TEENS IN A GRAY AREA

Two years ago, Connecticut passed a law to make it easier for Lu Ann
Schneider of Windsor Locks and other parents to get help for their
rebellious 16- and 17-year-olds.

The "youth in crisis" legislation was supposed to give parents, police, and
the courts a way to rein in troubled teens.

The law's goal was to get these "gray area" teens - no longer children, not
legally adults - the mental-health and drug counseling or job training they
need.

But since the law took effect July 1, 2001, it has been branded ineffective
by some parents, lawmakers, and child- and juvenile- justice advocates.

Parts of the law are applied inconsistently and are open to broad
interpretation. In particular, a section of the statute giving police
authority to locate and retrieve runaway youths is interpreted and applied
unevenly, critics say.

Unlike a child 15 or younger, a 16- or 17-year-old who runs away from home
cannot be forced to return. And although teens cannot drop out of school
until 18 without a parent's permission, it isn't illegal to be a truant.

Since the law passed, a 16- or 17-year-old who repeatedly runs away or
skips more than four days of school in a month or 10 days in a school year
can be deemed by the court a "youth in crisis." That declaration can
trigger the counseling to get a kid back on track.

Questions have been raised, for example, about the way East Hampton police
responded to Makayla Korpinen, a runaway 16-year-old who died of an Ecstasy
overdose in May.

Schneider says her worst fear is that her runaway 17-year-old daughter,
Brittany, who used Ecstasy before moving on to other narcotics, her mother
says, will wind up dead like Makayla.

Some observers say the law gives an inordinate measure of control to the
teens it is designed to protect, and it lacks the teeth to hold defiant
adolescents accountable.

More Than 900 Petitions Filed

Anyone, including parents, school officials, police, town officials, and
probation officers, may petition the court for youth in crisis intervention.

The state's juvenile courts have granted fewer than 5 percent of the more
than 900 petitions filed from July 2001 to June 2002. A petition must be
granted before a troubled teen has access to services.

Hundreds more never got that far because they were either dismissed by the
court or withdrawn by the petitioner. The law's advocates point out that
some dismissals and withdrawals have favorable results, such as a child
agreeing to get counseling.

Treatment Services Limited

Even those who receive intervention face delays for treatment and
counseling because of the juvenile court's limited resources. Lawmakers, in
last spring's budget battle, cut about $650,000 from the judicial budget
earmarked to provide services to youths in crisis.

"It's the lack of programs and services to implement the law which is at
the core of the issue," said Martha Stone, who runs the Center for
Children's Advocacy at the University of Connecticut School of Law.

Schneider says the youth in crisis petition the court granted this summer
came too late to help Brittany. After the girl used her parents' ATM card
to take $100, her anguished mother filed theft charges.

Brittany was arrested Monday and, because of her age, arraigned in adult
court. The judge ordered her into the York Correctional Institution in
Niantic, where she is undergoing the psychiatric and drug screening she had
been waiting to receive in juvenile court.

"I'm not trying to be a mean mom," said Schneider, who had to quit work to
cope with her child. "But I'm at the end of my rope. I just want her to get
help."

The issue of how the youth in crisis law is supposed to work - and
instances where it hasn't - have surfaced since Makayla became the state's
first confirmed Ecstasy overdose.

Makayla's Case Troubling

Days before she died, Makayla ran away across town to live with her
boyfriend and his family.

Along with a criminal investigation into Makayla's death, the state is
probing whether law enforcement and other public agencies went far enough
to place the teen in a safe environment.

Makayla's mother, Catherine Korpinen, has publicly declared frustration
over her inability to use social-service agencies and police to bring her
daughter home.

There is no indication that a petition to have Makayla declared a youth in
crisis was ever brought. But based on the law's rocky start, some question
whether its remedies would have come in time to help her.

Rep. Gail K. Hamm, D-East Hampton, has closely followed Makayla's case not
only because the girl lived in her district, but because Hamm's law
practice and legislative-committee work focus on children's issues.

"The lesson we can learn from the tragic death ... is that many of the
interventions that were supposed to be in place failed on all levels in her
case," Hamm said.

Catherine Korpinen is lobbying for elimination of the "gray area" in which
the state effectively treats 16- and 17-year-olds as adults.

Some key lawmakers are looking to change state law to classify anyone under
18 a juvenile.

Youth in crisis emerged from the frustrations of parents whose older teens
were runaways or truants.

"We did this work for the children, as well as the parents," said Rep. Mary
Mushinsky, D-Wallingford, who co-wrote the youth in crisis measure.
"Because if you allow a kid to make a bad decision at a young age, they'll
pay for it later in life."

Law Needs Improvement

Mushinsky and other supporters praise the law's intent, but they concede
that improvements are needed in the way it's used by the courts, law
enforcement and social-service agencies.

One area that most agree requires immediate focus is deepening the
understanding of police about their duties and responsibilities.

Under the law, police, once alerted to a runaway, are allowed to look for
and report the teen's location.

Police also are permitted, if necessary, to take the teen into protective
custody - not arrested, no handcuffs, no jail cell - for no more than 12
hours while they determine whether the teen can return home or becomes a
ward of the state.

In Makayla's case, when her mother contacted East Hampton police about her
runaway daughter, she was reportedly told there was nothing police could
do. Catherine Korpinen and her lawyer did not respond to repeated requests
for comment.

Hamm said she believes police misinterpreted their responsibilities under
the crisis law. Hamm said Makayla should have at least been taken into
protective custody.

Police Chief Matthew Reimondo said his agency never received a formal
runaway report on Makayla, adding he stands "by the decisions made by my
men." He said, however, that if the state's probe determines his department
did something wrong, "then we'll take a closer look at it."

Stone says the law's careful phrasing ensures that, in circumstances where
an adolescent is fleeing a mentally or physically abusive home, police
aren't mandated to return a runaway to that environment.

From July 1, 2001, to June 30, 2002, 943 crisis petitions were filed in
the state's juvenile courts, according to Judicial Branch data. Of those,
only 45 or so received court-ordered supervision.

The supervision figures don't reflect the hundreds more petitions that are
either dismissed or withdrawn because the court or the parent is convinced
that a kid has gotten the message and promises to seek treatment and behave.

The volume of cases becomes more stark when divided by judicial district.

Data show juvenile courts in New Haven, the Rockville section of Vernon and
Waterbury each handled more petitions in 12 months than more populous
districts such as Bridgeport and Hartford, which historically have needed
more in the way of social services.

Numbers Not Whole Story

Chief Juvenile Judge Michael Mack cautioned against using the data to draw
inferences as to why some districts are more active than others with crisis
petitions.

"A court doesn't go out knocking on doors, looking for cases," he said.

Some observers say the disparity reflects concern in some districts that
the combination of the law's lack of teeth and the courts' scarce resources
render intervention fruitless.

Mack insists that any frustrations of the judges and court staff aren't
interfering with the handling and disposition of crisis petitions.

"They want it to work," Mack said. "They all are trying."