Court

Juvenile court is shockingly informal. People come in and out of the courtroom at will and huddles of people are everywhere...in the corners, the doorway, the pews. I'm usually part of those huddles, consulting the adolescent on what is happening, what the judge will be looking for, how the attorney will bargain...the guardian ad litem (the court appointed legal advocate for the youth), the caseworker, and the defense attorney usually do all the speaking. I sit back since the court is their arena for progress and the home is mine. At the very least, I try to say something strengths-based to the family; listening to the "professional team" as they point their fingers at all the changes that haven't been made gets old.

Anyways, the courtroom is loud and chaotic, nervous energy emanates from kids and parents. I understand that energy, I feel it for my clients sometimes. Will they been taken away to detention? Will the judge order work weekends, community service, question the youth's safety in the home? Sometimes you see the defiant teen, more concerned with their style than their charges. Sometimes there's the tired parent, almost hoping the court system will make their lives easier by enforcing a harsh consequence on their child. On some levels I understand where they are coming from and on another, I am a complete stranger.

As people come and go and talk in huddles, a trial or court review is always happening, too. When I first started going, I wanted to listen to all the stories and study the expressions of the kids and parents as they faced the magistrate...now I've accepted the fact that it is too noisy to understand much and it isn't really my business. I don't know if I'd want everyone hearing about what I did and/or why I can't just shape up.

I always get a pang of pity when the kids from detention show up...they wear green jump suits and their wrists and ankles are in shackles. No make up, hair products, fancy shoes, jewelry...none of the embellishments that the rest of the adolescents in the courtroom thrive on. They are led in by a police officer and told to sit on the benches to the side of the magistrate, removed from everyone else. The police officer remains by their side, just in case. Whether they look terrified, resigned, angry...they all look so young. Babies, really. Their immaturity gets me every time; I find myself always wondering how much responsibility they should be forced to take for their crimes. There's something depressing, chilling, and horrifying about seeing a child locked up.

I know I'm the bleeding heart, giving everyone the benefit of the doubt. That's why I do what I do, I get to be one that points out what they do well, listen to their goals, look for exceptions. It is flawed, I know. People hide things, history repeats itself, and you can't force change, even though the courts mandate it. My couple hours in juvenile court every now and again make me proud to be the court appointed optimist.