This report from JDAI News examines twenty-seven pieces of legislation between 2005 and 2010.  BRAVO!  Now where are the rest of the states?

Denial isn’t for sissies.  It takes tremendous effort to stay in that warm, fuzzy place where hope springs eternal and other people don’t know what they’re talking about.  It’s different for my child and here are the reasons why…

Sigh.

After the conversation ended, I told Ashley we needed to talk, make a plan and then implement it.  Why?  Because I could not let her stay in denial: That I would always be here to protect her and help her pick up the pieces.  That I would always be able to pay her bills so that she could continue her limited forays into the world.  That I was even willing to do that anymore.

Did she get it?  Yes, in her head. In her heart, not so much.  So we continue the conversation every day.  It’s loud sometimes and messy.  She is struggling as much with the changes in me as with the changes I am demanding from her.

Denial is an addiction.  Getting clean isn’t for sissies either.  It takes commitment, patience and understanding.  Like every other person in recovery I truly regret it took so long.

In essence crowdsourcing means that customers help organizations decide what the next product or service or improvement should be.  It’s a way of including the people who matter most – the folks who actually generate revenue.

I’m wondering how we can do that in the juvenile justice system.  Instead of being alone together let’s just be together.  Let’s crowdsource what  we know and feel to be true about our kids in the system and create change.

I’m ready!  Join me?

All true.  Still.

Yes I see what I woulda/coulda/shoulda done differently.  Not for my own sake but for Ashley’s.

I would have accepted that genetics and the bonding between a newborn and her birth mother matters.

I could have been less swayed by her conversational skills.  I thought she actually understood what we were saying.

I should have created more structure instead of winging her around the world on business trips and frequent vacations.  I thought it was more important she was with me.

But I have loved her unconditionally and as it turns out that is what Ashley is grateful for.  So I am too.

A Happy Mother’s Day indeed.

I am always amazed about stories I hear.  Just in general.

This story about an autistic teenager getting locked up is one of those stories.

Short version: Kid is seen sitting in an open grassy area near a school.  Might have a gun.  Area schools lock down for safety. Law enforcement is called.  Struggle ensues. Taken down.  Taken in.  Sentenced in a couple weeks.  No gun.

Sigh.

Here’s the other part of the story that amazes me.  It became a national story.  Holly Robinson Peete whose son is autistic brought it up on her television show.

Many young people with autism can’t read social cues, she said.  “They don’t know how to interact with authority. We need to make sure that law enforcement understands this, too,” she said.

That will not happen.  Law enforcement has one, and only one, responsibility.  That’s to prevent, stop or solve crimes.  We have to stop asking them to take on jobs that need to be done by mental health specialists, counselors and institutions.

In other words shall we spend $50,000 a year incarcerating someone who clearly doesn’t fully understand what is going on around them or should we spend $8500 on community services?

The other question.  Who will stand up for the kids who don’t have such socially acceptable problems like autism?  Why are the voices in the heads of schizophrenic, depressed or bipolar teens held more responsible?

Seriously.

I get choked up thinking about it.

These are children.  Their brains aren’t completely developed.  We all know that.  Why else are there laws against driving under the age of 16 or voting at 17 or drinking at 20?  We have decided as a society that people aren’t sufficiently mature to engage in those activities at least until then.

I understand that many of those kids were found guilty of crimes (the rest are being held until a hearing).  I get it.  I promise you I would have been faint with fear if I found any of them in my house or trying to steal the change out of my car or who knows what.

We weep over the ignorance of a girl who has a baby at 12 but believe she knows exactly what she is doing when involved in holding up a convenience store.  We shake our heads at violence in music, movies and games then feel shocked when teenagers internalize that violence and act on it.  We drink and smoke and have random sex as adults and are incredulous when our kids follow suit underage.

I have discovered that children are believed to understand when they have committed “horrific” crimes.   The ones that are headline news.  That no neighbor predicted.  Beyond the comprehension of friends.   God forbid it’s an election year.

We don’t expect them to fully comprehend the consequences of stealing a car or buying a dime bag of dope or bullying someone on the internet.

Sending them to adult prison doesn’t work.  The research is overwhelming.  We have to come up with a better way.

And for those who say “They’re criminals.  They deserve everything they get!” I say I hope you never have to face it.

Want to read more?

Parent Testimony        Less Youth Crime        Lowering The Age Of Responsibility

WTH?

According to the Children’s Defense Fund-Ohio

An Ohio official, quoted in the GAO reported, that  “[m]ost
youth with mental health concerns are housed here whether
appropriate or not as there are minimal mental health resources
provide by this state for them.”

Really?  We stick them in jail because there’s nowhere else for them to go? Can you imagine not being able to get the services your child so desperately needs because they aren’t available and they end up in jail?  Where they can’t get services because the justice system isn’t designed to manage mental health issues?

Unconscionable. Outrageous.  Destructive.  How do we call ourselves civilized?

Want to read more?

Rethinking Juvenile Detention In Ohio

National Center For Mental Health and Juvenile Justice

“Here, Mama!  We’re over here!”  She looks toward a group of people just as dressed up as she is.  They’re gathered in a small knot by Court Room 4.  A man in his fifties hurries over and hugs her.  He speaks quietly and she slowly shakes her head.

Her grandson, the man’s son, is being sentenced today for second degree murder.  He didn’t actually kill anyone but he was there and had some part in it.

“The lawyer couldn’t get him tried in juvenile court? He was only 17”, she says indignantly.

“Granny you know we tried.  He was too close to 18 and had been in too much trouble.  We gotta hope they’ll only give him 25 years.   He does good in there maybe he’ll get out early.”

The old woman  starts to weep softly.  “I don’t have that long.”

My heart squeezed hard.   Was that my future?  Would I dress up one day so the last time Ashley saw me outside the prison system she would remember I looked nice?  That maybe one more time the judge would see she had a nice family and this wasn’t the right decision? That prison for her might be a life sentence for me?

The doors open.  The family goes in.  Thank You God.  I don’t have to be here when they come out.

“No, but if he really held up a drug dealer he’s dead.  I didn’t want to say that in front of his Mom but they better find him fast.”

“He couldn’t be too street smart to do that.  Think he made it up just to tell his friends?”

“That would be just as stupid.  Drug dealers don’t play and they aren’t gonna put up with someone saying that.  That’s how they feed their families and pay their bills.  It’s their money and nobody’s taking it or pretending to.”

“It’s how they feed their families?!  Are you kidding me?”

“It’s their money and they pay for stuff for their kids and their kids mothers.  Anyway they have to pay someone else for the drugs.  They don’t want to get killed either!”

Drug dealers have families, bills and are concerned with their organization’s reputation.  In a warped, strange world it makes total sense.

Just kidding.

I usually got this within hours of some chaos like being twenty-four hours late coming back with the car or getting an in school suspension.  Ashley truly believed every day was a brand new start.  Or maybe she thought I believed that.  There is a danger to telling our kids they can turn their lives around right now in our desperation to convince them to stop hurting themselves.

Follow the logic.  I demand Ashley stop her destructive behavior.  She agrees because she wants the hassling to stop.  I am thankful and start saying nice things.  There is harmony for a while.  See Mom?  I can do it!

Within hours Ashley asks for the car, money or to let some bad news friends come over.  No.   “Mom! You have to start trusting me!  I’m doing what you said!”

Sigh.

Here’s the thing.  People don’t change unless there’s a reason.  Usually it doesn’t involve making your mother happy.