Wisconsin Lawyer
Vol. 75, No. 8, August 2002

Justice, Teen Style

• Teen/Youth Court Programs in Wisconsin

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

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."

Wisconsin Lawyer