News (Media Awareness Project) - US CA: A New Option In Juvenile Justice |
Title: | US CA: A New Option In Juvenile Justice |
Published On: | 1998-10-19 |
Source: | San Luis Obispo County Telegram-Tribune (CA) |
Fetched On: | 2008-09-06 21:49:16 |
A NEW OPTION IN JUVENILE JUSTICE
SLO COUNTY
Deputy coroner Frank Moreland prepared a group of kids for a slide show.
"You may know some of these people," the coroner began. "I'm not doing this
to gross you out or hurt your feelings. I want you to know these are real
cases I've handled; they are not made up."
Before the images of death were flashed on a screen, Moreland told his
young audience: "The message is you are not invincible; you make the choice
to drink and drive -- it can happen to you. You make the choice to join a
gang -- it can happen to you. You make a choice to use drugs," the coroner
said. "It can happen to you."
Welcome to the Juvenile Impact Program -- the county's latest effort to
reach minors on the verge of entering the criminal justice system.
The program is an intense, two-month course designed to change behaviors
and impose consequences on first-time, non-violent juvenile offenders as
young as 11.
Patterned after a Los Angeles Police Department program targeting gangs,
San Luis Obispo County's 100-hour model is unlike any other local
intervention program.
"It's more hard-hitting," said Probation Chief John Lum. "Unlike
therapeutic, counseling types of interventions, this is more of a 'wake-up
call' in terms of choices these kids make and their consequences."
The program includes up to three classes a week taught by community and law
enforcement volunteers, whose presentations focus on choices and
consequences for everything from drug use to promiscuity to joining a gang.
The two-hour evening classes, held at the Veterans Memorial Building in San
Luis Obispo, allow time for homework, tutoring and lessons in resume
writing.
Another component is designed to instill discipline, teamwork and respect
for authority.
For seven consecutive Saturdays, participants are led through an hour of
military-type workouts, followed by five hours of community service work.
Sheriff's Deputy Ray Johnson and Probation Officer J.T. Camp developed the
local program and oversee the same group of minors throughout the two
months.
"We have kids you wouldn't think would get into trouble," said Johnson. "We
have 'A' students. We have a couple of girls -- one who was paid $2 to push
a girl down some stairs. We want to drive it home early, before they even
think about doing the wrong thing again, that there are immediate
consequences for these decisions."
Juveniles are dropped off Saturdays at Santa Rosa Park dressed in
"uniforms" of gray sweatclothes and white tennis shoes. They are searched
for contraband and those caught with illegal substances are cut from the
program.
Those who make it through are rewarded with a graduation ceremony attended
by their parents. Good behavior gets them a reduction in work hours, to
teach them there are positive consequences for making good choices.
"This has been real effective," said a father whose child is in the program
for behavior problems. The father declined to be named to protect his
child's privacy.
"It's been a shock to a lot of the kids and to the parents, but in a
positive, straightforward way," he said. "It's not the politically correct
type of program.
"With all the child rights in this society, children have forgotten that
with rights, you have responsibilities. What these kids are learning is
that if you don't take responsibility for your actions, sooner or later,
you'll lose those rights."
Minors can be referred by parents, probation, law enforcement, schools or a
judge in lieu of prosecution, expulsion or court-ordered fines. About 40
juveniles were referred for the first class, although the program is
designed to accommodate about half that number.
Juveniles who commit felony offenses or require counseling or treatment for
chemical dependencies are screened out. Because parent involvement is
considered key to the child's success, those whose parents or guardians
refuse to participate are also disqualified.
Parenting classes are mandatory. "Parents have to be a vital part of the
solution," said Probation Officer Camp. "If the kids get home and mom and
dad are running amok, then the skills they learned here have gone to waste."
Retired Sheriff Ed Williams, Probation Chief Lum and District Attorney Gere
Shea collaborated to bring to the county a version of the Los Angeles
program that is now run through the Governor's Office.
More than 2,000 minors have gone through the Los Angeles program since its
1991 inception. A survey by the Los Angeles Police Department's behavioral
sciences section reportedly found 70 percent of the youths who completed
the program demonstrated a positive behavior change.
Frank DiPaola, the Los Angeles police officer who founded the program, is
now Gov. Pete Wilson's Juvenile Justice liaison. DiPaola's job is to help
counties like San Luis Obispo start their own programs.
"It's not a 'nice, nice, feel good' program, which is why it works," said
DiPaola. "They only respect what they love or fear, and to some degree,
there is fear. They don't love us right off."
DiPaola likened the program to a boot camp designed to "get rid of the ego"
and replace it with self-worth and respect for others. He said the officers
who run the program become mentors to the minors.
"We have to -- we should be in the business of helping kids and not be
involved in crime suppression; those days are gone," said DiPaola. "Because
we have done such a lousy job recruiting kids for the good, we are giving
our kids over to the gangs, who are out there recruiting every day."
DiPaola was a guest speaker the first night of the local program. He said
he's vacationed in San Luis Obispo County and has noticed a marked increase
in graffiti and other evidence of gang activity, which he said is
comparable in sophistication to where Los Angeles was a decade ago.
"Once we make kids see the stupidity and futility of their evil ways, they
respond to this program," he said. "They see it as us reaching out a hand.
All they have to do is grab it."
The program's first night is intended to be the most grueling.
Each juvenile offender is required to stand before the group and explain
what he or she did to be arrested, ticketed or referred to the program --
which the two officers say is the first step in taking responsibility for
the offense.
Parents are also involved in the discussion. The climate is intentionally
confrontational to put the parents and child on notice that bad behavior
will not be tolerated.
Carlos Kristales, a parolee from the California Youth Authority, talks
tough to the kids. One local woman who attended the first session said she
walked out, appalled by what she observed.
"The parolee was nose-to-nose with these kids and the parents -- he was in
their face, screaming and yelling obscenities," said Kathleen Richen, who
coordinates the Friends Outside volunteer program at the county Juvenile
Services Center.
"I have a lot of confidence in (the two officers who head the program), and
I saw them walking around the room and putting their hand on the shoulders
of the kids or parents who were being yelled at," Richen said.
"If they were to change anything about the program, I would like to see a
softer and gentler first session. The kids in juvenile hall aren't treated
like that -- why should first offenders be treated like that?"
Kristales, who lives in Los Angeles and assists the program's founder, said
he talks frank to kids about his prison experiences because he cares about
them and doesn't want them to choose the path he did.
"I tell them to always remember one thing: The easiest thing you can do is
go to prison -- the hardest thing you can do is get out," said Kristales.
"Once you get in there, there are a lot of mind games and rules, and people
who aren't used to being disciplined are going to have a hard time inside.
There's a lot of suicide watches. Kids just aren't meant to be locked up."
A 17-year-old boy in the local program said it's tougher than juvenile
hall. "I won't say I like it," he said. "I hated it the first couple of
hours. But I'm getting something out of it. You can't give these guys any
backtalk," he said, referring to the deputy and probation officer in
charge. "They don't let you get away with anything, and you have to respect
that."
An 11-year-old boy in the program said he worried he wasn't strong enough
to keep up with the rest of the group during Saturday workouts, which
include running, pushups and calisthenics. "But I am," he said, beaming
with pride.
"For me, it was a choice of this program or going to court, and I didn't
want to be on probation. I would just like to say one thing: Anybody who
wants to do anything bad has to think twice, because this is really hard.
You can't play with your friends on Saturdays, you have to wash cop cars,
clean highways and paint out graffiti. But it makes me think. I won't be
getting behind the wheel of a car drunk, and I don't want to do drugs," the
boy said during a break from the coroner's presentation.
Deputy Johnson described the kids in the program as "more borderline" than
serious offenders. "They all could turn out well, but if we don't step in,
they could go the other way," he said.
"It's all about choices and consequences. If you choose well, you'll do
well. If you don't, that may be what determines whether you end up locked
up, hurt, or dead."
(c) 1998 San Luis Obispo County Telegram-Tribune
SLO COUNTY
Deputy coroner Frank Moreland prepared a group of kids for a slide show.
"You may know some of these people," the coroner began. "I'm not doing this
to gross you out or hurt your feelings. I want you to know these are real
cases I've handled; they are not made up."
Before the images of death were flashed on a screen, Moreland told his
young audience: "The message is you are not invincible; you make the choice
to drink and drive -- it can happen to you. You make the choice to join a
gang -- it can happen to you. You make a choice to use drugs," the coroner
said. "It can happen to you."
Welcome to the Juvenile Impact Program -- the county's latest effort to
reach minors on the verge of entering the criminal justice system.
The program is an intense, two-month course designed to change behaviors
and impose consequences on first-time, non-violent juvenile offenders as
young as 11.
Patterned after a Los Angeles Police Department program targeting gangs,
San Luis Obispo County's 100-hour model is unlike any other local
intervention program.
"It's more hard-hitting," said Probation Chief John Lum. "Unlike
therapeutic, counseling types of interventions, this is more of a 'wake-up
call' in terms of choices these kids make and their consequences."
The program includes up to three classes a week taught by community and law
enforcement volunteers, whose presentations focus on choices and
consequences for everything from drug use to promiscuity to joining a gang.
The two-hour evening classes, held at the Veterans Memorial Building in San
Luis Obispo, allow time for homework, tutoring and lessons in resume
writing.
Another component is designed to instill discipline, teamwork and respect
for authority.
For seven consecutive Saturdays, participants are led through an hour of
military-type workouts, followed by five hours of community service work.
Sheriff's Deputy Ray Johnson and Probation Officer J.T. Camp developed the
local program and oversee the same group of minors throughout the two
months.
"We have kids you wouldn't think would get into trouble," said Johnson. "We
have 'A' students. We have a couple of girls -- one who was paid $2 to push
a girl down some stairs. We want to drive it home early, before they even
think about doing the wrong thing again, that there are immediate
consequences for these decisions."
Juveniles are dropped off Saturdays at Santa Rosa Park dressed in
"uniforms" of gray sweatclothes and white tennis shoes. They are searched
for contraband and those caught with illegal substances are cut from the
program.
Those who make it through are rewarded with a graduation ceremony attended
by their parents. Good behavior gets them a reduction in work hours, to
teach them there are positive consequences for making good choices.
"This has been real effective," said a father whose child is in the program
for behavior problems. The father declined to be named to protect his
child's privacy.
"It's been a shock to a lot of the kids and to the parents, but in a
positive, straightforward way," he said. "It's not the politically correct
type of program.
"With all the child rights in this society, children have forgotten that
with rights, you have responsibilities. What these kids are learning is
that if you don't take responsibility for your actions, sooner or later,
you'll lose those rights."
Minors can be referred by parents, probation, law enforcement, schools or a
judge in lieu of prosecution, expulsion or court-ordered fines. About 40
juveniles were referred for the first class, although the program is
designed to accommodate about half that number.
Juveniles who commit felony offenses or require counseling or treatment for
chemical dependencies are screened out. Because parent involvement is
considered key to the child's success, those whose parents or guardians
refuse to participate are also disqualified.
Parenting classes are mandatory. "Parents have to be a vital part of the
solution," said Probation Officer Camp. "If the kids get home and mom and
dad are running amok, then the skills they learned here have gone to waste."
Retired Sheriff Ed Williams, Probation Chief Lum and District Attorney Gere
Shea collaborated to bring to the county a version of the Los Angeles
program that is now run through the Governor's Office.
More than 2,000 minors have gone through the Los Angeles program since its
1991 inception. A survey by the Los Angeles Police Department's behavioral
sciences section reportedly found 70 percent of the youths who completed
the program demonstrated a positive behavior change.
Frank DiPaola, the Los Angeles police officer who founded the program, is
now Gov. Pete Wilson's Juvenile Justice liaison. DiPaola's job is to help
counties like San Luis Obispo start their own programs.
"It's not a 'nice, nice, feel good' program, which is why it works," said
DiPaola. "They only respect what they love or fear, and to some degree,
there is fear. They don't love us right off."
DiPaola likened the program to a boot camp designed to "get rid of the ego"
and replace it with self-worth and respect for others. He said the officers
who run the program become mentors to the minors.
"We have to -- we should be in the business of helping kids and not be
involved in crime suppression; those days are gone," said DiPaola. "Because
we have done such a lousy job recruiting kids for the good, we are giving
our kids over to the gangs, who are out there recruiting every day."
DiPaola was a guest speaker the first night of the local program. He said
he's vacationed in San Luis Obispo County and has noticed a marked increase
in graffiti and other evidence of gang activity, which he said is
comparable in sophistication to where Los Angeles was a decade ago.
"Once we make kids see the stupidity and futility of their evil ways, they
respond to this program," he said. "They see it as us reaching out a hand.
All they have to do is grab it."
The program's first night is intended to be the most grueling.
Each juvenile offender is required to stand before the group and explain
what he or she did to be arrested, ticketed or referred to the program --
which the two officers say is the first step in taking responsibility for
the offense.
Parents are also involved in the discussion. The climate is intentionally
confrontational to put the parents and child on notice that bad behavior
will not be tolerated.
Carlos Kristales, a parolee from the California Youth Authority, talks
tough to the kids. One local woman who attended the first session said she
walked out, appalled by what she observed.
"The parolee was nose-to-nose with these kids and the parents -- he was in
their face, screaming and yelling obscenities," said Kathleen Richen, who
coordinates the Friends Outside volunteer program at the county Juvenile
Services Center.
"I have a lot of confidence in (the two officers who head the program), and
I saw them walking around the room and putting their hand on the shoulders
of the kids or parents who were being yelled at," Richen said.
"If they were to change anything about the program, I would like to see a
softer and gentler first session. The kids in juvenile hall aren't treated
like that -- why should first offenders be treated like that?"
Kristales, who lives in Los Angeles and assists the program's founder, said
he talks frank to kids about his prison experiences because he cares about
them and doesn't want them to choose the path he did.
"I tell them to always remember one thing: The easiest thing you can do is
go to prison -- the hardest thing you can do is get out," said Kristales.
"Once you get in there, there are a lot of mind games and rules, and people
who aren't used to being disciplined are going to have a hard time inside.
There's a lot of suicide watches. Kids just aren't meant to be locked up."
A 17-year-old boy in the local program said it's tougher than juvenile
hall. "I won't say I like it," he said. "I hated it the first couple of
hours. But I'm getting something out of it. You can't give these guys any
backtalk," he said, referring to the deputy and probation officer in
charge. "They don't let you get away with anything, and you have to respect
that."
An 11-year-old boy in the program said he worried he wasn't strong enough
to keep up with the rest of the group during Saturday workouts, which
include running, pushups and calisthenics. "But I am," he said, beaming
with pride.
"For me, it was a choice of this program or going to court, and I didn't
want to be on probation. I would just like to say one thing: Anybody who
wants to do anything bad has to think twice, because this is really hard.
You can't play with your friends on Saturdays, you have to wash cop cars,
clean highways and paint out graffiti. But it makes me think. I won't be
getting behind the wheel of a car drunk, and I don't want to do drugs," the
boy said during a break from the coroner's presentation.
Deputy Johnson described the kids in the program as "more borderline" than
serious offenders. "They all could turn out well, but if we don't step in,
they could go the other way," he said.
"It's all about choices and consequences. If you choose well, you'll do
well. If you don't, that may be what determines whether you end up locked
up, hurt, or dead."
(c) 1998 San Luis Obispo County Telegram-Tribune
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