Pubdate: Fri, 23 Aug 2002 Source: Hartford Courant (CT) Copyright: 2002 The Hartford Courant Contact: http://www.ctnow.com/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/183 Author: Gregory Seay TEENS IN A GRAY AREA Two years ago, Connecticut passed a law to make it easier for Lu Ann Schneider of Windsor Locks and other parents to get help for their rebellious 16- and 17-year-olds. The "youth in crisis" legislation was supposed to give parents, police, and the courts a way to rein in troubled teens. The law's goal was to get these "gray area" teens - no longer children, not legally adults - the mental-health and drug counseling or job training they need. But since the law took effect July 1, 2001, it has been branded ineffective by some parents, lawmakers, and child- and juvenile- justice advocates. Parts of the law are applied inconsistently and are open to broad interpretation. In particular, a section of the statute giving police authority to locate and retrieve runaway youths is interpreted and applied unevenly, critics say. Unlike a child 15 or younger, a 16- or 17-year-old who runs away from home cannot be forced to return. And although teens cannot drop out of school until 18 without a parent's permission, it isn't illegal to be a truant. Since the law passed, a 16- or 17-year-old who repeatedly runs away or skips more than four days of school in a month or 10 days in a school year can be deemed by the court a "youth in crisis." That declaration can trigger the counseling to get a kid back on track. Questions have been raised, for example, about the way East Hampton police responded to Makayla Korpinen, a runaway 16-year-old who died of an Ecstasy overdose in May. Schneider says her worst fear is that her runaway 17-year-old daughter, Brittany, who used Ecstasy before moving on to other narcotics, her mother says, will wind up dead like Makayla. Some observers say the law gives an inordinate measure of control to the teens it is designed to protect, and it lacks the teeth to hold defiant adolescents accountable. More Than 900 Petitions Filed Anyone, including parents, school officials, police, town officials, and probation officers, may petition the court for youth in crisis intervention. The state's juvenile courts have granted fewer than 5 percent of the more than 900 petitions filed from July 2001 to June 2002. A petition must be granted before a troubled teen has access to services. Hundreds more never got that far because they were either dismissed by the court or withdrawn by the petitioner. The law's advocates point out that some dismissals and withdrawals have favorable results, such as a child agreeing to get counseling. Treatment Services Limited Even those who receive intervention face delays for treatment and counseling because of the juvenile court's limited resources. Lawmakers, in last spring's budget battle, cut about $650,000 from the judicial budget earmarked to provide services to youths in crisis. "It's the lack of programs and services to implement the law which is at the core of the issue," said Martha Stone, who runs the Center for Children's Advocacy at the University of Connecticut School of Law. Schneider says the youth in crisis petition the court granted this summer came too late to help Brittany. After the girl used her parents' ATM card to take $100, her anguished mother filed theft charges. Brittany was arrested Monday and, because of her age, arraigned in adult court. The judge ordered her into the York Correctional Institution in Niantic, where she is undergoing the psychiatric and drug screening she had been waiting to receive in juvenile court. "I'm not trying to be a mean mom," said Schneider, who had to quit work to cope with her child. "But I'm at the end of my rope. I just want her to get help." The issue of how the youth in crisis law is supposed to work - and instances where it hasn't - have surfaced since Makayla became the state's first confirmed Ecstasy overdose. Makayla's Case Troubling Days before she died, Makayla ran away across town to live with her boyfriend and his family. Along with a criminal investigation into Makayla's death, the state is probing whether law enforcement and other public agencies went far enough to place the teen in a safe environment. Makayla's mother, Catherine Korpinen, has publicly declared frustration over her inability to use social-service agencies and police to bring her daughter home. There is no indication that a petition to have Makayla declared a youth in crisis was ever brought. But based on the law's rocky start, some question whether its remedies would have come in time to help her. Rep. Gail K. Hamm, D-East Hampton, has closely followed Makayla's case not only because the girl lived in her district, but because Hamm's law practice and legislative-committee work focus on children's issues. "The lesson we can learn from the tragic death ... is that many of the interventions that were supposed to be in place failed on all levels in her case," Hamm said. Catherine Korpinen is lobbying for elimination of the "gray area" in which the state effectively treats 16- and 17-year-olds as adults. Some key lawmakers are looking to change state law to classify anyone under 18 a juvenile. Youth in crisis emerged from the frustrations of parents whose older teens were runaways or truants. "We did this work for the children, as well as the parents," said Rep. Mary Mushinsky, D-Wallingford, who co-wrote the youth in crisis measure. "Because if you allow a kid to make a bad decision at a young age, they'll pay for it later in life." Law Needs Improvement Mushinsky and other supporters praise the law's intent, but they concede that improvements are needed in the way it's used by the courts, law enforcement and social-service agencies. One area that most agree requires immediate focus is deepening the understanding of police about their duties and responsibilities. Under the law, police, once alerted to a runaway, are allowed to look for and report the teen's location. Police also are permitted, if necessary, to take the teen into protective custody - not arrested, no handcuffs, no jail cell - for no more than 12 hours while they determine whether the teen can return home or becomes a ward of the state. In Makayla's case, when her mother contacted East Hampton police about her runaway daughter, she was reportedly told there was nothing police could do. Catherine Korpinen and her lawyer did not respond to repeated requests for comment. Hamm said she believes police misinterpreted their responsibilities under the crisis law. Hamm said Makayla should have at least been taken into protective custody. Police Chief Matthew Reimondo said his agency never received a formal runaway report on Makayla, adding he stands "by the decisions made by my men." He said, however, that if the state's probe determines his department did something wrong, "then we'll take a closer look at it." Stone says the law's careful phrasing ensures that, in circumstances where an adolescent is fleeing a mentally or physically abusive home, police aren't mandated to return a runaway to that environment. From July 1, 2001, to June 30, 2002, 943 crisis petitions were filed in the state's juvenile courts, according to Judicial Branch data. Of those, only 45 or so received court-ordered supervision. The supervision figures don't reflect the hundreds more petitions that are either dismissed or withdrawn because the court or the parent is convinced that a kid has gotten the message and promises to seek treatment and behave. The volume of cases becomes more stark when divided by judicial district. Data show juvenile courts in New Haven, the Rockville section of Vernon and Waterbury each handled more petitions in 12 months than more populous districts such as Bridgeport and Hartford, which historically have needed more in the way of social services. Numbers Not Whole Story Chief Juvenile Judge Michael Mack cautioned against using the data to draw inferences as to why some districts are more active than others with crisis petitions. "A court doesn't go out knocking on doors, looking for cases," he said. Some observers say the disparity reflects concern in some districts that the combination of the law's lack of teeth and the courts' scarce resources render intervention fruitless. Mack insists that any frustrations of the judges and court staff aren't interfering with the handling and disposition of crisis petitions. "They want it to work," Mack said. "They all are trying." - --- MAP posted-by: Beth