In
September of 1999, Chance Films was invited to observe a writing
program at Los Angeles Central Juvenile Hall. What the filmmakers saw
in that writing program inspired them to do a similar program using
video cameras. They saw the need to give the kids in the Hall a voice
that could reach beyond the walls that separated them from free
society. What they didn’t know was that teaching basic video production
skills and interviewing techniques was going to link them irrevocably
to these 12 kids and a cause that most people would turn their backs
on: correcting the juvenile justice system and making it one that is
run with intelligence, responsibility and mercy.
The
filmmakers were naïve to juvenile justice, thinking children were
handled fairly and with care, not only for their safety, but also for
the safety of the public at large. What they found was that scores of
children were getting thrown away in adult prisons instead of staying
in the rehabilitative environment of the juvenile system, a structure
originally designed to protect them from ending up in the adult
system.With the help of cameramen, producers, friends and a passionate
nun, the video production class began in earnest in September 1999. At
first, the administrators of the Hall were receptive, but cautious.
After showing up two times a week for a few months, they realized this
crew was really there to help the kids reach into themselves and out to
others who were on the cusp of being pulled into the system. That
didn’t make working within the system any easier, however. As the
histories of these individual kids came to light in the class, the
filmmakers realized there was more than a class happening here, there
was a story to be told, a story that had the potential to impact
thousands of people. They began working to garner all the approvals
necessary to put these kids on camera and be able to use their stories
to educate others about the system and how to avoid falling into it.
The kids involved in the class were all chosen at random, based on very
specific criteria:1. They had to be getting tried as adults;
2. They had to be facing long-term sentences;
3. They had to be under 18 so that they would continue to be housed at
Juvi for as long as possible to get the most out of the class; and
4. The filmmakers had to get signed consents from the kids, their
parents and their attorneys.The first group of kids was taught in the
library of the boys’ school, with natural lighting and two cameras.
This was the only program to allow a mix of boys and girls in the same
class. Many times, the filmmakers would arrive prepared to teach and
the kids were not available. Other times, they would work with only one
or two of the kids. The participation of the kids was iffy at best,
given individual court appearance requirements, availability of staff
to be on premises with the kids and lack of communication amongst the
Juvenile Hall staff.As time progressed, the kids were being tried,
convicted and sent on to County Jail or State Prison. As the kids were
sentenced to long terms and even life behind bars, the filmmakers were
getting their own education. The naivete began to fall away and the
truth of the failing juvenile justice system was making itself known.
In May of 1999, high school student Duc was arrested for driving a car
from which a gun was shot. Although no one was injured, Duc was not a
member of a gang, had no priors and was 16 years old, he received a
sentence of 35 years to life.Fourteen-year-old Anait, an Armenian
immigrant, had been given a car by her parents. She drove two boys to a
high school and dropped them off. The boys got into a fight with
another boy and subsequently killed a third boy who attempted to break
up the fight. Because she was the driver of the “getaway” car, Anait
was charged as an accessory to first-degree murder and originally faced
200 years. She has since taken a deal and is serving 7 years.Then
there’s Mayra, a girl raised in the gangs, who at 16 was asked by her
gang to kill a girl who had broken one of their rules. She was sleeping
with a boy from a rival gang. Mayra shot this girl, did not kill her,
but paralyzed her for life. This girl was her best friend. Mayra
received Life plus 25 years for her crime and had a baby while in
juvenile hall. She has gotten to see her son two times since his birth.
He is now 3 years old.At first the filmmakers thought these cases were
the exception, but as time went by and all the kids were convicted and
sentenced to adult prison facilities with long sentences, they began to
realize this was the rule.
Being
tough on crime is one thing. But trying children as adults, and
dispensing brutal sentences that are shockingly out of proportion to
the offense, is quite another. Most Americans would say this can’t
happen here, yet for thousands of young people, this is the reality of
the present day juvenile justice system, which has turned its back on
its initial mission to protect young people and now sends over 200,000
kids through the adult system each year.
