One summery Friday night stands out in my memory. I had a house
full of boys, as was typical and my strategy was to read a book
until the wee hours of the morning when everyone quieted down. My
oldest was 16, the next 14 and my youngest was 9. Finally about
midnight, the house settled in and I turned out the light and went
to sleep.
I was awakened at 2:30 a.m. by a pounding on the door. Sleepily
looking through the opening, I was startled at seeing two police
officers standing on my front porch. Now I don’t remember much of
the conversation, but it had something to do with some boys blowing
up something at the local baseball field in our then hometown of
Wheaton, Ill. I assured the police officers that my boys were safely
home in bed. Which they were…. But, earlier in the evening the boys
and friends decided it would be awesome to make a homemade bomb and
blow it up. Unfortunately, they chose to use a locker that housed a
Little League’s baseball team’s equipment. The resulting explosion
damaged the locker and caused some consternation to the home owners
whose houses bordered this park, which resulted in the call to the
police. The “perpetrators” were seen, which led the police to my
house.
This was my first brush with the juvenile justice system. I was
quite happy that my sons were caught early, before they did
something permanently damaging like blowing off a hand or blinding
themselves or others. Since it was a first offence for my son,
it was decided that the best form of justice was for him to serve a
number of hours in “community service” working for the Wheaton Park
District.
If you’re not familiar with the practice of community service, it
began in the 1960s as a solution for communities to reduce the
incarceration of nonviolent offenders and to ease the overcrowding
of jails, prisons and juvenile facilities. Another goal of community
service was for the offender to provide a form of restitution for
the actions which harmed the community. Rather than a punishment
mentality, community service seeks to restore the relationship with
the offended party or the offended community as a whole.
My 16-year-old son spent the summer cleaning bathrooms and doing
general janitorial work for the Park District as he accumulated the
90 hours he was charged with. It did two things for me. It kept him
out of further trouble and he understood the cost of his actions
that steamy summer night.
Today, I volunteer with a local nonprofit Humane Society which
utilizes many community service workers to care for the dogs and
cats. I’ve had interactions with many, many community service
workers. While some are very good, others do the least that is
possible as they attempt to work off the court-ordered hours. Some
are truly repentant and helpful.
Does community service really help the nonprofit or community
organization? Or hurt it?
According to Bryan Canty, executive director for the Etowah
Valley Humane Society (EVHS) in Cartersville, Ga., “Community
service workers are an invaluable asset to EVHS! We operate with a
bare-bones staff. Were it not for their assistance, we, and our
great animals, would suffer tremendously.” Canty added that the
local Cherokee Judicial Circuit, north of Atlanta, has a drug-court
program has an excellent program that he would recommend to any
agency needing supplemental staffing. “Those participants are very
strictly managed and are seeking redemption and reintroduction into
normal life. I took a chance and it has been one of the best
decisions I ever made. All people want is a second chance.”
A few years ago, the U.S. Government Accountability Office (GAO)
estimated the cost of incarceration at nearly 3.5 times that of
someone dealt with through of the drug court system. Georgia’s Gov.
Nathan Deal is looking for alternative justice systems to relieve
the burden on taxpayers. But money isn’t the only motivation for
utilizing diversion programs that are offered through a community
service alternative justice system.
The Cherokee County DUI and Drug Treatment Court has
a newsletter it issues every quarter. Last fall, attorney Barry
Hixon, the chief assistant solicitor wrote this convincing passage:
“Remember that a prosecutor’s primary duty is to the public. The DUI
Court treatment paradigm presents a difficulty for us because it
challenges the way we respond to repeat offenses. Remember that we
see day after day how many bad things humans do to and against one
another. We tend to grow sick and tired of it and to become
hardened. We are tempted to a high-minded self-righteousness and a
quick temper. Our inclination is to throw away the key. I therefore
am the self-described skeptic on our treatment team. Other team
members expect me to be the first to cry “Just lock him up!” And
sometimes that’s the right thing to do.
“But what I’ve learned and continue to learn as I work with our
team is this: many times it’s not the right thing to do.
I’ve seen men and women I was absolutely certain had no chance of
getting through our program succeed beyond my wildest imaginings.
They got sober and stayed sober. I have stood in court and
righteously object to the acceptance of a defendant into the program
only to find later that under the ugly crust of that defendant’s
case was a person just waiting and hoping for the opportunity to
start living again. When this happens other things follow, things
truly wonderful. Families are healed; talents are resurrected and
jobs reinstated; community streets are safer. And the person that
emerges after graduating from the program is someone new.”
