Tough love: Juvenile offenders say some discipline goes too far

By Stacey Range
Lansing State Journal

One boy laughed while refusing to shovel snow.

Another mocked his counselors, repeating everything they said and refusing to quiet down so his bunkmates could sleep.

A third teen punched his teacher in the eye and then bit the teacher's chest as the teacher held his arms.

Such frustrating, sometimes violent scenes are common in Michigan's juvenile detention and treatment centers. Dealing with defiant young offenders is made even more difficult by a vague state rule that gives little guidance on how to handle the situations - at least not until a mistake is made.

Unlike most government-regulated industries, Michigan has no clear outline of what is and is not accepted when restraining out-of-control kids in youth institutions.

A state administrative rule simply prohibits "cruel and severe discipline" and "excessive chemical, mechanical or physical restraint."

Nowhere does it detail what that entails.

"It leaves too much open for interpretation, and when you have a lack of policy, there is more room for error," said Fred Woelmer, director of the Genesee Valley Regional Center and vice president of the Michigan Juvenile Detention Association. "It makes a difficult job even more difficult."

But for the first time in more than 30 years, that rule is up for review this summer by state officials.

Those in the juvenile justice field hope to see significant changes made.

Adding weight to their plea are recent problems at the beleaguered Camp Highfields in rural Ingham County where the three above scenarios played out earlier this year.

Counselors' reactions in two of those cases and another led to the suspension of the residential program in February and uncertainty about whether the program will continue.

"Clearly, mistakes were and are made," said Larry Miesner, an adjunct criminal justice professor at Michigan State University and former chief of Michigan's Bureau of Juvenile Justice. "But we need to try to correct those problems and develop policy or oversight to minimize those mistakes in the future."

Little room for error

There isn't much room for mistakes when dealing with emotionally fragile adolescents.

One wrong turn and these already troubled teens will be on a one-way path to prison, Miesner said.

"These kids frequently have been raised with violence," he said. "They see violence on the streets and are basically taught that you deal with stressful situations by being violent."

Treatment centers like Highfields in Onondaga and the Michigan Youth ChalleNGe Academy in Battle Creek offer the chance to change that direction.

Teens in the juvenile justice system already have committed some type of crime.

Highfields, located about 20 miles south of Lansing, took in court-ordered boys ages 12 to 17 who had been convicted of a variety of offenses, including assault, property crimes, alcohol possession and truancy.

"We might be the last stop to turning a child's life around," said Reggie LaGrand, director of the Calhoun County Juvenile Home, another treatment center in Marshall.

LaGrand's center and the Ingham County Youth Center on Jolly Road in Lansing take in even more violent youth who have been charged or convicted of everything from minor probation violations to attempted murder.

Youth counselors dealing with the troubled teens - some as large as professional fighters and often just as violent - are forced to make split-second decisions, weighing sometimes contradictory advice.

For example, some facilities say they are 100 percent hands-free and touch a child only if absolutely necessary to protect the child or others. But one person's definition of necessary may differ greatly from another's, leaving much to the discretion of workers who earn on average $23,000 a year at Highfields.

They are required by law to have just 50 hours of training in their first year and 25 hours a year after that.

"It's not an easy job," said Scott Askegard of Mason, who worked as a house parent at Highfields in the early 1990s.

"Most people who work there do it because they want to help the kids."

Talk first

Doug Reimink has spent the past 24 years counseling kids and now supervises counselors at the Calhoun County center.

Like all such facilities, that center has a policy that restraint can be used only as a last resort. Talking is the primary method of diffusing a volatile situation.

"You have to get to know the kid, and once you do, you can sense when a problem is coming and how to handle it," Reimink said. "A lot of times these situations can be avoided if you take the time to talk to a kid."

But sometimes, force is needed, he said.

He had a situation about three months ago when a kid upset about a timeout started throwing punches and chairs at a counselor.

Reimink came up on the kid from behind and grabbed him in a big bear hug, technically known as an upper torso hold. The counselor left the room, and Reimink was able to calm the boy by talking to him about his problems.

"It wouldn't have done much good to use any more force than that," Reimink said. "And it wasn't needed."

James Gale, director of the Office of Children and Adult Licensing for the Michigan Department of Human Services, said good training at the agency level lets counselors know when and how to use restraint.

"You're going to have probably in facilities across the state on a regular basis children that are acting out," Gale said. "Staff have to make a decision on whether the child is at risk to himself or to others."

Each of Michigan's 225 facilities licensed to take in juvenile delinquents is expected to develop its own policies on using restraints, including mechanical devices, such as handcuffs and ankle shackles.

Most follow one of about a dozen behavior management programs. All call for verbal de-escalation first and restraint as a last resort, as does state law.

But, Woelmer said, lack of a clear standard on proper physical restraint can lead to problems for youth and staff safety as well as agency liability.

"It would be better and safer for everyone if there was something showing that a facility is using an approved method," he said. "It adds one more layer of approval to keep kids safe."

Contact Stacey Range at 377-1157 or srange@lsj.com.