IN YOUTH COURT, EVERYONE'S A TEENAGER
A judicial hearing where young judges, prosecutors & defense lawyers mete out justice to teens
The teenaged boy had a mop of unruly hair and he wore the distracted, uncomfortable expression of, well, a teenager. He looked nervous as he sat in front of the unblinking gaze of the computer camera lens, listening to a recitation of the details of the minor offense he had committed.
Also on the Zoom conference call were the other participants. Judge. Jurors. The boy's two defense attorneys. The prosecutor. All of them, like John (not his real name). All of them were teenagers.
Volunteer training (credit: Connie Jones-Hairston)
Welcome to Youth Court in White Plains, New York, a city about 30 miles north of Manhattan, where the judicial proceeding for a young person (aged of 12 and 17) is decided entirely by young people (aged 14 to 17). To be clear, it's not a trial to determine guilt or innocence. To be eligible, the accused must have already admitted guilt. The tribunal is to decide the sentence in the form of community service and counseling. The session I observed was held virtually because of a Covid case that prevented it from taking place in person in an actual courtroom.
In the past two years, the annual caseload has nearly doubled to around 45. All of the cases are low-level criminal offenses, such as vandalism or fighting, that are referred to Youth Court by schools, police, probation officials and prosecutors.
Volunteer training session (Credit: Connie Jones-Hairston)
Don't be fooled by the ages of the participants. The young people involved -- all of them volunteers -- are serious about what they’re doing, so much so that the proceedings bear a startling resemblance to an adult hearing. The sentences they impose are real. These is not mock court.
"We take it seriously," says Connie Jones-Hairston, who supervises the proceedings. She also trains the young people how to carry out their responsibilities. "The kids really feel that they're little lawyers. They enjoy what they do. It's really an amazing experience."
Connie Jones-Hairston
The prosecutor in the case I saw was a bespectacled African-American girl. She was grim-faced and stern, all about the business at hand. I think even I would have been a little intimidated by her prosecutorial zeal.
"It is common knowledge that [the offense, which I cannot detail because of privacy restrictions] is unjust and unlawful," she said in her opening statement. She called for John to be sentenced to 20 hours of community of service and 12 counseling sessions.
One of John's defense lawyers countered. "There is so much more to the story," he said. "I urge you to keep an open mind. This incident was not pre planned but rather an impulsive action which he extremely regrets and vows never to repeat." A more appropriate sentence, he argued, would be 15 hours of community of service and 10 counseling sessions.
Jones-Hairston, the Youth Court Program Director, has spent seven-plus years with the White Plains Youth Bureau and, before that, 22 years in law and legal enforcement with the U.S. Justice Department. In 2015, Jones resurrected the White Plains Youth Court.
"What drew me to work in the juvenile justice system was observing a 19-year-old going to jail for 25 years for a drug offense," she said. "A child's brain is still developing even at 19. Sometimes, the youth is not aware of the consequences of their actions. I wanted to do something and that meant taking action. I came to the White Plains Youth Bureau. I decided I want to be the change I (want to) see in the world by helping young people and giving them a second chance. The mission of Youth Court is restorative justice, assisting (them) in making up for the harm they have caused and taking responsibility. But not letting this one incident affect them for the rest of their lives."
Volunteer training session (credit: Connie Jones-Hairston)
The theory behind youth court is that young people accused of a minor offense are more likely to change their behavior if they are literally judged by their peers, not adults.
"They tend to have a higher regard for people who look like them, who live in their neighborhood and go to school with them," said Frank Williams, Executive Director of the White Plains Youth Bureau.
"They tend to have a higher level of respect and responsiveness to their friends and their own youth members because they don't want to let their peers down. They really want to rise from whatever issues they're facing. They want to have a level of respect from their own peers and know that their peers are believing in and hoping that they will go on and do well."
The results in White Plains are remarkable. Jones-Hairston says no one young person who has gone through the Youth Court system has reoffended. Elsewhere, the outcomes are mixed.
The Urban Institute did a study of teen courts in 2002 (yes, it's not new) to see if it really is effective in reducing recidivism. One of its challenges was that there are hundreds of systems and a wide range of how they were set up and run. Some had adults involved in the proceedings. Some did not. Some a mix. Some were formal. Some were informal. There were disparities in the sanctions they could impose.
The Evaluation of Teen Courts Project looked at four systems -- Arizona, Alaska, Maryland and Missouri -- to compare recidivism outcomes between teen courts and regular juvenile courts. They looked at the six month period post-sentencing.
In Alaska, 6 percent of young people who'd gone through teen court re-offended within six months compared to 23 percent who'd gone through juvenile court. In Missouri, 9 percent who'd gone through teen court reoffended compared to 28 percent who'd gone through juvenile court.
But in Arizona, 9 percent of the teen court defendants reoffended within six months compared to 15 percent who had gone through juvenile court (the study said that difference was statistically insignificant). In Maryland, it found that 8 percent of young people who had been in teen court reoffended within half a year. Only four percent who had been in regular juvenile court reoffended.
Youth court advocates say an important benefit is that it spares young people the criminal record that comes with a juvenile court conviction that can follow them through the rest of their lives. If you go through teen court, you don't get a criminal record.
"The whole idea is to not get a record," Jones-Hairston told me. "The case will be sealed and closed with no record. That's the purpose."
Some states do expunge or seal those records once the child is 18. But some do not. And some that do require the young person to petition to do so and many of the ex-offenders aren't aware of that or just don't do it.
"Youth with juvenile records frequently experience collateral consequences of their arrest or adjudication, which may include difficulty accessing educational services, obtaining employment, serving in the military and finding and maintaining housing," said Caren Harp, administrator of the U.S. Department of Justice's Office of Juvenile Justice and Delinquency Prevention in a 2020 report, Expunging Juvenile Records: Misconceptions, Collateral Consequences, and Emerging Practices.
A criminal conviction as a child can change a young person's life before they've even really begun to live it.
"Arresting (and convicting) children is not a strategy to help young people turn their lives around," said Frank Williams. "One way to redirect them is through the youth court system."
Frank Williams, Executive Director, White Plains Youth Bureau
At the Youth Court session I watched, "John" was eventually called to testify.
Speaking hesitantly in a dull monotone, he was gently questioned by one of his defense lawyers.
Defense lawyer: "Did you plan this beforehand?"
John: "No.”
Defense: "Impulse decision?"
John: "Yes."
Defense: "How did you feel the moment you were arrested?"
John: "I knew what I did was wrong. I didn’t mean to do it."
Defense: "Have you ever been in trouble before?"
John: "No."
Defense: "Would you do this again if you knew you wouldn't get caught?"
John: "No."
Defense: "Did you receive any punishment at home?"
John: "My phone was taken away and I had to be back right after school. I couldn't go out."
Defense: "How did that make you feel?"
John: "I kind of deserved it. It was an impulsive decision but my actions have consequences."
The jurors did not deliberate long, less than five minutes. They sentenced John to the 20 hours of community service and 12 counseling sessions the prosecution had recommended, and ordered him to submit an essay to the Youth Court "explaining your actions.” He was also required to apologize to his parents in open court, and did so. Justice had been served — in the form of a second chance.
Cover photo: Volunteer training (Credit: Connie Jones-Hairston)
I love this story. There are people out there who know how to create positive change. No one should have to live with a mistake that defines them for the rest of their lives. All of society suffers as a result.
Thank you. This makes life better.
Very interesting. Had no idea this went on. Thanks for illuminating.