A 14-year-old bailiff walks across the courtroom to swear in the defendant, high school junior Donnell (we’ve used only first names for underage defendants). The 16-year-old, charged with underage drinking, tells his story to the six-member jury of his peers, about how he knew it was illegal to consume a beer at a party earlier this year but did it anyway. On the way home he was arrested.
The jury watches without expression. Donnell apologizes for his mistake before the jury leaves the room to deliberate. Believing he is remorseful, the teenage jurors sentence him to community service and alcohol counseling sessions and order him to write an apology essay to his parents. Upon completion of his sentence, no formal court record will be filed.
“In addition to putting my future at risk, I disappointed my parents by making that decision to drink,” says Donnell, who, without this sentence, wouldn’t have been able to follow through on a plan to enlist in the Air Force because candidates must have a clean record. “I am fortunate that I am able to utilize Teen Court to help me see how terrible my life could be by making a bad choice. It’s allowed me to
learn, pay back my debt to society and make better choices.”
Welcome to teen court in South Dakota. Designed as an alternative to juvenile court, where a minor offense might be followed by a fine and revolving door, the volunteer after-school program allows teens to take the law into their own hands when one of their own breaks it.
Today, there are about 1,250 similar teen courts in 49 states. High school-aged volunteers run teen court, deciding real cases for defendants ages 10 to 18 who have committed minor nonviolent crimes such as alcohol consumption, petty theft and possession or use of tobacco. Participants are trained as jurors, bailiffs, clerks, prosecutors and defense attorneys. The only adult volunteer in the trial is the presiding judge, who has experience in the juvenile court system. (Parents are also recruited to assist as court monitors).
“I quit my job [of eight years as a court services officer] and donated a year and a half of my time to create the first program,” remembers Lawrence County (SD) Director Marlene Todd, who saw a segment on Teen Courts on 60 Minutes and went to Ft. Worth, Texas to shadow a program there. At the time there were 78 youth courts in the nation. In 1995, Todd started the first teen court in South Dakota, “with my first donations coming from my 5th grade teacher and the local librarian.”
Today there are 19 courts throughout Texas with a combined 87 percent success rate, higher than the formal court system. “[In teen court] you get a second chance in a case where second chances aren’t just given,” says Edward, a young man who was caught shoplifting this year. “The main thing is you have to learn from your mistake and move on from it, and don’t let it happen again.”
Jurors don’t handle their peers with kid gloves. Just the opposite. They are more apt to tell when a student is lying and appear to be less tolerant of attitude problems and they create stronger sentences as a result. Most include a mix of community service, mandatory jury duty in teen court, writing assignments and alcohol or drug awareness counseling.
“I can think of a couple of cases where a young person broke the law, successfully completed the program and returned as a regular volunteer,” says Todd, adding, “the two that I am thinking of, the one young lady is career military and the other young man is currently is law school.”
Who Can Start a Court?
Todd initially organized her first teen court as a nonprofit operating out of her basement because, “I could not convince the court system that this was something we should do.” You too can bypass the town government and run one through neighborhood groups, local businesses or just a coalition of concerned and caring parents.
The one person you must have is a local judge presiding to make the sentences for certain offenders legally binding.
Photo courtesy of Marlene Todd, Director of Lawrence County Teen Court.
