Wisconsin Lawyer
Vol. 75, No. 8, August
2002
Justice, Teen Style
Wisconsin's 30-plus teen courts give new meaning to the term "peer
pressure" in dealing with juveniles who commit minor offenses. Do teens
- be they defendants or the ones administering justice - take the
proceedings and the results seriously? Read what teen court
participants, from judges to coordinators to the teens themselves, have
to say.
by Dianne Molvig
Iowa County teenager Justin Hook probably never will forget how he
felt when he made his first - and he swears his last - appearance as a
defendant in court two years ago when he was 14. "I was scared, nervous,
anything you can be," he recalls.
But it wasn't a stern, black-robed adult authority figure that made
him feel so intimidated that evening. In fact, no such person was in the
courtroom. Hook's appearance was before the Iowa County Teen Court, and
most of the people there were teenagers, fulfilling the roles of
bailiff, clerk, defense attorney, prosecuting attorney, and jurors.
"There are so many kids watching you," notes Hook, remembering what it
felt like to be a defendant. "You don't like reliving (the offense) in
front of everybody. It puts you on the spot."
That's exactly where Hook landed after he stole cigarettes from a
local store. After his half-hour court hearing, during which the
attorneys questioned him and his parents, followed by jury
deliberations, the jury foreperson announced Hook's sentence: 20 hours
of community service, six jury terms on teen court, and writing an
apology to the store owner.
Hook long ago completed his sentence. But before he even finished it,
he requested to become a teen court volunteer. These days you'll often
find him at hearings acting as one of the attorneys. "There's just
something about this," he explains. "It seems so real. I'll keep doing
this until I'm not around in the area anymore."
Justin's father, Lance Hook, a mechanic, also became involved as a
volunteer and now serves as an adult monitor at hearings. He admits that
initially he had doubts about teen court, suspecting that Justin's
sentence would be too lenient. As it turned out, he was pleased with the
jury's decision and later signed on to volunteer along with his son
because, he says, "I was impressed by the way these kids handled
themselves in the courtroom."
Still, some adults remain unconvinced of the effectiveness of teen
courts, also known as peer courts or youth courts. Do teens - be they
defendants or the ones administering justice - take the proceedings and
the results seriously? Or do they merely view it as a charade of
justice, an easy out for breaking the law?
To the skeptics, "I'd say just one thing," responds Justin Hook.
"Come and watch us."
At a Location Near You
About 30 Wisconsin municipalities and counties now have teen courts,
according to Nancy Livingston, president of the Wisconsin Teen Court
Association. That's a rough number, she explains, as there may be teen
courts she's unaware of because they're not association members. The
group supports existing teen courts and assists communities wanting to
start one. "The main deciding factor in establishing a teen court,"
Livingston says, "is that it has to have approval from the judge or
judges."
Winnebago County circuit court judge Bruce Schmidt led the way in
launching Wisconsin's first teen court in 1996. He'd heard about good
results in other states (about 800 teen courts now exist nationwide),
and he was intrigued by the notion that teen courts could be a more
effective way to deal with juveniles who commit minor offenses.
"Much of what teens do is to impress their peer group," Schmidt
points out. "But if their peers tell them they're not impressed, that
has much more of an impact than hearing the same message from
adults."
The teen court concept held appeal for Schmidt for another reason as
well. All those involved, whether volunteers or defendants, would get "a
kind of civics lesson," he says. "This shows them how the legal system
operates."
After changes in the state's juvenile law spelled out provisions for
teen courts, Schmidt gathered together community leaders in his county
to get the program rolling and solicit grant money. While the state
statute allows for teen courts, it provides no state funding.
Communities are on their own to find the necessary dollars.
A year later, in 1997, Iowa County set up
the second teen court in the state, initiated by circuit court judge
William Dyke. He sparked community support and then assigned the project
to his summer intern, Jeremy Gill, then a U.W. Law School student and
now a practitioner in Manitowoc. "I had laid the groundwork," Dyke
notes, "and Jeremy took it and ran with it."
Since then, teen courts have grown rapidly in number, with some 30
additional courts emerging in Wisconsin communities over the last five
years. They display some common features, following guidelines laid out
in the state statute. Juveniles appearing in teen court are first-time
offenders who have committed nonviolent misdemeanors. They must plead
guilty to the offense, as teen courts do not conduct trials to determine
guilt but rather focus on determining what the consequences should be.
If offenders complete their sentence, the citation disappears from their
record. If they fail to comply or commit another offense, they
automatically end up in regular juvenile court, where they'll face a
judge's decision about appropriate punishment.
Variations on a Theme
Beyond those common basics, teen courts across the state vary in
numerous ways in what they do and how they do it. Some, for instance,
focus on offenders in the 12-to-17 age bracket, while others also
include 10 and 11 year olds. Brown County has two courts, a teen court
for that age group, plus a youth court for offenders as young as 8.
Individual courts also choose what types of offenses they'll handle.
Shoplifting, petty theft, underage smoking, truancy, disorderly conduct,
trespassing, criminal damage to property, receiving or concealing stolen
property, curfew violations, and obstruction of justice are among the
offenses commonly steered to teen courts. Some teen courts accept cases
involving underage drinking, possession of marijuana, possession of drug
paraphernalia, traffic violations, or Department of Natural Resources
offenses, such as hunting out of season or damaging campsites.
Courts also differ in what niche they occupy within the system and
where they get their funding. In Vilas County, for example, directing
the teen court program is just one part of Livingston's job as a
UW-Extension youth development agent. Other counties hire a teen court
coordinator as a county employee, thus supporting the court out of the
county budget. Other teen courts get their funds entirely from grant
money, or in some cases from a mix of grants and local government
support, and even sometimes private contributions. Some programs have
used grants to get started, as was the case in Iowa and Winnebago
counties, and then later, with a proven track record, have won county or
municipal government funding.
Another key difference among teen courts is the model they use to
operate, which could be a panel model, a jury model, or a blend of the
two. As one example, in Vilas County offenders appear before a panel of
four high school students who question the defendant and then decide on
the sentence.
Waupaca County, on the other hand, uses a teen panel for questioning
the defendant, but then the panel and a teen jury, made up of previous
offenders, decide on the sentence. In Winnebago and Iowa counties, the
questioning is handled by two teens acting as defense and prosecuting
attorneys, and a teen jury determines the sentence, while an adult
volunteer judge sits on the bench and presides over the hearing. Barron
County blends these approaches. If the case involves two or more
respondents, they appear before a panel of four or five teens for
questioning. In cases with one respondent, two teen attorneys ask
questions. Either way, an adult volunteer judge presides and a teen jury
determines the sentence.
Teen to Teen
No matter which of these formats the proceedings may follow, a common
thread runs through all teen courts: Teens are in charge. After all,
that's the whole point. Teen offenders are called on the carpet in front
of other teens, at which time they must explain their misdeeds and face
up to what their peers think would be appropriate consequences.
Teens are adept at getting to the bottom of things, points out
Livingston. Defendants "can't pull the wool over the eyes of their
peers," she notes, "because they'll come right back and ask, `What are
you saying?' Adults often don't get through that way." Livingston
provides two full days of training each year to help volunteers polish
their questioning and listening skills.
Even in courts having an adult volunteer judge, the hearing is
largely in the teens' hands. Sometimes these judges are local attorneys
or they work in law enforcement; sometimes they're neither. Shari
Steinbruner co-owns an Oshkosh heating and air conditioning business
with her husband and has been volunteering as a judge for Winnebago
County Teen Court for about a year. She sees her role mostly as making
sure the questioning during the hearing stays on track. "But I prefer to
leave (the proceedings) up to the teens themselves," she says. "We're
giving them a lot of responsibility. I think when adults let kids have
that responsibility, they produce."
Questioning during a typical teen court hearing probes into more than
just the facts of the offense. Teens ask defendants about their
interests, grades, what they do in their free time, who their friends
are, and so on. All this helps the panel or jury to get to know the teen
and to devise a fitting sentence. Usually they'll also question the
defendant's parents.
Judges who handle regular juvenile cases often wish they had that
kind of time. Instead of the half-hour usually allotted to a teen court
hearing, judges with crammed court dockets can devote only a few minutes
to a juvenile who's committed a minor offense. They assess a fine or
suspend a license and move on to the next case.
"When we're dealing with everything up to homicides in our
courtrooms," points out Vilas County circuit court judge James Mohr, "a
lot of judges in dealing with minor matters want to see them be done and
go away. Peer courts can pay more attention to the juvenile and the
parents. And from my experience, the teen court dispositions are more
onerous than the regular court's."
Combinations of community service, teen court jury terms, and essays
or letters of apology are typical sentences. Special classes aimed at
smokers, drug users, or shoplifters may be required, if such resources
are available locally. Barron County's Teen Court, which is funded by a
restorative justice grant, adds victim-offender conferencing to its
dispositions. It also requires offenders and their parents to attend a
workshop aimed at improving family interactions. A local teacher created
a job skills seminar, attendance at which the jury may include in a
sentence if it thinks the offender has too much time on his or her hands
and could benefit from employment.
Whatever sentences may emerge out of different teen courts for
different cases, the prime focus is not on punishment. Rather, "it's
about looking at the individual and coming up with constructive
sanctions that will help him or her head in a different direction," says
Connie Doyle, director of the Barron County Restorative Justice
Programs, including teen court. "The teens are so good at handing out
appropriate sanctions. They know how teens think and feel."
After the Trial
Vilas County Teen Court Panel members for 2001 included: (from left)
Mike Blakely, Chado DeYoung, Leah Benson, and Kristina Congelton.
DeYoung was homeschooled; the others attended Northland Pines High
School, Eagle River. Congelton remains on the panel for 2002.
From the outset, teens know that they must fulfill their sentence
obligations within the prescribed time frame, or they'll be kicked from
teen court into the regular court system. And they'll lose their chance
to clear their record. Coordinators say they adhere strictly to such
consequences. "We never want kids to think this is an easy out,"
emphasizes Shirley Zahn, Winnebago County teen court coordinator. "We
don't want that reputation out there."
But what has surprised coordinators is how many teens want to stay
involved even after they've served their sentences. Some continue
performing community service beyond their required hours. Some sign up
as teen court volunteers. "Some of my volunteers are those typical kids
who are into everything," Zahn notes. "But others aren't into sports and
all the clubs at school. They've found their niche here in teen
court."
Coordinators say this continued involvement is a valuable, if
unexpected, bonus of teen court programs. When teens feel they have
something to offer and that they're a part of the community, they're
much less likely to commit another offense.
Iowa County's teen court program has an additional element that
builds a sense of belonging. After each teen court hearing, all the
teens go out for pizza together. Defendants are invited to join in and
usually do. "It's amazing when you see them out together afterwards,"
says Marcia Richgels, teen court and community service director,
"because the other kids don't treat (the defendants) any differently.
They're not judgmental at all."
Fifteen-year-old Brittany Zoha, a former defendant now in training to
be a volunteer teen attorney, sees the pizza gathering as not only fun,
"but we get to know each other better," she says. "When you talk
socially, you get more comfortable. And that helps us speak our minds
more" when working together on teen court matters.
But even pizza is a luxury on teen court budgets. Richgels operates
her program on less than $40,000 a year from the county. The only reason
she can afford pizza is because she also gets a small grant from the
Wisconsin State Journal Youth Services Program.
All of Wisconsin's teen courts run on slim budgets. Weighing in with
one of the larger budgets is Waupaca County, which has an annual budget
of $65,000, completely funded by grants. The reason for the higher
amount is that Waupaca County's teen court has two full-time employees -
teen court coordinator Amy Goerlinger and youth advocate Celeste Leider.
The latter's job is to keep teens on track after the trial, making sure
they fulfill their community service, checking on how they're doing in
school, and so forth.
But while that extra position adds to costs, it seems to pay off. In
Waupaca County, 94 percent of teen offenders successfully complete their
sentences and don't commit new offenses - one of the best success rates
in the state. "I'm glad we're that first step," Goerlinger says,
"because prior to teen court, teens were offending several times before
any referral was made to a social service agency. We're keeping kids
from coming back into the system, and that saves a lot of money."
Consider, for instance, that keeping one teen in Lincoln Hills School, a
juvenile corrections facility, for one year costs $61,000.
Overall, the state's teen courts had a recidivism rate of 10 percent
as of the end of 2001, according to the Wisconsin Teen Court
Association. How does that compare to recidivism among first-time,
nonviolent teen offenders who go through the regular court system?
That's difficult to answer. The state keeps no such statistics, and
other hard data are sparse.
Earlier this year, the Washington, D.C.-based Urban Institute
published a study comparing six-month recidivism rates for teen courts
and regular courts in four jurisdictions, one each in Alaska, Arizona,
Maryland, and Missouri (see http://jbutts.com/projects/teencourts.htm).
The study found that at two of those sites, the teen court youth had
significantly lower rates of recidivism than the comparison groups. In
Alaska, the teen court youth reoffended at a rate of 6 percent, compared
to 23 percent for those who'd been through regular court. In Missouri,
the respective rates were 9 percent and 28 percent. At the remaining two
sites, differences were not statistically significant. Interestingly,
the Alaska and Missouri teen courts were the ones that gave youth the
most responsibility in conducting the hearings. The study states:
"These findings indicate that teen court may be preferable to the
normal juvenile justice process in jurisdictions that do not, or cannot,
provide meaningful sanctions for all young, first-time juvenile
offenders. In jurisdictions that do provide meaningful sanctions and
services for these offenders, teen court may perform just as well as a
more traditional, adult-run program. Moreover, the fact that teen courts
operate with largely volunteer labor and very low budgets suggests that
they may be a particularly cost-effective alternative for some juvenile
offenders."
The report also notes that recidivism is only one measure of teen
courts' benefits. Teens also learn new skills, get involved in something
that matters to them, and contribute hundreds of hours of labor that
benefit their communities. Usually, however, recidivism is what matters
most to the policymakers. But as Richgels notes, "My concerns don't rest
with my numbers. To me, that's not as important as giving a kid a
chance."
Kids like Justin Hook, who has no doubts that teen court helped him
turn around. Without it, he says, "I'd probably still be making trouble.
But this straightened me out. I see people in trouble (as a teen court
volunteer), and it's like, man, I really don't want to do that again. I
know the next time I'd have to go through the regular court system.
That's permanently imbedded in my brain. I won't have a second chance.
So, yeah, I can have fun and not get into serious trouble. I choose to
do that."
Dianne Molvig
operates Access Information Service, a Madison research, writing, and
editing service. She is a frequent contributor to area publications.
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