
justice centre. Most have undergone detoxification in Melbourne Assessment
Prison.

She says offenders in the past four years have become younger and more
violent, often because of drugs. The unit has programs designed to give
youths a reason not to take drugs when they are released.

Everyone is expected to take part in drug, personal development, anger
management and other programs. Ms Hooker rejects policies that anticipate
continued drug use. "All the program does is teach them how to use
different types of drugs and to be smarter in their use. That's not helping
them. It's basically helping them to kill themselves," she says.

A review of Malmsbury Juvenile Justice Centre ordered by Ms Campbell last
year substantiated claims that some inmates were pressured by other
prisoners to act as drug couriers when returning from leave. It found that
assaults against staff had increased significantly in the previous 12
months and that some staff turned a blind eye to marijuana smoking.

Richard Bourke, secretary of the Criminal Bar Association, fears that a
review into similar allegations at Melbourne Juvenile Justice Centre will
lead to pressure for a tougher line in youth centres.

Victoria has a liberal approach compared to other states and incarcerates
offenders only as a last resort. The State Government prefers to direct
young offenders to diversionary or rehabilitation programs rather than
imprison them.

But there is agitation among some juvenile justice staff for not only a
harder disciplinary line, but also in questioning the drug-treatment programs.

A letter to the Opposition from staff criticises the widespread use of
methadone and says there is no assessment of the program. "When they leave
Parkville they will not continue to use methadone but will instead use
heroin. A lot of people are of the opinion that the administration of
methadone is not about treating kids but is used to manage their behavior."

In her article, Dr Veit says methadone programs are carefully monitored by
health staff but acknowledges that negative perceptions about it are held
by custodial staff, family and some offenders. "Ill-informed, negative
comments about methadone from others have an important impact on reducing
motivation to continue on methadone, thereby increasing the risk of
overdose on release," she says.

The names of some offenders have been changed to protect their identities.