Inside the center: Curse words earn a detention stay

On a sunny morning one week ago a small, freckle-faced boy was taken from his school in handcuffs and brought to the Terrebonne Parish Juvenile Detention Center. Sitting in a small holding area behind a steel door with a narrow glass window, he was addressed by the man in charge.

“What is your charge?” the man in charge asked.

“Cussing, interfering with school,” the 14-year-old boy replied.

As protocol requires, the boy was interviewed by an intake worker, who accessed what prior history he had, and the booking process at Terrebonne’s jail for kids began.

The actual criminal charges were disturbing the peace by offensive language — a misdemeanor — and interfering with the educational process, classified as a felony but attached to misdemeanor penalties. It is the charge, law enforcement officials say, that a school resource officer generally uses when he wants to book someone into the detention center rather than use other options.

According to police reports the boy had refused to remove the hood of his jersey from his head when told to do so by a teacher. When brought to the school office he was loud and indeed use offensive language. He was then brought to the office of the school resource officer, who made the decision to have him sent to the detention center on Government Drive in Gray.

The boy is among hundreds of children accused of non-violent crimes like cursing, or misdemeanors like simple battery and disturbing the peace by fighting, who have walked through the detention center doors this year. A unified chorus of advice from respected researchers and experts holds that exposure to detention is harmful to children brought there for non-violent or less-serious offenses, and to the community at large. But the most influential officials shaping Terrebonne Parish’s juvenile system persist in practices that increase the likelihood of locking up children for petty offenses, and potential for negative outcomes.

Hundreds of similar centers around the country use an objective scoring tool to determine whether a child like this should remain in detention or be released to parents with a court date. But in Terrebonne Parish where a pre-set bond schedule authorized by City Court Judge Matt Hagen is used, detention staff play no role in the decision-making process, even when no court has ordered that a child be held.

After the interview with intake the boy was escorted to a medical office, where a health screen was performed. Medical history was taken down. He was also required to urinate into a cup, for a drug screen. The results will determine whether a bond — if set — will be what it is on Hagen’s list or be doubled.

The $10.3 million center, which began accepting children this year, consists of four modules, each with eight single cells — rooms with solid doors and narrow windows — and their own day areas. Each module has a single shower with a door that closes, the fixtures including push button shower controls designed to thwart any attempt to harm the self. The inmate-staff ratio is eight to one. Immaculate, broad hallways lead to the modules and to fully-equipped classrooms. There is a small dining room beside the sparkling institutional kitchen where fresh meals are cooked. At the old center, youth were served the same meals that were distributed at the parish jail.

The emphasis is on humane, courteous and dignified treatment of children, says director Joseph Harris.

“We are providing a public service,” Harris said. “We provide services to our juveniles within our own community, a positive social service agency. While detention may be associated with a negative experience, all of our positive interactions are based on achieving a better juvenile for a better community with a positive future.”

While all indications are that Harris delivers what he says, inescapable is the knowledge that the detention center is still a jail for children. Harris does not create the policies under which children are fed into his center, although some advocates said he does have the power to refuse children brought in because of a police officer’s act of fiat.

That requires an assessment tool, a list of questions to be asked of an in-coming child. Each answer results in a digital score. Score below a 15 in one such test results in a recognizance bond. A charge that is considered serious and violent usually pushes the score to 15 or above by default.

The boy with the hoodie problem had his hair shorn by a staff member. It is a throwback to a time when administrators were concerned because hairstyles signified certain gang memberships. Years ago they said it was to prevent lice. But the shearing is only done to boys. Child welfare experts said that the haircuts are a form of labeling, and not healthy for kids. Harris said last week that the practice in under review.

For the boy being admitted the next step was a trip to the shower. There is one shower room in each module. His clothes were handed over to a staff member who searched them. The street clothing was then folded. It would be laundered and folded, ready for him to retrieve when his time in the detention center is done.

The boy showers, and is given center-issued clothing that he will wear for his stay. A staff member takes him to his assigned room. It is small, with a window way up top out of reach that allow daylight in. There is a plastic bed against a wall, a plastic table or desk of sorts attached to the wall, and a stainless steel toilet.

During his time in detention the boy will sit in a classroom, with a small number of other boys, a teacher and a security staff member. There is also a gym where spirited games of basketball are played.

Child advocates say a child like this — although perhaps obnoxious, perhaps ill-behaved — should not be in such a place because his actions are not really criminal. An adult would not be kept in a jail under the same circumstances, they maintain. It is difficult to see why a child should be treated more harshly.

Detention settings are seen as breeding grounds for escalated bad behavior.

On the day this boy arrived the other inmates included a 16-year-old charged with attempted murder, a 16-year-old rapist and two other teen sex offenders. There also was an uncontrollable 12-year-old and several other children — 17 in all — charged with offenses ranging from simple battery to resisting arrest.

The boy spent the night in his room there and in the morning was brought to Houma City Court, manacled with other children. There, in a quiet courtroom, Judge Hagen reviewed his file. A bond was set at $1000. Nearly a week later the boy was still at the center, awaiting his next court date or a bond posted by a parent.

Among the experts who say detention for a child with behavior issues using curse words makes no sense is Bart Lubow, a juvenile justice consultant now in Lake Charles, who helped build programs and protocols now used throughout the country that statistics show get results, that do not involved locking up children like this. He is considered one of the nation’s foremost experts on detention alternatives.

He has heard of the officials in Terrebonne saying that revamping how detention is used, reclogging children rather than jailing them whenever possible, won’t work because this is a “conservative community.”

“I have worked in crim justice for the past 45 years,” he bristled. “Whether it’s Terrebonne Parish or the Bronx, people say they are a conservative jurisdiction. But old and ineffective ideas continue to be at the practices like shaving kids’ heads. It comes down to adults wanted to bully kids. They are using all this power over the most powerless in our communities. Who but 13, 14 and 15 year olds are that powerless and subject to this?”

Matthew Hagan