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?
Real change takes more than just ideas, it requires sustained and supported implementation of those ideas, and a willingness to make course corrections based on new data. It also requires that the ideas dreamed up by policy wonks get translated into useful action on the ground. Too often there is a disconnect between good ideas and actual practice. In the realm of juvenile justice we are seeing the fruition of just this kind of ongoing effort. Across the country laws are changing, policies are being rewritten and the realization that “kids are different” is being absorbed from top to bottom.
“I want these gang members to know it ain’t the only way,” said Rico, a 27-year-old standing in the doorway of a dusty bodega on Kingston Avenue in Brooklyn.
Too many kids are starting to use alcohol and drugs, addiction rates are soaring and lives are being destroyed. Now is the pivotal moment to bring these issues front and center.
Sitting in a circle has an equalizing effect, allowing everyone to see each other clearly, inviting connection. It has a different feeling than sitting in rows to hear a presentation, or sitting in a courtroom facing a judge. There isn’t anywhere to hide in a circle. It is my experience that circles invite us to share vulnerability and honesty. I was reminded of this when I watched an hour-long documentary, Fixing Juvie Justice, on PBS.
