Teens ‘Jailed’ but Don’t Go Behind Bars : Surveillance Device Keeps Youths Home

One long, hot night in San Fernando Valley Juvenile Hall was one too many for 17-year-old Ralph--lousy food, an uncomfortable bed and tough kids serving time for crimes that made his assault and battery charge seem tame.

In the morning, he was offered the option of going home for six weeks until his court hearing. The choice was easy, even though he would have to wear an electronic surveillance device as part of a pioneer Los Angeles County pilot program that is among the first in the state and nation involving juveniles.

But there have been many days when he has regretted his choice.

‘Like Teasing You’

“This is like teasing you to make a mistake. The hall is boredom, but this is torture,” Ralph said. (The names of juvenile offenders were changed in this article because they are minors.)

Over the past few years, such electronic leashes have gained notoriety through their widespread use on slumlords and other adult offenders sentenced to house arrest. The monitors warn a computer and authorities if the wearer tampers with the device or strays more than 150 feet from a transmitter attached to his telephone.

But it was not until this spring that the county began experimenting with requiring juvenile offenders from the Valley region--which also includes Malibu, Calabasas, Agoura, Glendale and Burbank--to wear surveillance devices during the weeks before their cases are resolved. Similar programs exist in Orange and Riverside counties.

So far, 21 boys and one girl have been released from San Fernando Valley Juvenile Hall in Sylmar wearing the ankle monitors.

Critics variously describe the practice as either too punitive or not tough enough. Many question whether young people can be trusted to obey the rules of home arrest, which include no alcohol or drugs and no fraternizing with fellow troublemakers, including gang members. Indeed, one juvenile offender participating in the program has fled and is still missing.

“Part of the whole idea about juvenile hall is that it’s supposed to show them what institutional life is going to be like if they don’t straighten up,” said Deputy Dist. Atty. Shellie Samuels, a member of the hard-core gang unit. “I’m not sure staying at home, even with restrictions, really does that.”

Many of the kids and their parents are skeptical, too. One mother said she begged probation officers to keep her 14-year-old son, John, in juvenile hall to “teach him a lesson.”

But with Los Angeles County juvenile halls about 50% over capacity, county officials are already talking about expanding the program, hailing it as an essential tool of the future. Systemwide, the county has 1,300 spaces for about 1,900 juvenile offenders, Probation Department spokesman Ray Berger said. In Sylmar, there is room for 399 youths, but at least 500 are housed there.

‘Really Good Option’

“I used to think, ‘Gee, that sounds like “1984,’ ” but when you think about being in a juvenile hall that’s way over capacity, with really hard-core kids, then this can be a really good option,” said Michael Lindsay, the county’s director of intake and detention control.

And financial considerations are also a factor, county officials said. It costs about $61 a day to house a youth at juvenile hall and $15 a day to send him or her home with an electronic device.

A proposal for extending the program to youths in at least one of the other two county juvenile halls may be presented to the Board of Supervisors later this year, Lindsay said.

Beyond the practical, people who work with juvenile offenders around the state say youths may learn more about how to live a clean life outside the juvenile hall.

“The greatest benefit is putting the individual back in the environment where they’re going to be living,” said Jim Belter, supervising probation officer in Orange County. “The experience in the institutional setting is forgotten all too soon. It’s other-worldly.”

And some of the youths say wearing the ankle monitors gives them a welcome excuse to turn down offers that could get them into trouble.

“I’ve had a lot of chances to be truant, but I just say no,” said John, 14, charged with breaking into his neighbor’s house. “I tell my friends, ‘First of all I don’t want to. And second, I have this device on and it’ll tell.’ ”

Not Hard-Core Criminals

In all but one case, participants in the Sylmar program have not been hard-core criminals charged with shootings, stabbings or selling large quantities of drugs. Minors charged with such crimes are kept at juvenile hall pending disposition of their cases.

Nor are the participants charged in the most trivial cases--such as curfew violations or possession of alcohol. Such youths are released to their parents until their cases come up in court.

Instead, they are somewhere in the middle. Their crimes range from burglary and auto theft to vandalism, assault and small-time drug sales. A few might have been allowed to go home anyway pending trial. But most, Lindsay said, would have been incarcerated at juvenile hall.

If participants are in school or working, their monitors are programmed to switch off during the day. Probation officers then make impromptu visits to school or job sites.

At least a third of the juveniles involved in the pilot program have been youth gang members, said Anne Kurosumi, supervising deputy probation officer.

In fact, a Colorado company, BI Inc., lent Los Angeles the $75,000 worth of electronic equipment for the pilot program because of gang activity here.

Company Vice President Vince Stinton said probation officials in many parts of the country have shied away from testing the electronic-leash system with minors. He said his company deduced that those officials might change their minds if the system is successful in Los Angeles.

“Because of the gang war situation in Los Angeles, we thought that would be an excellent place to start,” Stinton said.

There have been a few mechanical problems since the pilot program’s birth May 11. The first transmitter was improperly attached and broke open while a participant was taking a shower; a telephone malfunction prevented another monitor from working correctly; one boy’s back yard cottage bedroom was too far from the telephone in the main house.

3 of 22 Violate Probation

Yet just three of the 22 participants have violated probation. And of those, probation officers consider only one case an outright failure.

Fernando, a 16-year-old Van Nuys gang member and a suspected passenger in a car involved in a fatal drive-by shooting, was released on electronic surveillance in mid-July by a juvenile court commissioner. Evidence to support murder charges against him had weakened, Kurosumi said, and he already had been in juvenile hall for four months because of hearing delays.

The boy disappeared the next day and has not yet been found.

“Obviously it didn’t work that time,” said Deputy Dist. Atty. Samuels, who is prosecuting the case.

Samuels said she had hoped to make accessory-to-murder charges stick because a witness had agreed to testify that Fernando brought him the gun to hide after the shooting. Roberto Sanchez, 16, was killed and two others were injured in the March shooting. Two older boys--one of them the alleged triggerman--are scheduled to go to trial on murder charges in November.

There was no mechanical failure with Fernando’s device, said Elizabeth Davis, supervising deputy probation officer. Records show his telephone transmitter notified the juvenile hall computer that he was missing. But officers dispatched to his house could not find him.

Another boy, charged with drug use, was caught drinking with friends the first night he was assigned to wear a device. He was picked up by police and returned to juvenile hall. The third repeatedly broke his transmitter but was never caught violating probation, officials said.

Joseph B. Vaughn, assistant professor of criminal justice at Central Missouri State University, has researched electronic surveillance for several years. His most recent study, published in May, looked at the use of the electronic leashes for juvenile offenders in eight cities across the country.

The rate of failure in Los Angeles County--about 14%--falls in the middle, he said. Rates range from a low of 4.5% in Riverside County to a high of 30% in programs in North Carolina and Texas.

Lack of Sanctioned Activities

One problem more common among juveniles than adults is a lack of other sanctioned activities that can take them out of the house, Vaughn said, especially during summer vacation.

“If you’re an adult, you’re out working, so you’re out of the house eight hours at least,” he said. “If you’re a juvenile, you may be restricted to the house 24 hours a day. It’s like being grounded. Remember how hard it was to stay home?”

Most of the youngsters interviewed in Los Angeles do sit home all day. They watch television until they can recite soap opera plot lines, mimic cartoon voices and sing advertising jingles. They play cards. They smoke. If they are lucky, friends visit them from time to time. Many are dropouts from school. If they are really fortunate, their parents ask for permission from probation officers to take them to a family gathering, to church or to the doctor.

John, the 14-year-old from Van Nuys, said fellow students are nice to him at school but most avoid him after classes. Another 14-year-old, from Canoga Park--who was picked up on assault charges at a city park--said none of his friends have contacted him since his arrest and release on electronic surveillance.

Vaughn said such ostracism is not unusual and may have positive results.

“We see a change in relationships because the child is now at home all the time,” he said. “They’re typically running with a fast crowd, a street crowd that doesn’t want to come over and watch TV or play Parcheesi. All of a sudden they see that these aren’t such good friends.”

Ralph has had many visitors, but his father complains that the device makes parents prisoners, too. Before the juvenile’s release, a parent or guardian must sign papers promising to watch over the youth when he is home.

‘Worse on Me’

“It’s worse on me than it is him,” the father said. “His friends come over. Mine used to come to get me, and I’d leave. . . . It’s like I’m in prison, too.”