Just to be clear… it’s jail.

There’s more resources. The “counselors” (guards) are friendlier with the “students” (inmates) and overall things are more lenient.

But nonetheless, it’s jail.

Despite the artwork hanging in the halls that the kids completed in class, the upbeat nature of many of the students getting through the day, and the humorous relationships between some of the inmates and the guards, in many ways it’s more depressing.

There’s certainly hope alongside the heartbreak and many of the kids will certainly get out and do just fine.

Most of them are in there for stealing cars, gun charges, assault.

Unfortunately, there’s just as many, if not more, who are only leaving to go up the road to County. There’s a murder unit and it’s full. But perhaps more depressing than that, is the overwhelming feeling that many of those will be leaving, only to return, or go to prison once they fuck up as an adult. That’s the thing that scrapes my soul like dry bones on a chalkboard.

For example…

“Alex”

He showed up in the middle of the summer for a short stint because he missed “program” — which is basically parole officer meetings for juveniles. At program, the mostly play pool. He didn’t go because it got moved to a further location. He was going religiously when it was closer by. Alex was mandated to attend program thanks to a gun charge. According to him, he just got caught with it. Didn’t shoot it. Didn’t pistol whip anyone. Didn’t aim it. Just had it on him at the wrong time.

Certain aspects of the summer educational program, including the portion I taught, were not mandatory. There were some kids assigned to my class who never showed up, not even once. They either chose to watch basic cable daytime programming on the tiny TV in the upper corner of the common area or sit in their units and do whatever (units are cells).

Alex never missed a day. He’d typically come in engaged before letting his interest in basic reading, writing, and algebra wain, in lieu of music. Which was understandable. It was a three hour class. He hated writing. Loved talking.

His favorite thing to say was how he was never coming back to this place. That he was going to be one and done. Nearing 18 years old, it’s pretty much guaranteed that he would never return to juvie. He said he was going to get his CDL and drive trucks. He knew he had to get out of North Philly and blamed his surroundings for some of the problems he was encountering on a daily basis. I liked Alex a lot and I’m certainly rooting for him. And I believed him. Until I didn’t.

First, it was the duration of his attention span that went. Day 1 he was engaged almost until the end. Day 3 he was looking for outs within the first 30 minutes. Day 4 he was arguing the point of it writing as a whole; that he’d never have to write.

Not even an email. Didn’t have one. Of course I argued back.

It’s another skill to have. You’re 18 you should know how to read and write at a middle school level. Understand that there’s a pause after a period. You’re only limiting yourself further. It will already be tough enough with a record and a weak education. If you can’t even write an email without littering it with errors, you better not mess that CDL up.

Scary.

What really upset me though… it wasn’t his first stint in here. So he’d been lying to me.

I don’t believe he told me what for but he was in juvie for almost a full year in 9th grade. A much longer stint. It’s likely the first stint is what led to his program admission and his missing program led to his short stint this time around, but the decline from engaged, willing to learn, to dismissive and misleading is what worries me.

When he gets out, he’ll be reuniting with his brother, who got out of real prison while Alex was in juvie after doing five years. So hopefully they team up and make sure they remove the negative influences from their lives.

But I haven’t clue how it will shake out for Alex.

“Chris”

He was my first and only student for a few days and I enjoyed working with him.

Calm, polite, respectful. He worked hard, especially in relativity to the rest of the students who wouldn’t even come down.

One day he did a mood board and drew up the American Dream — a house and a family, a car, a football, a new clothing company, and a proud mother and father. Making his family proud may have been the most important thing to him. He echoed it on several occasions and anytime talk of the future was brought up, Chris mentioned making Mom and Dad proud of him.

Turns out there was a reason for that.

After days of positive conversation, engaged learning, and board games, I was told why Chris was in the Juvenile Justice Detention Center.

He sexually assaulted a young family member.

It floored me.

He was such a nice, normal kid. At least on the surface. As you can probably imagine, it was tough for me to look at him the same for the rest of the summer.

Statistics tend to indicate he might have suffered the same abuse. I told myself the same to feel better about the situation.

He could read and write half decently. He picked up algebra quickly. Although he did refuse to participate on several of the days. He always talked about doing= the right things once he got out.

What Can We Do?

The only thing to do with these kids is to offer them as many resources as possible, encourage them to do their best, and provide some accountability. Beyond that, family and friends need to do their best to offer them the same from the moment their born.

I’m 110% sure that a bunch of those kids are in there because that’s all they know. Their brother stole cars. Their sister scammed. Their dad was in jail. Their friends asked them if they wanted to lift a Hyundai and they joined them on the wrong day.

Their parents failed them.

Their surroundings failed them.

Their schools failed them.

Their city failed them.

It all starts at home.

If they’ve got one.

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