In late September, Torri was driving down the highway with her 11-year-old son Junior in the back seat when her phone started ringing.
It was the Hamilton County Sheriff’s deputy who worked at Junior’s middle school in Chattanooga, Tennessee. Deputy Arthur Richardson asked Torri where she was. She told him she was on the way to a family birthday dinner at LongHorn Steakhouse.
“He said, ‘Is Junior with you?’” Torri recalled.
Earlier that day, Junior had been accused by other students of making a threat against the school. When Torri had come to pick him up, she’d spoken with Richardson and with administrators, who’d told her he was allowed to return to class the next day. The principal had said she would carry out an investigation then. ProPublica and WPLN are using a nickname for Junior and not including Torri’s last name at the family’s request, to prevent him from being identifiable.
When Richardson called her in the car, Torri immediately felt uneasy. He didn’t say much before hanging up, and she thought about turning around to go home. But she kept driving. When they walked into the restaurant, Torri watched as Junior happily greeted his family.
Soon her phone rang again. It was the deputy. He said he was outside in the strip mall’s parking lot and needed to talk to Junior. Torri called Junior’s stepdad, Kevin Boyer, for extra support, putting him on speaker as she went outside to talk to Richardson. She left Junior with the family, wanting to protect her son for as long as she could ...
TUCSON, Arizona — Adriana Grijalva was getting ready to head to class at the University of Arizona in the fall of 2022 when she got a text message from her cousin telling her to stay put. The cousin, who works in maintenance at the university, had watched law enforcement descend on campus and reached out to make sure she was safe. A former student had just shot a professor 11 times, killing him.
Equal Justice USA (EJUSA) announced October 8 that it will partner with four new communities to build new restorative youth justice diversion programs. Restorative justice includes an accountability process that identifies root causes of youth criminal actions, while providing an opportunity for healing both for the person harmed and the person who has caused harm.
Louisiana is the only state to pass and then reverse Raise the Age legislation. Louisiana’s criminal justice system now treats all 17-year-olds as adults. Is reversing Raise the Age making a difference in the number of violent crimes by 18-year-olds?
A proposal to return first-time, nonviolent 17-year-old offenders in Wisconsin to the juvenile justice system has broader bipartisan support than in the past but faces opposition from the state’s top law enforcement officer. Wisconsin is one of 11 states that try 17-year-olds as adults. The others include Georgia, Louisiana, Massachusetts, Michigan, Missouri, New Hampshire, South Carolina and Texas. North Carolina and New York try 16-year-olds as adults.
Last June, on the day the U.S. Supreme Court ruled on Miller v. Alabama, I spoke to a long-time advocate for the elimination of juvenile life without parole. Like a lot of people, I was pleased with the ruling, and saw it as a victory not only for activists but for science-based research into the juvenile brain. I jokingly asked him, “What are you going to do now that you’ve accomplished your task?” He laughed, but then he said, “It’s not really over.”
The ruling was far less clear than Roper v. Simmons, which eliminated juvenile death sentences in 2005, and 2010’s Graham v. Florida, which found juvenile life without parole for non-homicide offenses was unconstitutional. In both of these cases the court determined that a body of growing evidence demonstrated the fundamental differences in juvenile brains when compared to those of adults, with the result that juveniles are both less culpable for crimes and more capable of being rehabilitated. Miller has offered no such clarity, and the consequences of such a soft decision continue to be played out across the country.
Today on Bokeh, JJIE's arts blog of youth culture and justice, photos and and interview with C.I., age 17, in Johnson County Juvenile Detention, Olathe, Kan. who says he hasn't received his medication and will be in detention for 23 more days.
As he grew up, Kharon Benson became accustomed to his father’s absence. But, when he was 10 years old, his mother handed him a letter and revealed a family secret.