VisionQuest Ready to Open California Reform School Sites

VisionQuest, the controversial private reform program that handles dozens of San Diego County’s juvenile delinquents at an Arizona facility, is close to obtaining a license to operate its wilderness camps in California.

After years of give-and-take and several weeks of intense negotiations, VisionQuest and state officials are nearing a unique agreement to allow the program to open shop in California for the first time, both sides said in interviews last week.

Key to the deal--if it is consummated--will be VisionQuest’s decision to abandon the use of physical confrontation as part of a technique to get troubled youths to face problems that are at the root of their delinquency.

For its part, the state Department of Social Services has agreed to waive other regulations that would prevent the Arizona-based VisionQuest from operating the wilderness camps or adventuresome wagon train treks for which it has become nationally known.

The company is preparing to buy land in the Sierra foothills of Northern California and hopes to open a camp for at least 100 youths by the end of 1987, said Jack Germain, who has been handling the negotiations with the state as a consultant for VisionQuest.

“I believe at this point there has been some general agreement that we’re over the hump. There doesn’t seem to be any reason now to believe the remaining problems can’t be solved,” Germain said. “We believe we can accomplish it this year.”

San Diego County officials have long hoped for VisionQuest and other alternative youth programs to be licensed in California. With long waiting lists for county institutions and a reluctance to place delinquents in the California Youth Authority, Juvenile Court judges and top probation officers would prefer to send youths to private rehabilitation programs close to home.

But VisionQuest, which now has about 95 San Diego County youths in its Arizona program and more than 700 delinquents in its programs nationwide, has been unable to obtain a license in California because the company’s mobile operation and its reform techniques do not fit the state’s model for residential group homes.

Many probation officers and criminal justice experts have also questioned VisionQuest’s claim that it can do better than traditional, less-costly programs at rehabilitating young criminals. VisionQuest receives about $35,000 a year from the state and counties for each youth placed in its custody.

More than anything else, though, it has been VisionQuest’s use of boot camp-style tactics, including physical force at times, that has made the program the subject of years of hot political debate.

The death of 16-year-old Mario Cano of Chula Vista at a VisionQuest camp in 1984 spurred allegations of child abuse against the program and prompted the county’s Juvenile Court to suspend placements of local youths in the program. At one time, county probation and social service officials recommended severing the county’s contract with VisionQuest and bringing all San Diego youths home.

But after a U.S. Justice Department investigation concluded that VisionQuest had made several improvements to counter criticism--particularly of its medical care--county supervisors decided to renew the contract, and the court in late 1985 began again to refer San Diego delinquents to the program as an alternative to incarceration. Under the agreement, VisionQuest cannot initiate physical confrontation with San Diego youths.

VisionQuest, meanwhile, has been vigorously pursuing attempts to be licensed in California, a move which, if successful, is expected to spur interest in the program from several California counties that refuse to send their wards of the court out of the state for rehabilitation.

VisionQuest’s first application for a license was denied by the state in 1985. The company also tried, through the Legislature, to gain the right to operate by being exempted from certain regulations. At various times, VisionQuest has employed lobbyist and former San Diego legislator Bob Wilson and the public relations firm of Bobbie Metzger, who is a former press secretary to former Gov. Edmund G. Brown Jr. and Assembly Speaker Willie Brown (D-San Francisco).

Company officials would not disclose how much the licensing effort has cost VisionQuest. But Michael Cracovaner, VisionQuest’s administrative director, said the amount was “much too much.”

About a year ago, VisionQuest hired Germain, a veteran legislative aide who had worked for the Department of Social Services for a year. Germain’s partner at the time was John Qatsha, another former department official and husband of Department of Social Services Director Linda McMahon. After their firm, GQ Associates, recommended that VisionQuest drop its legislative efforts and concentrate on the administrative route, Germain and Qatsha split up and Germain alone continued to work for VisionQuest.

Germain insists that his status as a former department staff member did not give him any undue influence over the licensing process. But he said his relationships with both VisionQuest and state officials did allow him to make each side in the long-running dispute feel more comfortable talking to the other.

His goal, Germain said, was to get the department to move from its position that VisionQuest could never be licensed as long as it did things that were not allowed in the current regulations.

“The basic problem we were faced with was that the regulations in place were written exclusively to deal with bricks-and-mortar-type, conventional group home programs,” Germain said. “What you end up with when VisionQuest comes and talks to the department about getting licensed is a square peg trying to get into a round hole.”

For example, Germain said, state regulations might require a certain number of toilets be provided inside a home for every so many youths. Such a rule would automatically disqualify VisionQuest’s wilderness program or wagon train trek because the programs use tepees, not houses, and portable toilet facilities. Similar obstacles were found in rules about food service, beds and other everyday matters.

Rather than simply submit another application and have it rejected, VisionQuest and state officials agreed to go through a unique process which they called a “mock application.” VisionQuest submitted the application knowing it would not be accepted, and the state’s licensing staff went through it line by line, telling VisionQuest which parts of its program failed to fulfill state requirements and, in some cases, negotiating compromises.

Fred Miller, deputy director of the Department of Social Services, said he assigned the equivalent of two department staff members for three weeks to work with VisionQuest on its application. Miller said he did so with hopes of resolving the years of controversy over VisionQuest’s attempts to be licensed.

“I requested this process to eliminate or to bring to conclusion whether or not we were going to license VisionQuest in the state of California,” Miller said.

Miller said he has insisted from the start that his office would never allow VisionQuest to use physical confrontations with the youths as part of its treatment program.

“One of the things VisionQuest did was that if they thought a child was going to act out, they would encourage that episode so that it could be dealt with,” Miller said. “Dealing with that often included the physical confrontation. That is not an acceptable program.”

Germain contends that VisionQuest’s use of confrontation tactics has been overemphasized. He said the confrontations are relatively rare and occur only under a controlled and programmed chain of events in which several staff members attempt to prompt a youth to talk about something that is bothering him. Yet he characterizes the firm’s agreement to abandon the practice as a major concession.

“For a long time, VisionQuest dug in their heels and refused to consider (changing policy),” Germain said. “They didn’t want to change it. They wouldn’t apologize for it. They saw it as a very positive and constructive thing to do because it was an integral part of their program.

“But it was clear the department was taking the position that under no circumstances could they allow that kind of activity to go on in California,” Germain said. “Ultimately, the VisionQuest leadership came to the conclusion it was not going to irreparably alter the basic tenets of VisionQuest to make a commitment to rid themselves of that particular practice.”

With that obstacle out of the way, the remainder of the negotiations have been relatively simple, Germain said. Though some issues remain unresolved, he said the application VisionQuest ultimately submits--perhaps within two months--will in effect already have the department’s tentative approval.

Miller said the process used to iron out the state’s differences with VisionQuest will serve as a prototype for handling applications from other alternative reform programs.

“If we get an application we will know the process we want to use,” Miller said. “If we get four or five or six applications of this type, we should be able to develop a generalized package that will capture most of this.”

Probation officials, including some who have been critical of VisionQuest, said they would welcome the program’s presence in California. Cecil Steppe, San Diego County’s chief probation officer, said he would be “very pleased” if VisionQuest’s efforts were successful.

“I would rather have something in this state than send staff and youngsters off to any other state,” Steppe said. “It’s a problem of being able to supervise kids from a distance. I have to send my staff in to see our kids and see how they’re doing.”