For four consecutive days last month, a group of Los Angeles County students was suspended after a fight broke out in their classroom inside a juvenile detention facility.

This is according to Stacy Nu帽ez, an education attorney representing one of the students, who said her client was among those suspended and questions why he was penalized before the facility called a meeting to discuss other behavioral interventions.

The Los Angeles County Office of Education can interrupt education services, even those legally required under an Individualized Education Program, if there is 鈥渁n immediate threat to the safety of youth or others,鈥� according to a  with . A second settlement with Los Angeles County, including its Probation Department, Department of Mental Health, and Department of Health Services, was also entered at the time.

But exactly how an 鈥渋mmediate threat鈥� is defined is unclear and appears to be 鈥渃ompletely discretionary,鈥� Nu帽ez said.

This lack of clarity on the legal settlement with the county education department, often referred to as LACOE, is just one of the reasons advocates say education access for detained youth must be prioritized in ongoing court hearings to decide whether L.A. County鈥檚 juvenile halls should be placed into a receivership.

Saying it is 鈥渢he only option left to ensure the safety and wellbeing of the youth currently in its care,鈥� California Attorney General Rob Bonta filed a request in July to grant full operational control of the county鈥檚 juvenile detention facilities to an appointed receiver. He also said the county is 鈥渟ubstantially compliant with just 25% of all requirements鈥� in the 2021 settlements.

After several court hearings on the receivership request, L.A. County Superior Court Judge Peter A. Hernandez has listed education as one of five core reform areas, along with staffing, room confinement, use of force and data management. The next hearing is on Friday.

The county鈥檚 education department declined an interview to discuss the status of the settlement stipulations.

鈥淥ver the past four years, we鈥檝e made substantial progress across multiple areas of the agreement, even while managing significant operational changes, including the closure of Central Juvenile Hall and the opening of Los Padrinos,鈥� Elizabeth Graswich, LACOE鈥檚 executive director of public affairs and communication, wrote in a statement to EdSource. 鈥淎s with many complex, multi-year agreements, some areas required additional time to fully implement.鈥�

Prioritizing education

Full operational control under receivership would include management of its Probation Department, which contracts with the county education department for services to students enrolled in schools within detention facilities. The most recent enrollment  shows 532 students enrolled across seven juvenile detention facilities, with at least 225 in juvenile halls.

It鈥檚 this memorandum of understanding between the departments, plus how closely they must work on a regular basis to ensure students receive an education, that makes changes to one department nearly inextricable from the other.

Despite this, advocates say education is not always a priority in discussions about reforms to the juvenile justice system.

鈥淚t鈥檚 kind of a theme that education is a secondary thought 鈥� but I think the point is really valid that young people spend a majority of their waking hours in school each day when they鈥檙e in a facility, so we should really be focusing on that,鈥� said Megan Stanton-Trehan, a senior attorney with Disability Rights California.

When Stanton-Trehan represented detained students during the initial years of the settlement with LACOE, staff would sometimes say her clients refused special education services, only to later learn her clients weren鈥檛 always clear on what the services were.

The settlement requires that the county 鈥渄ocument efforts to send youth to the classroom on the same day that the youth refuses to go to school, except when there is an immediate threat to the safety of the youth or others.鈥�

But Nu帽ez agreed that, to this day, it still isn鈥檛 always clear whether students actually refused services or how the alleged refusal is documented.

鈥淚f I go visit a client and they don鈥檛 come out to see me, all I鈥檒l be told is 鈥榯hey refused,鈥欌�� said Nu帽ez, who was recently told a client didn鈥檛 want to meet with her. It was only when she pressed further that she was told the client was in the middle of completing a test.

This was published on .

Local government agencies in charge of youth violated the educational and civil rights of students in Los Angeles County鈥檚 juvenile justice facilities for decades by punting responsibility and inaction, according to a report released Wednesday.

鈥溾�� blames the disconnected, vast network of local and state agencies 鈥� from the board of supervisors to the local probation department to the county office of education and more 鈥� that play one role or another in managing the county鈥檚 juvenile legal system, for the disruption in the care and education of youth in one of the nation鈥檚 largest systems.

鈥淭his broken system perpetuates a harmful cycle of 鈥榝inger-pointing,鈥� often between Probation and Los Angeles County Office of Education, which hinders the resolution of issues that significantly affect the education of incarcerated youth,鈥� wrote the Education Justice Coalition, authors of the report.

The coalition includes representatives from Children鈥檚 Defense Fund-California, ACLU of Southern California, Arts for Healing and Justice Network, Disability Rights California, Youth Justice Education Clinic at Loyola Law School, and Public Counsel.

The authors listed three demands for the board of supervisors, including reducing youth incarceration by way of implementing the previously approved Youth Justice Reimagined plan, providing access to high-quality education, and adopting transparency and accountability measures.

Decades of documented rights violations

A timeline outlines repeated student rights violations, some of which have resulted in class-action lawsuits and settlements requiring the county to be monitored by the federal and state departments of justice for years at a time.

Since 2000, the timeline notes that Los Angeles County has faced:

• A civil grand jury report calling on the board of supervisors to 鈥渋mprove collaboration鈥� between the probation and education departments in order to address unmet educational needs
• An investigation by the federal Department of Justice 鈥� and subsequent settlements 鈥� found significant teacher shortages, lack of consistency in daily instruction, and issues with support for students with special needs
• A class action lawsuit against the county office of education and the probation department
• An investigation by the state Department of Justice, followed by settlements, found excessive use of force and inadequate services
• Multiple findings by a state agency of L.A. County juvenile facilities being 鈥渦nsuitable for the confinement of minors鈥�

Most recently, the state attorney general has , which would mean full state ownership of the county鈥檚 juvenile halls.

The Los Angeles Board of Supervisors, the probation department, and the Office of Education did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

The lasting impact of academic disruptions

Dovontray Farmer experienced the mismanaged system when he entered Los Padrinos Juvenile Hall a second time as a 10th grader. Now 24 and serving as a youth mentor with the Youth Justice Coalition, Farmer said that his time in L.A. County facilities 鈥減layed a major role in not being able to get properly educated 鈥� I felt betrayed, honestly.鈥�

Returning to school after being released was difficult, he said, because he quickly realized he was several grade levels below his classmates at his local high school.

He鈥檇 also been part of his school鈥檚 football team before his detention at Los Padrinos when he was 17, and said he tried returning to the team once released but wasn鈥檛 allowed back.

He said the disruption to his education and participation on the football team, which he saw as a positive influence, affected how he viewed his life.

鈥淭here was nothing I really could do, so I was really giving up,鈥� he said. 鈥淟ike, everything that I really cared for was already gone.鈥�

The environment at the juvenile facilities didn鈥檛 help matters. 

Los Padrinos recently came under fire after a  published by the Los Angeles Times showed probation officers standing idle as detained youths fought. Thirty officers have been indicted on criminal charges for encouraging or organizing gladiator-style fights among youths.

Farmer said he was put through those same types of fights when he was at Los Padrinos as a teenager.

鈥淎 lot of the coverage recently has been about the recent gladiator fights in 2023, but clearly this is a very systemic issue that even when a problem is resolved in the short term, we鈥檙e uncovering that it鈥檚 really indicative of a larger systemic problem,鈥� said Vivian Wong, an education attorney and director of the Youth Justice Education Clinic at Loyola Law School, whose recent clients have included Los Padrinos students.

Education data across several years backs Farmer鈥檚 experiences while detained.

The most recent state data available when Farmer was detained at Los Padrinos is from 2018, when 39% of students were chronically absent, less than 43% graduated, and 12% were suspended at least once.

That same year, the  was 9% for chronic absenteeism, 83.5% for graduation, and 3.5% for suspension.

Ongoing education concerns

The report鈥檚 authors note that students across several facilities have lost thousands of instructional minutes, with a 鈥渓ack of transparency and concrete planning to ensure that the missed services are adequately made up for, leaving students at risk of falling further behind educationally.鈥�

While compensatory education has typically been used to resolve instructional minutes owed, 鈥淚 am not sure that鈥檚 the most realistic way to remedy the injustice that young people face, because they have endured so much abuse in these facilities,鈥� said Wong. 鈥淚t鈥檚 much more than just a loss of instruction.鈥�

A more appropriate response to the loss of instructional time would be a consistent investment in avoiding detention and keeping young people in their communities to maintain school stability, she added.

Past attempts at reform have often been 鈥渄one without community input or leadership, both in the design and in the implementation of those reforms,鈥� Wong said.

The new report, she added, is meant to be a tool toward implementing Youth Justice Reimagined, or YJR, a model against punitive measures that was largely developed with input from community organizations to restructure the local juvenile legal system.

Three demands

, approved by the Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors in November 2020 to reform the local juvenile legal system, would move the county away from punitive approaches, such as detention, and toward rehabilitative support through counseling, family and vocational programming, small residential home placements, and more.

Youth detention results in 鈥渟evere disconnection from and disruption to their education trajectory,鈥� wrote the report鈥檚 authors, as they urged the board to address abysmal educational access and achievement by fully funding and implementing YJR.

The disconnect, they added, is exacerbated by delayed school enrollment when detained and upon release, the constant presence of probation officers, and turnover of educators and classmates.

These common experiences are particularly difficult for students with learning disabilities or a history of trauma, they wrote.

鈥淎fter more than a decade of incremental reform, it is time for the County to truly reimagine youth justice,鈥� wrote Supervisors Sheila Kuehl and Mark Ridley-Thomas in their November 2020  to approve YJR. 鈥淚n the same way that the Board has embraced a care first, jail last approach to the criminal justice system, it is incumbent upon the Board to embrace a care first youth development approach to youth justice.鈥�

Despite the approval, a report published in August 2024 by the state auditor found that less than half of the YJR recommendations had been implemented by mid-2024.

To address the high rates of chronic absenteeism, poor testing results and instructional minutes owed, the Education Justice Coalition鈥檚 second demand is to adapt educational opportunities 鈥渢o address the unique and significant needs of the court school population.鈥�

They listed 18 actions the county probation and education departments should work together on, including:

• Appropriate education support for students with disabilities聽
• Access to A-G approved courses for every student in a juvenile facility
• Classrooms led by educators, rather than probation officers
• Appropriately credentialed and culturally competent educators
• Education access that is not disrupted due to probation staffing issues

The coalition鈥檚 third demand centered on transparency and accountability measures by providing families with access to education planning for their children and establishing work groups that include community members.

This was originally published on .

Throw parents in jail. 

Chronic absenteeism nearly doubled 鈥� to about 30% 鈥� the year after the pandemic shuttered classrooms, and of more than 1 million Americans. Student attendance rates have improved by just a few percentage points since the federal public health emergency expired nearly two years ago, a reality that鈥檚 been dubbed 鈥淓ducation鈥檚 long COVID.鈥� 

But Johnson, a Republican district attorney representing three counties , said the persistent absences have nothing to do with the pandemic and instead are because 鈥渨e鈥檙e going too easy on kids鈥� and parents have been given 鈥渁n excuse not to be accountable.鈥� 

Since Johnson was elected in 2022 on a campaign promise to enforce Oklahoma鈥檚 , he’s forced dozens of students and parents into hasty court appearances and, on several occasions, put parents behind bars in the hope it will compel their children to show up for class.

Lawmakers nationwide have taken a similar approach, including in Indiana, Iowa and West Virginia, where new laws leverage the legal system to crack down on student absences. 

鈥淲e prosecute everything from murders to rape to financial crimes, but in my view, the ones that cause the most societal harm is when people do harm to children, either child neglect, child physical abuse, child sexual abuse, domestic violence in homes, and then you can add truancy to the list,鈥� Johnson said. 

鈥淚t鈥檚 not as bad, in my opinion, as beating a child, but it’s on the spectrum because you鈥檙e not putting that child in a position to be successful,鈥� continued Johnson, who has dubbed 2025 the 鈥�

Since the pandemic, policymakers have taken on a heightened role in addressing persistent student absences, and lawmakers nationwide have proposed dozens of bills this year to combat chronic absenteeism, typically defined as missing 10% of school days in an academic year for any reason. Such efforts have fallen broadly into two camps: incentives and accountability. have taken a similar approach to Johnson鈥檚, imposing fines and jail stints for missed seat time. Other efforts have focused on addressing the root causes of chronic absenteeism, like homelessness, and have sought to draw kids to campuses with rewards. 

In Hawaii, for example, pending legislation seeks to entice student attendance with the promise of . In Detroit, where 75% of students were chronically absent last year, the district employs both the carrot and the stick: handing out $200 gift cards to 5,000 students with perfect attendance while warning those with an extremely high number of absences that they can be held back a grade in K-8 or made to repeat classes in high school.

In Oklahoma, where parents can be jailed for up to five days and fined $50 each day their child is absent from school without an excuse, proposed legislation would let schools off the hook. 

For years, Oklahoma schools have received poor grades for chronic absenteeism, one metric the state uses to gauge school performance. If approved, would strike chronic absenteeism from the state accountability system, a change officials said is necessary because it鈥檚 the responsibility of parents 鈥� not principals and teachers 鈥� to get kids to class. 

Schools in Oklahoma 鈥渉ave very little control over whether or not a kid gets to school,鈥� Rep. Ronny Johns, a Republican from Ada, told 社区黑料. Ada, the county seat of Pontotoc County, is ground zero for Johnson鈥檚 truancy initiative, an effort that Johns, a former school principal, said should be replicated statewide.聽

鈥淲e can encourage them to get their kids to school and everything,鈥� Johns said. 鈥淏ut in the end, parents have got to get their kid up and get them to school.鈥�

鈥楢 shared responsibility鈥�

The , collected by the U.S. Department of Education for the 2022-23 school year, found that some 13.4 million students 鈥� nearly 28% 鈥� missed 10% or more of the academic year. In a majority of states, chronic absenteeism has shown marginal improvements since its peak. Nationally, chronic absenteeism reached an all-time high in the 2021-22 school year of nearly 30%. Pre-pandemic, the national rate was about 15%. 

Some states like Colorado and Connecticut have seen substantial improvements in absenteeism, the data show. In others, including Oklahoma, since 2021-22. In 2023, nearly a quarter of Oklahoma students were chronically absent, according to the federal data. 

among Native American, Pacific Islander, Black and Hispanic students, as well as those who are English learners, in special education or live in low-income households. 

Hedy Chang, the founder and executive director of the nonprofit Attendance Works, said the key to solving chronic absenteeism is to address the underlying problems that make kids absent in the first place. The California-based nonprofit focused solely on improving student attendance identifies a range of , including student disengagement, boredom and unwelcoming school climates. Caregivers鈥� negative education experiences are a factor, according to the nonprofit. So, too, is homelessness and community violence.

Last year, lawmakers in 28 states focused on identifying, preventing and addressing chronic absenteeism, according to analyses by the nonprofit FutureEd. This year, legislators in 20 states are weighing focused on chronic absences, including efforts to improve data collection and create early interventions. 

The Oklahoma legislation seeks to replace chronic absenteeism in its school accountability system with an alternative, such as a climate survey, a softer measure that would gauge students鈥�, parents鈥� and educators鈥� opinions about their schools. The move would require approval from the U.S. Department of Education. 

States have been required to collect chronic absenteeism rates since the passage of the federal Every Student Succeeds Act in 2015. Since then, chronic absenteeism has been included as one of six school performance indicators on Oklahoma鈥檚 annual A-F report cards from the state education department. Currently, 38 states use chronic absenteeism to grade school performance, Chang said. 

For schools in Oklahoma, the measurement has proven to be a hurdle. In 2022-23, the state鈥檚 schools received an F grade in chronic absenteeism. Last year, the state grade ticked up slightly 鈥� to a D. 

Removing chronic absenteeism from the state accountability system, Johns, the state lawmaker, said, could allow schools across Oklahoma to receive better grades. Meanwhile, he supports initiatives to handle student absences through the courts, arguing that 鈥減arents need to have some skin in the game.鈥� 

鈥淐hronic absenteeism is driving our report card down,鈥� Johns said. 鈥淲ithout the chronic absenteeism [measurement], our report card is not going to look as bad as it is because our public schools are doing some really good things, so why shouldn鈥檛 the report card be a reflection of that?鈥�

Chang argued the move is misguided. She pointed to a growing body of research that has found schools can combat absenteeism if they form meaningful relationships with parents and partner with social services agencies that to attendance, like food insecurity. 

There鈥檚 little research to suggest that fines and other forms of punishment improve attendance. Even as some states ramp up truancy rules, others have scaled them back as studies report that punitive measures can backfire. In South Carolina schools, for example, students placed on probation for truancy wound up with even worse school attendance than they had before the courts got involved, by the nonprofit Council of State Governments Justice Center. 

In , the Oklahoma State Department of Education highlighted school districts that have made 鈥渋mpressive strides in reducing鈥� chronic absenteeism and that 鈥渙ffer valuable lessons on how schools can re-engage students.鈥� Among them is a 24% drop in absenteeism at Dahlonegah Public Schools, which hired a school-based police officer to visit the homes of students who failed to attend school. The district also credited improvements to 鈥渁 welcoming and engaging school environment.鈥� 

The state education department didn鈥檛 respond to requests for comment. 

鈥淔amilies have to be involved and they have to be partners and they have to take responsibility for getting kids to school, but it鈥檚 not solely about what families do or don鈥檛 do,鈥� Chang said. 鈥淚 think it鈥檚 a mistake to assume it鈥檚 only one group鈥檚 responsibility. This is a shared responsibility.鈥�

鈥楤roken families, no economic opportunity, no education鈥�

Johnson, the district attorney, said his office has stepped up to address a problem that state education leaders have failed to solve. He took particular aim at the state鈥檚 high-profile education secretary, Ryan Walters, who has become an outspoken champion of conservative education causes. 

Yet, as far as chronic absenteeism goes, Johnson said the state schools chief 鈥渉as no interest in talking about鈥� the topic except 鈥渨hen he could get a soundbite on Fox News.鈥� The state education department did not respond to Johnson鈥檚 comments.

The 51-year-old father of four also pinned persistent chronic absenteeism on parents 鈥� those living in poverty, in particular. Children in his district who most often miss school, he said, are 鈥渒ind of feral.鈥� 

鈥淢y friends generally don鈥檛 have children that are in crisis because, just economically speaking, they鈥檙e on the higher end of the spectrum,鈥� Johnson told 社区黑料. 

Johnson said there are about 7,500 K-12 children in the counties that make up his district and estimated that at least 30% contend with 鈥渆conomic poverty, multi-generational drug abuse, domestic abuse in the home, broken families, no economic opportunity, no education.鈥�

鈥淚f you live in a school district where there is a real high poverty level and a real high incarceration rate, then a lot of times you鈥檙e going to get kids that have been raised in those environments,鈥� Johnson said. 鈥淪o you鈥檙e going to have a lot more challenges with that group than you would if every person had a four-wheel drive vehicle and in their driveway and everybody has a good industrial job and is making a good living and providing for their families.鈥�

Johnson said schools should play a role in encouraging students to go to school, but when that doesn鈥檛 work, threats of jail are needed. In Pontotoc County, just two truancy charges were filed against parents in 2023, according to data provided to 社区黑料 by Johnson鈥檚 office. That number jumped to 20 last year and, so far this year, there have already been eight. 

David Blatt, the director of research and strategic impact at the nonprofit Oklahoma Appleseed, questioned the accuracy of the data and said it could be an undercount. He said he attended a truancy court case in Ada last year where as many as 30 parents and students made appearances before a judge that lasted just 60 to 90 seconds each. 

In , Blatt found that truancy laws were enforced inconsistently across the state and urged policymakers to adopt interventions and supports for families to address chronic absenteeism rather than criminalize them. Blatt backs the legislation to remove chronic absenteeism as a school accountability measure, acknowledging that certain attendance barriers are outside of educators鈥� direct control. But he said Johnson鈥檚 characterization of the problem is 鈥渞ather harsh and one-sided.鈥� 

Rather than being apathetic toward their children鈥檚 education, he said many parents struggle with work responsibilities and transportation while children wrestle with in-school factors that can discourage attendance, such as persistent bullying. 

鈥淭here may be cases where being called before a judge will help convince them of the seriousness of things, but for other cases, it鈥檚 just going to compound their problems,鈥� Blatt said. 鈥淎dding court appearances and fees and fines doesn鈥檛 solve their problems. It just adds to them.鈥� 

Yet for Johnson, the issue stems from a lack of repercussions. By enforcing truancy cases, he said schools have 鈥渁 little bit of a weapon鈥� against parents whose children are missing school and can threaten them with jail time. Most of the time, he said, threats alone improve student attendance and in many cases the charges wind up getting dismissed.

In fewer than a dozen instances, he said, his truancy crackdown has led to parents serving time behind bars. 

鈥淕enerally, they鈥檒l go in for about four hours,鈥� Johnson said. 鈥淲e鈥檒l give them the taste of it.鈥� 

Black youth show up in emergency rooms with gunshot wounds or other violent injuries in the United States. Some hospitals have that can be effective in keeping these kids safer after they are treated, but in most cases victims are sent back into the world to continue their struggles.

鈥淭he distance between the federal government and your local school principal is huge,鈥� said Ken Trump, a school safety expert who consults with districts across the country. 鈥淭he federal government is the last place they look for resources.鈥�

Launched in 2020, was an outgrowth of the Federal Commission on School Safety created after the 2018 mass shooting that left 17 dead at a high school in Parkland, Florida. Max Schachter, the father of one of the students killed at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School, the updated clearinghouse in the new law. 

The legislation gives the Department of Homeland Security responsibility for the Federal Clearinghouse on School Safety Evidence-based Practices. That could suggest the resources included would lean more toward what is often referred to as 鈥渉ardening鈥� schools with armed officers and tighter security, Trump said. 

鈥淎re we really saying that our education departments are inept and incapable of handling school safety?鈥� he asked. 

The clearinghouse is part of the Bipartisan Safer Communities Act, the gun reform law sparked by the May 24 mass shooting in Uvalde, Texas, that left 21 dead, including 19 fourth graders. While some observers said the new law makes only 鈥渕odest progress鈥� on , others were pleased that it broadens the scope of what it means to keep schools safe by emphasizing mental health services. 

鈥淚 take some consolation from the fact that we are not trying to ram through the increasing militarization of schools,鈥� said Meg Caven, a senior research associate at the Education Development Center, a nonprofit research organization near Boston. But she added that there鈥檚 still limited evidence behind many school safety efforts. 鈥淸Schools] want an out-of-the-box solution and there isn鈥檛 one.鈥�

The legislation comes as the , released Tuesday, shows 93 school shootings with casualties occurred during the 2020-21 school year 鈥� the highest number since the government began collecting the data in 2000. Many of the incidents occurred on or near school property while the buildings were closed for remote instruction.

Research backs to school safety 鈥� securing the physical space as well as emphasizing violence prevention and ensuring students feel welcome and supported at school. But researchers note that schools and communities face 鈥渆normous challenges鈥� in striking that balance. 

A 2018 Johns Hopkins University study found on the effectiveness of controlling access to schools and adding more school safety hardware. 

Adam Lane, principal of Haines City High School in central Florida, said he鈥檚 viewed the existing clearinghouse, but relies much more on local sheriff鈥檚 deputies who regularly walk through his school site and review safety procedures. 

鈥淚鈥檝e got a face, a name and a cell phone number,鈥� he said. 鈥淭hey know me. They know my students.鈥�

His 3,000-student school also has 12 counselors, a social worker and a school psychologist. He said he would use any additional funding from the law to further reduce counselor caseloads, currently at 300.

The law provides roughly $2 billion for school safety improvements, school climate initiatives and student mental health services. Other provisions that focus on students and schools include:

• Expanding criminal background checks for gun buyers under 21 to include juvenile justice records, as well as mental health histories, which some say could result in unintended consequences. Riya Saha Shah, managing director of the Juvenile Law Center, said there currently is no central repository for juvenile mental health records and that states might try to make it easier to access such information because of the law. 鈥淲e don鈥檛 know what it will be used for beyond this particular background check,鈥� she said, adding that it could make students reluctant to seek help from school counselors and mental health specialists. 
• Allowing districts to bill Medicaid for mental health services to students with an individualized education program, including telehealth, and providing $50 million to update Medicaid systems for school-based services. AASA, the School Superintendents Association, has been for this flexibility. Within a year, the education department must also work with other federal agencies to create a technical assistance center to help districts, especially small and rural ones, with billing questions and administrative issues.
• Providing $1 billion for the education department鈥檚 Student Support and Academic Enrichment program 鈥� the part of the Every Student Succeeds Act that calls for students to have a 鈥渨ell-rounded鈥� education. The funding can be used to improve student engagement and school climate with offerings such as art and music programs, foreign language and environmental education. The funding also supports educational technology
• Providing $500 million for training school counselors, social workers and psychologists through an existing Department of Education .
• Including $240 million for , which stands for Advancing Wellness and Resiliency in Education. A partnership between state education and mental health agencies, the program provides training to school staff members and other professionals working with students. Sixty grantees have received funding since 2018, and according to the website, over 141,000 students have been referred for mental health services.
• Increasing funding for the 21st Century Community Learning Centers program by $50 million. These funds will be used to expand afterschool and summer programs for older students.
• Including $40 million for the National Child Traumatic Stress Network 鈥� a system of 116 centers that provide care and train educators and other professionals to understand the impact of trauma on children.

鈥淢y wife鈥檚 mom is from St. Johns, and we would come here for family things,鈥� says Latham, who was raised in the Mormon Church and studied law at Brigham Young University in Utah. He had been working at a law firm in Phoenix but wanted to spend more time in the courtroom. So after they moved to St. Johns, he ran for office and told his wife, 鈥淲e鈥檒l either win, or we鈥檒l move again.鈥�

They won, and, in 2014 he became Apache County鈥檚 Superior Court judge. Latham had no specific vision for his new role, aside from wanting to try new approaches to old problems. 鈥淚n small counties and towns, a lot of times things are being done the way they鈥檙e being done, because that鈥檚 how they鈥檝e always been done,鈥� he told me.

At the top of his list was reforming the town鈥檚 underutilized juvenile detention facility. Latham knew that the facility, which was built to hold up to 11 kids, cost the county over $1.2 million a year even though it sat empty for six to eight weeks at a time. 鈥淲hen you average 1.7 kids a day, those costs just stop making sense,鈥� he said. 鈥淚n a small county like this, you just don鈥檛 have the numbers and you don鈥檛 ever want to make the numbers.鈥�

Apache County wasn鈥檛 the only place with empty juvenile halls. Nearby rural counties like Navajo and Gila saw only one or two kids a day held in detention. It was unclear to Latham whether police were doing fewer referrals or whether kids simply weren鈥檛 getting into trouble as much. 

The more he looked into it, the more he thought St. Johns resembled the many communities, both rural and urban, across Arizona and the West, where juvenile crime was decreasing even as public opinion about harsh punishment had started to shift.

In the 1980s, America faced growing rates of both adult and juvenile violence. In the decade between 1980 and 1990, arrests for offenses like murder, rape, robbery and aggravated assault rose by 64%, according to the Washington, D.C.-based Urban Institute. The nationwide juvenile arrest rate for murder almost tripled during that time, from five to 14 young people out of every 100,000.

There were several reasons, sociologists thought, for the spike in violence, including an increase in the use of handguns as well as the growth of illegal drug markets, especially for crack cocaine. And the future was expected to be even worse: The 鈥�90s had already been dubbed the 鈥淪uperpredator Era.鈥�

Coined by Princeton University sociology professor John Dilulio, the term superpredator referred to 鈥渁 young juvenile criminal who is so impulsive, so remorseless, that he can kill, rape, maim, without giving it a second thought.鈥� Speaking to the press in 1995, Dilulio predicted that the number of juveniles in U.S. custody would rise exponentially over the next few decades; these young cold-blooded criminals, he claimed, 鈥渇ear neither the stigma of arrest nor the pain of imprisonment.鈥�

Dilulio鈥檚 critics slammed his warnings as racist and partisan. And Dilulio turned out to be wrong: Even though the population of 10- to-17-year-olds continued to grow, violent crime in America began to drop starting in 1994, falling to its lowest point in two decades. Dilulio later publicly apologized for his grim predictions, saying his approach was misdirected.

But the damage had been done. Sensationalist media coverage of children committing gruesome crimes frightened Americans, and by the late 鈥�90s, nearly every state in the country had begun treating minors like adults, even sentencing them to life without parole. By the year 2000, more than 100,000 young people 鈥� mainly Black and brown teenagers 鈥� were in custody in the U.S., and larger detention facilities were being built to accommodate them, according to the Bureau of Justice Statistics. 

That was around the time Victor Ch谩vez began work as a corrections officer for the Navajo County adult corrections system in Arizona. Ch谩vez defies the corrections officer stereotype: He has a mellow, friendly demeanor and was a mentor for the local Boys & Girls Club. He sought to reduce the incarcerated population through a program called Intensive Supervised Probation, which allows convicted offenders to rejoin their communities while they are monitored by someone like Ch谩vez. Some people, he explained, do well on probation and go on to have successful lives. 鈥淏ut when you have to revoke them, then they end up having to go (back) to prison,鈥� he said, his voice cracking a bit. 鈥淪ometimes that gets to you. And it does to me. As I get older, I have more empathy for people and their families.鈥�

By 2015, Ch谩vez had a family of his own. And he was ready for something different; he wanted to provide more hands-on mentorship. One day, he got a call from Paul Hancock, a former fellow corrections officer who was now director of Juvenile Court Services for Apache County.

鈥淗e was like, 鈥榁ictor, we鈥檙e going to do something,鈥欌�� he said. 鈥溾�楬opefully, it鈥檚 going to be really awesome. And I鈥檇 like you to come be a part of it.鈥欌��

Hancock told Ch谩vez that the Apache County juvenile detention facility, located about an hour and a half from where he worked in Navajo County, was closing. The new judge, Michael Latham, had some ideas for how to use the space, and he wanted forward-looking people like Ch谩vez to be part of a social experiment.

Two years after Ch谩vez spoke to Hancock, the Loft Legacy Teen Center in St. Johns celebrated its grand opening in August 2017. A YouTube video of that day shows Judge Latham talking to a group of about 30 excited teenagers. 鈥淗opefully, this is something that will be here for decades,鈥� he said to loud cheers from the kids. Standing over to one side, Ch谩vez and Hancock, the two former corrections officers-turned-mentors, smiled. They were dressed in casual clothing 鈥� T-shirts, jeans, baseball caps 鈥� just like the teens in the audience.

The Loft occupies the old juvenile facility building on Cleveland Street, but it looks very different now. Repurposed and cleaned up, it resembles an industrial loft space: The white walls are finished with wood and aluminum, and there are couches and beanbag chairs in every room.

In one area, teenagers can study and use free internet from 2:30 to 5 p.m. during the week. There鈥檚 even a fully equipped recording studio, and a music space with a keyboard and electric guitars. The setup was inspired by The Rock, a teen center started in Phoenix by the legendary rocker Alice Cooper.

鈥淲e started off with one pool table, but it was wildly popular,鈥� Hancock said as we watched the kids trickle in after their high school let out. 鈥淎nd the great thing about pool is that it鈥檚 like a social game. You can鈥檛 play pool and not talk to somebody. So we have kids that don鈥檛 know each other at the high school, but they know each other really well here.鈥�

For Hannah Wilkinson, The Loft, which opened in her freshman year, became a refuge. Her parents were strict, so she spent most afternoons during high school here. It made such a difference that, after graduating from high school, she became a mentor.

The job basically requires her to hang out with younger kids and model good behavior. Sometimes, she has to act as the disciplinarian, even though, at 19, she looks as young as the teens she supervises. 鈥淪ome kids will just come up and start talking,鈥� Wilkinson told me. 鈥淚f there鈥檚 a life in danger or something illegal going on, I have to report it. I鈥檝e only had to do that once, thankfully.鈥�

One of the Loft鈥檚 regulars is a 17-year-old I鈥檒l call William. (I鈥檝e agreed to not use his real name because St. Johns is a small town and what he tells me could impact his life.) 鈥淚鈥檓 one of the biggest nerds you鈥檒l ever find in this town,鈥� he joked when we met, without turning away from the X-Box. William, who dropped out of school after eighth grade, comes to The Loft religiously to play video games. Like Wilkinson, he lacks an ideal relationship with his parents, and sometimes he comes in just to talk with her.

As a socially alienated teenager who鈥檚 not into sports, William has often felt like he doesn鈥檛 belong. 鈥淢ost of the time, if you talk to certain people, you feel like you鈥檙e getting judged or something. But when you talk to them here, they don鈥檛 immediately jump to one conclusion,鈥� he said. William鈥檚 mentors are working with the high school counselor, trying to help him return to school.

While he chatted with Wilkinson in the main room, I talked to Richard Gwinn at the reception desk. 鈥淚鈥檇 like to think we are part of a bigger shift,鈥� Gwinn, a former sheriff鈥檚 deputy, told me, explaining how The Loft works to keep young people out of the criminal justice system through truancy prevention and mentorship programs. 鈥淎nd I think it has worked, because we鈥檝e had a tremendous reduction in the number of referrals.鈥� The year The Loft opened, juvenile arrests in Apache County dropped by 55%. And the center operates at roughly a quarter of the amount it cost the county to run the juvenile facility.

Still, the drop in juvenile arrests is due to more than a local shift in resources. In 2011, the state established a detention-screening tool that determines whether a juvenile should be put in detention in the first place. 鈥淚f a judge or a probation officer gets upset with a kid and the response is detention, the tool kind of re-guided them and said, 鈥楴o, this kid really isn鈥檛 a public risk,鈥欌�� said Joseph Kelroy, the director of the Juvenile Justice Services Division at the Arizona Supreme Court.

Other states are attempting more ambitious reforms. California is shutting down its Division of Juvenile Justice altogether; by July 2023, its three remaining facilities will close and California will replace it with a new Department of Youth and Community Restoration, which promises rehabilitation along with educational and job training.

California鈥檚 shift amounts to a massive undertaking. But The Loft has shown that it鈥檚 possible to move to a care-first model even in a rural county in a politically conservative state. If the teen center continues to partner with local organizations to address illegal activity and minimize arrests, the mentors say, youth detention facilities will eventually become obsolete.

 During my visit this spring, I was invited to attend graduation and watch as 66 local teens received their diplomas. About half of the kids came through The Loft, part of the first high school class that has had the youth center as a resource since freshman year. 

Backstage, Hancock and Ch谩vez chat with William, who is there to film the ceremony and stream it online for everyone who couldn鈥檛 attend due to the pandemic.

While they wait for the ceremony to start, Hancock and Ch谩vez urge William to go back to school, as they often do. 鈥淛ust get your high school diploma,鈥� Hancock says. 鈥淭hen you could study video or animation. Wouldn鈥檛 you like to graduate like the kids here today?鈥�

William looks shyly at the ground. He seems unaffected by their words, perhaps a little confused. But as long as he spends time at The Loft, Hancock and Ch谩vez will keep encouraging him. Try sports, they鈥檒l say, or video or music 鈥� whatever.

The graduates鈥� names are called and they throw their caps in the air as Kool & the Gang鈥檚 鈥淐elebration鈥� plays over the loudspeakers. William checks in with Ch谩vez, who says he鈥檚 good to go home. 鈥淪ee you on Monday!鈥� Ch谩vez shouts, as William makes his way out of the auditorium. 

This originally appeared at聽聽and is published here in partnership with the聽.

Juvenile lock-ups in the city are facing a staffing 鈥渃risis within [a] crisis鈥� as overworked guards manage an aging and increasingly listless population of detainees.

Youth advocates and union officials are asking for more staff and structure in the detention facilities as the city鈥檚 child welfare agency struggles to maintain a workforce dealing with injuries and exhaustion.

According to the Administration for Children鈥檚 Services, only 401 of the required 850 so-called Youth Development Specialists were working as of Monday. This as nearly 250 positions have been left unfilled, and more than 200 specialists are out on worker鈥檚 compensation or other reasons.

Social workers and kids primarily want more and better 鈥減rogramming鈥� outside of their halls, which includes educational courses, job training, therapeutic work and physical activities. Meanwhile, union members are calling for the city to hire hundreds of workers that were promised years ago.

Both groups say more social and educational stimulation for the young detainees 鈥� which would require more staff 鈥� would help quell violence and foster a healthier environment.

鈥淭here is a sitting audience that is thirsting for knowledge and thirsting for positive activities while they鈥檙e there,鈥� said Ron Schneider, a social worker with Brooklyn Defender Services. He said his young clients have noted a marked decline in creative outlets since the pandemic began.

Older 鈥榊outh鈥� Present Challenges

The recently released shed some light on the current state of affairs at New York City鈥檚 juvenile facilities, even as most eyes were focused on the problems at .

The data showed an older population, staying longer than before at the city鈥檚 two secure juvenile detention centers, Crossroads, in Brooklyn, and Horizon in The Bronx.

Currently, the population at the facilities is shifting towards late teens: 48 of the 139 kids currently detained are over 18. Youth detained there as minors can now stay until they are 24, following the 2017 passage of , which removed minors from adult jails and the purview of the city鈥檚 Department of Corrections from the juvenile lockups.

That presents a challenge, say staff, who complain that older detainees are physically more difficult to control, and can be a bad influence on younger kids.

According to the MMR, the average daily population of youth in juvenile lockup decreased 7.6% across the city鈥檚 network of detention facilities 鈥� from about 129 kids in 2020 to nearly 119 in 2021.

But fewer kids are returning to detention as well: Some 49% of detainees locked up in 2021 had previously been incarcerated, down from 58% of youth last year.

The dive in population was 鈥渓argely the result of the COVID-19 pandemic鈥� according to the report. The Legal Aid Society also to release children held as the virus raged 鈥� and ultimately, dozens were .

This marked the mayor鈥檚 third management report since state legislators passed the landmark Raise the Age legislation, which removed New York from the short list of states that automatically prosecuted teens as adults.

Lisa Freeman of Legal Aid called the shrinking population 鈥渁 wonderful thing that has come out of the pandemic and something that should be a lesson going forward.鈥�

Regularly Scheduled Programming

For advocates of youth still on the inside, programming and school remain paramount.

鈥淭he kids do state that if it鈥檚 not for school, they鈥檙e sleeping all day long, there鈥檚 nothing else to do. So they are asking for programming,鈥� said Schneider.

Last year, THE CITY found that kids in detention doing remote learning were stuck on mute and could not speak to their teachers for much of the pandemic. Now, youth have returned to full in-person schooling, according to ACS.

Schneider visits his clients at Crossroads on a daily basis and said that the structure young detainees receive from school and programming outside their units helps to dampen potential conflict at the facility 鈥� and staves off depression and loneliness in kids.

Before the pandemic, he said, outside agencies would provide consistent in-person programming such as mentorship, job training, even work through the city鈥檚 Summer Youth Employment Program. But since COVID-19 descended on the facilities, youth have reported that activities have been severely limited.

ACS would not say what percentage of programming at Crossroads and Horizon is by outside providers, or how much of it is happening as scheduled.

As of Wednesday, at total 139 youth were living at Horizon and Crossroads and about 21 children were staying in less-secure settings. Many are being held there while still awaiting a trial.

ACS blamed the now typical 38 days of stay on court slow-downs. That鈥檚 up from 29 in 2020 and more than double the 17-day average in 2019, according to the agency鈥檚 numbers.

鈥淚f we want safer facilities where youth have the opportunity to spend the majority of their time productively working towards their employment and career goals, the city needs to make a significant investment in workforce programming,鈥� said Laurel Gwizdak Rinaldi, director of youth services at the Center for Community Alternatives,  in a statement to THE CITY.

Rinaldi鈥檚 organization helps run programming at Horizon and Crossroads, and called for more city funding to help career-minded youth.

鈥淚deally youth would be engaged every evening and weekend in high-quality vocational, certification, pre-apprenticeship and college access programming,鈥� she explained, but added that hands-on workplace training in detention is 鈥� far more costly than your typical arts and recreational afterschool program.鈥�

An Understaffing 鈥楥risis鈥�

To Darek Robinson, the vice president of grievances for SSEU Local 371, which represents the youth development specialists who run the facilities, agrees that programming is 鈥渘ecessary, definitely necessary.鈥�

鈥淏ut you鈥檙e gonna need constant supervision,鈥� he added.

He added, 鈥淭hat鈥檚 been falling a little short because they鈥檙e short staffed. Just too many people out on worker鈥檚 comp.鈥�

According to ACS, as of Oct. 4, 201 staffers were out on sick leave or on worker鈥檚 compensation 鈥� leaving less than half of the number of staff required to properly run the facilities on duty. ACS also changed shifts from seven to 12 hours as the coronavirus .

Union President Anthony Wells called the mix of understaffing and the pandemic 鈥渁 crisis within the crisis.鈥�

鈥淭he state implemented Raise the Age too soon,鈥� said Wells, 鈥渂ecause it didn鈥檛 give us enough time to really prepare. We don鈥檛 want the kids treated as adults. But it could be done a lot better.鈥�

Similar to Rikers, staff shortages have meant exhausted workers, said Robinson.

鈥淵ou鈥檙e doing 16 hours a day, 18 hours 鈥� you feel [that] by the time you get home you鈥檙e not getting proper sleep, you鈥檙e exhausted, you鈥檙e not 100% so that has an immediate effect on the decision making process, watching kids 鈥� has an adverse effect on performing your job,鈥� he said.

That鈥檚 where mistakes are made on the staff鈥檚 end, he said. The union continues to await the result of for the return to traditional 7-hour shifts.

Robinson also called for a way to hold detainees, especially the older ones, responsible for their actions, and charged assaults have been an ongoing threat to staff.

According to the Mayor鈥檚 Management Report, rates of violence between detainees resulting in injuries across all types of juvenile detention have held steady since 2020, dropping slightly from .35 to .34 per 100 youth.

Attacks on staff by youth causing injury dropped from .30 in 2019 and 2020  to .27 incidents per 100 detainees as well, according to the MMR.

Weapon recovery rates did go up from .22 to .25, as did that of illegal substances from .07 to .14.

The report did not include use of force by staff on children. But last year a federal monitor overseeing city jails Horizon for ongoing 鈥渉yper-confrontational conduct鈥� by ACS staff and stated that 鈥渢he culture of disorder at [Horizon] must be transformed.鈥�

A by the federal monitor on both Horizon and Crossroads is expected by the end of the year.

Reality Check

Marisa Kaufman, an ACS spokesperson, told THE CITY that the agency has been 鈥渁ggressively recruiting, hiring and training multiple classes of [Youth Development Specialists鈥� to address the staffing issue.

It is also 鈥渨orking to better align the preservice training that YDS receive before they are assigned to a facility to ensure it reflects the full reality of the environment,鈥� as well as providing emotional and mental health support.

The agency is also working with embedded consultants from the National Partnership for Juvenile Services to 鈥渉elp [ACS] improve practice and ensure an even safer environment for youth and staff,鈥� Kaufman explained.

She also added  that 鈥淚n-person programming occurred throughout the month of September,鈥� that outside service providers were at detention facilities 鈥渆very day,鈥� providing a variety of programs such as gardening, drama club, urban farming and more, in addition to in-house programming.

But Lisa Salvatore, head of the juvenile defense practice at Brooklyn Defender Services, said the reality for teens behind bars is a different story.

鈥淭here is a big difference between ACS鈥檚 policies and the lived experiences of young people who are in detention,鈥� she said. 鈥淲hat the young people we represent tell us is that they crave programs and education but are not getting enough of what they need to thrive.鈥�

THE CITY is an independent, nonprofit news outlet dedicated to hard-hitting reporting that serves the people of New York.