In Georgia, Getting Smart on Juvenile Crime
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The task of looking at kids who have come to the court’s attention and figuring out the best way to support them and their families.
Juvenile Justice Information Exchange (https://jjie.org/author/john-lash/page/6/)
The task of looking at kids who have come to the court’s attention and figuring out the best way to support them and their families.
The tough on crime policies born in the 90s have run smack into the fiscal realities of the recession, with some surprisingly positive consequences for juvenile justice reform.
It was all about the pecans. Growing up in south Georgia (where we pronounce the last syllable as “can”), I was accustomed to the highest quality pecans: large, light brown and delicious.
One of the most entrenched ideas in American culture is that punishment is effective both at creating justice and at affecting change in those who do wrong. The basic concept is that when someone does something I don’t like I hurt them, or threaten to hurt them, and they change. Obviously this kind of violence does work, but it is limited by my ability and willingness to harm you. We see this idea demonstrated in everything from child rearing to war. We also see it played out in the realm of juvenile justice policy.
The myth of Thanksgiving is deeply embedded in American culture. I can remember cutting out paper turkeys and making pilgrim hats and Indian headdresse as a small childs. The teachers would tell us the story of the near starving pilgrims, saved by the Indians. Visions of Squanto, fish heads, maize and peaceful coexistence made for a nice story that I never had reason to doubt. As an adult I have learned more about the history of Thanksgiving, including how the story we tell is mostly historically inaccurate.
The woman, a grandmother, was telling me about her two grandsons, aged four and five, “I’m afraid for them, and they are just little boys.”
She was explaining how, as boys will, they tussled and played rough sometimes. One of them was a little “hyper,” but they were both good kids. The boys’ mom was raising them with the help of the grandmother, and both were invested in bringing the boys up to excel in school and in life. The grandmother was worried that their rambunctiousness might be labeled as inappropriate and the boys could already be going off the tracks. Why was she so concerned?
There is a world within prisons that only the prisoners know. Correctional officers, administrators, counselors and academics may all have access to a part of the life of a prisoner, but these windows by their nature only offer a limited view of the happenings behind the barbed wire. There's a disconnect that makes it difficult to see that world through a prisoner’s eyes. One way to bridge this gap in information is to go directly to the source: the prisoners. The Council of Juvenile Correctional Administrators recently featured a short article by Kim Godfrey, the Executive Director of Performance Based Standards Learning Institute (PbSLi).
On my first day in prison the doctor checked to see if I was a homosexual. It was a regular part of the intake process, and anyone discovered to be gay (as determined by the doctor) was placed in segregation. This was my introduction to the extra burdens that gay men faced in confinement. Beyond the normal dangers of being in prison, gay men had to face additional dangers, and were always more likely to be assaulted, robbed and raped. Even so, many men who were gay preferred to live in the general population instead of the “sissy dorm” and many others worked to hide their sexual orientation from the staff and the inmates.
Kids are different. That, in many ways, is the bottom line of the U.S. Supreme Court’s ruling in Miller v. Alabama.
Being a prisoner isn’t easy. Prisons in the United States, including juvenile prisons, are terrible places to be.