Ruminations of an Old Goat

Every now and then, most everyone feels overwhelmed by the events in their lives. Unfortunately, it's been one of those times lately for me as my wife and I try desperately to figure out how to get through to our foster son. Lately, it's seems like every time I start feeling overwhelmed, life steps in with a handy little lesson showing me that things still could be worse. I got one of those lessons last week.

Just a few days after Christmas break ended, our foster son decided to take a knife to school. Anyone with a child in a public school knows that in this post-Columbine world, that's a major issue. He didn't do anything with the knife other than show it off in the restroom, but word got out and he was confronted by a school official and the school resource officer (that's educationese for the police officer assigned to the school). Our foster son turned the knife over without any fuss but a report had to be filed with Juvenile Justice. I had to take him to meet with a counselor down there for evaluation. That's when things got a bit sticky.

The foster was totally unconcerned about the possible ramifications of his actions. This was more than just a 14 year old boy trying to act "cool," something the counselor and I both recognized. After spending an hour of trying and failing to get some indication that the foster understood and cared about what might happen, the counselor sent the foster out to the waiting room. We talked and agreed a court date might be just the thing to put some "fear of God" into the boy.

The court date was last week. It's where life stepped in with its little lesson for me. Life carefully taught me that, bad as things might be for me, I am way ahead in the game compared to many people. I sat through eight cases in juvenile court last week, including my foster son's case. These are some of the things I saw.

A very tall, very pretty fifteen year old girl was there for a probation violation. He father sat right in front of me as the judge spoke to the girl. As the judge pointed out her obvious talents and bright future, the girl's father nodded his head and wiped tears from his eyes. The girl looked ashamed of what she was putting her family through. After receiving a warning from the judge, she left with her family gathered about her. Of all the kids the judge saw that morning, she's the one I'd be willing to bet will come out okay.

In sharp contrast, there was a boy who had violated his probation for the fourth or fifth time. As he was about to be taken off to juvenile detention, the prosecutor asked that the court order include orders to the parents that they must take their child to therapy sessions, meetings with his probation officer, etc. The prosecutor requested this because the parents had not been doing their part in the past. The judge had to explain to them that they would face 30 days in jail if they failed to follow the court order. What kind of parent requires a court order to do what's needed to get help for your child?

A 13 year old boy was appearing before the judge for the eighth time. Multiple attempts had been made to get him the kind of help he needed, only to be thwarted by the boy's mother. She claimed that each time she was sure he'd had enough and was going to start being good. She seemed to be believe it, too. I think the judge got through to her in his lecture. I think maybe she understands that she's just enabling her son's slide into a life of crime. I hope so.

I watched a court appointed attorney defend a boy for the sixth time. The attorney was obviously anguished that none of his previous work had worked. While discussing past attempts to reform the boy, the attorney eventually just ran out of words. The boy was one of the ones taken off to juvenile detention.

I watched a girl stand before the judge, seemingly not caring that she was about to be locked up for two and a half weeks for yet another probation violation. Her parents hardly seemed to be paying attention to the proceedings.

I watched as the judge told a mother whose son was locked up that the wrong person was behind bars. The boy, who was waiting for a spot to open in a group home, seemed happy to be in juvenile detention rather than going home.

I listened to the judge lecture my foster son. The judge noted how articulate the foster was when speaking and how the judge didn't have to drag the word "sir" out of him when responding to questions. I listened as the judge told him the same thing my wife, his uncles, close friends and I have all told him; that he can have a bright future if he'd just aim for it. I was pleased when the judge, who apparently visits the local schools as time permits, told the foster he'd make a point of talking to him next time the judge visited the foster's school.

I was amazed at the dedication and devotion showed by the entire court staff. The prosecutors and the defense attorneys worked together rather than against each other, trying to find the right approach to get through to these kids. The judge obviously cared about each and every child who came before him. I could see the compassion clear as day on his face as he tried to hammer through indifference with words alone. God only knows how those people can get up and face work every morning. It takes more strength than I'll ever have.

In the end, I went from feeling ground down by the responsibilities of family to a better understanding of what happens when people ignore those responsibilities. And I realized that, for all of the problems in my life, things could most definitely be much worse.