Dear Editor:
I want to tell you how much I enjoyed my all-too-brief attendance at the VJJA conference. The speaker I heard on adolescent neural development was informative and entertaining. I especially liked his map of the teenage brain.
Most importantly, it was extremely heartening to me to see so many idealistic, intelligent, hard-working people passionately dedicated to helping young people. My job is easy, with a good paycheck, and title; but you in the VJJA and related service providers are the ones who roll up your sleeves and do the real work everyday. And you accomplish all this under trying circumstances with few resources to make a disadvantaged youth's life a little better.
Thank you at the VJJA for all that you do. You have my gratitude and admiration.
Sincerely,
Paul A. Tucker
Chief Judge
25th District J&DR Court
Dear Editor:
You and I disagree strongly on gun control, hunting, smoking, the recreational uses of alcohol, and the aesthetic value of facial hair. But two things I envy and admire you for are your writing talent, and your willingness to spark much-needed dialogue (and fill a few otherwise empty newsletter pages?) by occasionally kicking us out of our comfort zones with a controversial Advocate item.
I’m referring, of course, to Summer 2007’s “The Dangers of Detention,” and the heated rejoinders in the Fall issue. While agreeing wholeheartedly with the issue-related responses (Virginia’s juvenile detention system is vastly superior to most others and getting even better), the personal offense and moral indignation expressed in two of the letters deserve a counterpoint of their own.
As I once heard a juvenile court judge say, “I don’t know of many things that stir controversy, frustration and emotions more than what to do about a delinquent kid.” Part of the fallout is broad-brush assumptions, political philosophy, homespun dogma, idealism and pseudo-science shoved in our faces by the powers that be and “experts.” It can take many forms, some more direct than ink on paper.
I can laugh now about experiences in the latter category that once gave me heartburn. For example, the bleeding-heart DJJ Director who held a statewide meeting under the Hanover picnic shelter in the 90+ temperature and humidity of a July day. He began the meeting with, “As you sit here for the next few hours, think about the kids in the cottages without air conditioning.” We wondered if a new treatment method modeled after American Indian sweat lodges was being piloted, until distracted by a corpulent Central Officer staffer, sweating profusely and turning a deeper shade of red every 15 minutes. Many eye messages of “CPR? Not me!” were exchanged among the group. Thankfully everyone left the meeting alive; some of us for the nearest air-conditioned bar.
Then there was the well-paid detention administrator who developed a gig as an “expert” before the Crime Commission, JLARC, and DCJS committees, and anyone else gullible enough to listen. His hook was labeling detention the “drip-pan of the juvenile justice system;” contending that all detained children belonged instead in psychiatric hospitals or residential treatment facilities. It was a thinly-veiled poke in the eye of judges and probation officers for not making that happen. Curiously, and in spite of the stated contempt for his workplace, he never left detention before retiring.
Finally, I once worked for a judge (since promoted and retired) who contended that “being tough” was the one-size-fits-all treatment modality, and none of us PO’s was “tough enough” on our youth. When a couple of us summonsed the courage to point out the quickly-reached limits and negative consequences of that approach, he replied, “When you’re out there in neighborhoods, homes, and schools, you should be doing exactly what I would do in your place.” At that we pursed our lips, shrugged our shoulders and shut up.
I could go on, but my point is simple: broad and nitpicking criticism, second-guessing, generalizations and potshots come with the entire juvenile justice turf. Coping with it is an essential survival skill. As one who used to “take it personally” and was my own worst enemy by doing so, I encourage those who want to do their jobs well, enjoy their work and “have a life” to develop that ability, which probably comes under the category of “Emotional Intelligence.” Our very juvenile justice system depends on it as an enabling resource. If we take offense easily, withdraw into our silos and refuse to communicate meaningfully, we no longer have a “system.” Instead, we become a series of disconnected entities spending more energy on finger-pointing than helping kids.
And why the heck would you want to quit VJJA? The Fall Advocate had 3 ½ pages of valuable information on detention programming in Virginia, prompted by July’s half-page entry (You’re a sly fox, Gary!). As a one-time newsletter editor myself, bet that wouldn’t have happened if you had said, “How about somebody writing a current update on what’s going on and in the works for juvenile detention?”
To quote a line from one of my favorite Pink Floyd songs, “We need to keep talking.”
Bill Harrell
Director, 5th District CSU
Send Letters to the Editor to: advocateeditor@vjja.org
