Behind the bars of the juvenile justice system

Where only first names appear, names have been changed to protect the identities of the sources.

It was past 1 a.m. when Christopher, a junior, and his cousin walked down a street in Langley Park, his white shirt conveniently covering shank slipped in his back pocket. Moments later, Christopher felt the cold slap of silver handcuffs against his wrists as an undercover cop shouted, "You're under arrest."

That was two summers ago, when a then 14-year-old Christopher proudly accompanied teenage friends and family members to fights. Ranging anywhere from one-on-one to five-on-five, fighting was a game that he was accustomed to winning and a crime he got away with. But on that warm July night, his actions landed him in a juvenile detention facility.

A variety of crimes lead to the incarceration of a teen. According to the Office of Juvenile Justice and Delinquency Prevention, juveniles committed 16.4 percent of all crimes in the United States in 2002. But, no matter the crime, time spent in a juvenile detention facility affects the teens, their families, and their future.

Reflection

In a dark cell with nothing but sleek silver bars and pale blue walls to look at, Christopher spent that night reflecting on his crimes. He sat on the bench of the small holding cell with nothing but a sink and a toilet, that evening's events playing over and over in his mind with nothing but silent anger to keep him company. In a stuffy, cramped room, Christopher was not afraid of being in juvenile hall, as first-time offenders often are; he was simply mad he'd gotten caught.

But last year, fear did strike Matt, a sophomore, when a police officer asked to search his backpack containing an MP3 player and three video games, all of which he hadn't paid for. After almost three months of successful shoplifting, Matt had stolen about 40 MP3 players and numerous video games and sold them to teens and game stores. After getting away with stealing for so long without any run-ins with the law, Matt never worried about getting caught. "I was too successful," he says. "It kind of got to my head."

But all he could think about that day, as he sat handcuffed in the back of the police car, was the price he would pay for breaking the law. "I just saw my whole future passing by me," he says.

According to Dr. Erica Edelman, a psychologist for MCPS, Matt's feelings are shared by many teenagers going to a juvenile detention facility for the first time. They are often shocked by the reality of jail and the prospect of being incarcerated, she says.

Family matters

Matt worried, not only about his future, but also about the reaction of his family. "At the time, I didn't care about jail itself as much as I did about my mother," he says. Matt, who had a spotless record until then, expected the worst. When he returned home, he was met by a sorely disappointed mother and what would be the end of his social life. That day, Matt lost both his mother's trust and his social freedom.

Michael, a junior, has also caused his family pain after spending a total of eight and-a-half months over the past year behind bars. After being admitted in August of last year for drug charges and violation of a curfew while on probation, he reentered the juvenile detention facility for an additional three-and-a-half months this summer. He not only broke his curfew for the second time, but also refused to comply with his rehabilitation program's rules, which included attending a youth center, counseling and agreeing to drug therapy and periodic drug tests.

Though he spent almost half a year behind bars for his first offense, Michael left the detention facility last year indifferent to the possibility of more jail time or boot camp. "He didn't care what happened, he just wanted to have fun," says his sister, Sarah, a 2005 Blair graduate. "If he got caught, he got caught."

Michael did not consider how his actions would affect his family. Whether or not he realized it, his crimes greatly injured the people who cared for him most, his sister explains. "It hurt," says Sarah. "We weren't a complete family anymore."

As a result, Sarah's grades started slipping and her family grew distant. Constantly distracted with thoughts of her brother, Sarah often found it difficult to concentrate on schoolwork, especially when her brother's incarceration continued over the holidays. Even after the obvious pain his family suffered, Michael was incarcerated again only months later. But when he returned in September of this year, he gave them hope. Now, he works part time at a restaurant and is trying harder in school.

Lamar Davis, director of the Choice Program, a program keeping teens out of the juvenile detention facility and helping teens once they leave, feels that the negative environment that the juvenile left does not help him change when he returns. "Returning to the same environment and expecting different results without having anybody there to really change the situation and be supportive is difficult," he says.

Second chances

Though Christopher's time in the detention facility was only an overnight stay, even one day behind bars can have its effects. Since that night, he has learned to control his temper and refrain from fighting. Although he will put up his fists if provoked, he no longer fights for minor incidents. "You will get slumped if you step in my face or try to attack me," he warns. "But I don't fight people over stupid stuff anymore."

Matt, however, escaped time in a detention facility due to the kindness of the police officer who arrested him. As he looked at the floor of the police car in shame, he glanced up and stared in disbelief as the car drove past the police station and toward his home. "I'm giving you a second chance," explained the officer. "I'm letting you off this one time. But if you do anything as much as jaywalk, I will lock you up," he warned.

But the words that stood out most that evening were the officer's last as Matt stepped out of the car parked in front of his house. "He said, `Don't throw away your life for stupid things like that. Once you're in the system, it's hard to get out,'" Matt says.

Once a juvenile has committed a crime, he starts a criminal record. Though, as a juvenile, this record is closed to everyone but the police and workers of the juvenile detention facility, the teenager becomes a registered criminal, considered highly likely to commit other crimes in the future. According to Edelman, the first offense "puts a black mark on the record."

Knowing this, Matt hasn't even thought about stealing since.