Closing Youth Prisons Is Not Enough

Ella Baker Center
5 min readOct 1, 2021

By Marlene Sanchez, Deputy Director of the Ella Baker Center

Marlene Sanchez, Deputy Director of the Ella Baker Center, and Nicole Lee, Executive Director of Urban Peace Movement, hold a sign that reads “Transformation Not Incarceration” at a protest outside the Alameda County Probation office in Oakland.

As a parent who was involved in the juvenile system as a teenager, I know too well that children who are struggling should never be incarcerated and treated like criminals. Instead they should be cared for as young people in need of restorative help. Now is the time to embrace human rights and racial justice by moving from a carceral system of punishment to a community-based health system of restorative care, and prioritize the needs of the families most impacted. “We have a system in place that is not really focused on rehabilitation,” Los Angeles State Senator Sydney Kamlager told CalMatters in January. Unlike some states, we have not had a governing body in California to oversee trauma-responsive, culturally informed services for youth — the majority of whom are youth of color — in the juvenile justice system.

Fortunately, we in California finally have a chance to make a change. California Senate Bill 823, signed by Governor Newsom last December, shuts down California’s Division of Juvenile Justice (DJJ) and redirects millions of dollars to counties to provide care and resources for young people. But without a plan to invest in and institute a restorative justice framework, most of that money might find its way back into local youth jails rather than into treatment and rehabilitation. Studies show that Alameda County currently spends $23,000 to place a young person on probation, while restorative justice practices have a one-time cost of $4,500.

Sonya Abbott and her son Anthony Johnson can attest that a transformation is long overdue. When Anthony was 16, Sonya found a bag of Xanax in his back pocket. Believing that he intended to sell the drugs, she made the difficult decision to turn him in. At the time, she viewed her decision as a way to save her son’s life, and the lives of others. Now she says, “I feel like it just made things worse. ”

As is too often the case, Anthony was cycled through a number of ineffective programs and has been shuttled back and forth among several facilities. When the COVID-19 pandemic hit and the DJJ went into lockdown, Anthony was at the N. A. Chaderjian Youth Correctional Facility. Feeling lonely and depressed because of the isolation, Anthony asked for extra counseling.

“They refused to give it to me. They laughed at me,” Anthony says.

Anthony attempted suicide roughly two days later. He remembers a Chaderjian staff member witnessing his suicide attempt and saying, “You’re not doing it right, I’ll call this one in later,” then walking away. Afterwards, Anthony was kept in the medical unit for a month, locked in a room for 23 hours a day, without any counseling or companionship.

Throughout all of this, the DJJ did not inform Sonya of her son’s suicide attempt, nor his consequent transfer to Patton State Hospital. After Anthony missed a scheduled Skype visit, Sonya had to call every juvenile facility in California to locate him, and only then learned that he had tried to take his own life. He remains at Patton today.

Statistics show that suicide and suicide attempts are too common. According to a 2014 report from Office of Juvenile Justice and Delinquency Protection, “Eleven percent of the youth (in the juvenile justice system) had attempted suicide at least once,” far exceeding the percentage in the general population.

Nor are the dangers of youth incarceration justified by the outcomes. A 2015 study from the University of Washington, observed that, “juvenile incarceration is not only ineffective at reducing criminal behavior,” but that those who were incarcerated in their youth were more likely to suffer negative consequences in every aspect of their adult lives.

Sonya describes Anthony as a good kid, who just got himself a little lost. “I don’t understand why there’s no resources for these kids,” she says. “They are just locked up and forgotten. I can’t let my kid be one of their victims.”

Purple background with a young person standing and painting the slogan “We Keep Us Safe.” Purple and blue text reads, Alameda County has a critical opportunity to implement a community-led process to reimagine and redesign the county’s approach to youth justice.
Graphic by Emma Li.

We now have an unprecedented opportunity to chart a new direction, but only if families like Sonya’s are a part of the reimagining process . Part of SB 823 creates Juvenile Justice Coordinating Councils (JJCC) in each of our 58 California counties, bringing together experts and constituents like Sonya and Anthony, whose lives have intersected with the juvenile justice system. These new councils will help guide how the millions in new state funding can best be deployed to provide a continuum of care. To inform that process, youth advocates have been working to implement a community vision of care to replace the old carceral model that has failed so many of our most vulnerable young people of color. Community input is invaluable to creating that vision of care, and advocates have been pushing the council to prioritize the voices and experiences of formerly incarcerated youth, their families and community members.

Advocates are also pushing the state to properly resource the new department within Health and Human Services (HHS) that will provide oversight for the new system. The proposed budget is a woefully inadequate $3 million; Assemblymember Cristina Garcia and Senator Maria Elena Durazo, joined by the California Alliance for Youth and Community Justice and members of the Free Our Kids Coalition, are pushing for a larger allocation to help scale up community based interventions by local groups. If a community system rooted in healing had already been in place, Sonya Abbott and Anthony might have received the help they really needed. We can give real meaning to reimagining youth justice by centering the voices of families like Sonya and Anthony, and providing the care and healing that our young people need. We can do better for our kids and our communities.

Families can stay connected with the Free Our Kids Coalition on Instagram.

Marlene Sanchez is the Deputy Director of the Ella Baker Center for Human Rights. Marlene came to community work at age 15 looking for employment and a way out of streets and the juvenile justice system. Marlene has worked with the Young Women’s Freedom Center, Communities United for Restorative Youth Justice (CURYJ), and is a founding member of All of Us or None (AOUON) and Alliance for Girls, where she served as the Interim Executive Director.

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Ella Baker Center

The Ella Baker Center for Human Rights builds the power of black, brown, and poor people to break the cycles of incarceration and poverty.