Louisiana's distorted view of juvenile delinquency shows focus needs to be on solutions rather than individuals • Louisiana Illuminator

During this election season, I have been thinking a lot about what our voting decisions can say about how we see ourselves as a state, as a nation, and as individuals, and how that self-image is reflected in our attitudes toward crime and punishment.

I've always been interested in incarceration, particularly as it relates to Black people, and as I've gotten older, I've become more focused on the incarceration of Black youth. I graduated from Lusher (now The Willow School) in New Orleans and just finished my senior year at UNC-Charlotte.

Over the past few years, I've spent a lot of time writing articles, researching, and giving talks about Black youth. My senior thesis is about the unrealistic nature of stories about Black youth overcoming adversity and how these stories, combined with the unfortunate reality of Black male incarceration, have led to harmful assumptions about solving systemic problems.

Essentially, I argue that American society creates a false image of itself by focusing on individualism and individual characteristics when it comes to crime. But instead of simply praising the youth who succeed or blaming the youth who don't, we should focus on systems: school systems, poverty, privilege and oppression, and access.

When we look at Louisiana, we find that we incarcerate our youth at a rate of 84 per 100,000, compared to the national rate of 39 per 100,000 (US News & World Report). Despite this high incarceration rate, Louisiana ranks 50th in correctional outcomes and 49th in public safety.

So what exactly does incarcerating youth do for our state? We know it contributes to poor mental and physical health, increases the likelihood of further incarceration, and reduces the chance of continuing or completing an education – and we also know it does not contribute to a safer environment (Annie E. Casey Foundation). So the costs outweigh the benefits. However, because we in our society look at these problems individually, we assume that locking these kids up makes the most sense.

If we step back, we can see that while Louisiana ranks so poorly on safety and crime, it also ranks poorly on economy (49th), education (47th), financial stability (41st), infrastructure (49th), and opportunity (44th). In an individualistic view of crime, we ignore that the young people who committed crimes are Louisianans who watched their state crumble while struggling with inadequate financial resources, educational opportunities, and chances for improvement.

Before they became “juvenile delinquents,” as children they realized the truth about their home – that it doesn’t offer them as much as it should.

To put this in perspective, I was working with black and brown youth at an underfunded school in North Carolina, training them in leadership skills. I had a group of sixth graders in high-risk situations, and our first assignment was to have them answer whether they believed they had leadership skills or the potential to be.

The vast majority answered “no” – and here's why. Those who answered “no” added a “I'm a bad kid” twist to that answer. However, none of these kids had done anything particularly “bad” or criminal. Sure, they were late to class or talked too much, but they're 6th grade boys.

As early as sixth grade, marginalized youth with inadequate education and limited opportunities saw themselves as incapable of leadership and had already labeled themselves as “bad.” This self-awareness developed not individually but collectively, illuminating how we see and define ourselves within American society.

We view some children as “bad” and undeserving of opportunities. So while white children are nurtured in school and kept out of the criminal justice system, black and brown children are pushed out of school and sucked into the system. It's easy to just say “lock them up” and not care that the system favors some and not others, just as it's easy to continue to be ranked as one of the worst states in America and one of the states with the highest crime rate.

If we want to get better in Louisiana, we have to do something, and that doesn't mean opening new youth correctional facilities. We have to start investing in communities of color and in schools, just like we invest in our prisons, because if we only spend $11,000 to educate a child, we can't justify spending over $150,000 to have them traumatized in a cell (No Kids in Prison).

We must improve opportunities for all Louisianans, especially educational and economic opportunities. We must look at our youth, especially black and brown youth, positively and give them the opportunities and guidance to grow, learn, and make mistakes. We must recognize that zero tolerance policies in schools and the high incarceration model simply do not work—and have not for a very long time.

As we slowly approach election season and grapple with the fallout from a governor committed to a “tough on crime” approach that basically means “tough on kids,” I urge Louisiana residents to think about who we want to be as a state. And that means we all need to do our research. Of course, I hope everyone votes for candidates who will defend our children and are committed to working with communities on juvenile crime.

But perhaps more importantly, I hope voters vote for a better Louisiana – and not just for themselves. A better Louisiana is better for everyone, not just the powerful or the wealthy. A better Louisiana will address the real issues, the real causes of juvenile delinquency (and adult delinquency), and will be a Louisiana we all want to be in.

You may also like...