Boot camps reborn
A look at the first recruits
to a new juvenile delinquent academy by the Pinellas County
Sheriff’s Office. The new program uses less confrontational
techniques than traditional juvenile boot camps.
By MELANIE AVE, Times Staff Writer
Published September 9, 2006
The five boys with pursed lips sat
straight backed still in their black and white striped jumpsuits,
like jailbirds. They wore red ball caps with 1, 2, 3, 4 or 5 written
on them.
They were just numbers here, in a
building behind fences covered in barbed wire, just north of the
Pinellas County Jail in Clearwater.
One freckled face 8-year-old sat on
the edge of the chair to keep his feet from dangling as Holly
Grissinger paced back and forth in front him.
“Why you here, 3?’’ asked the
assistant state attorney, her voice booming as she stopped and
glared into the face of a quiet black boy.
“I was physical with my mom,’’ the
10-year-old boy replied.
“Exactly what right do you have,
young man, to be physical with your mother?’’
“No right ma’am.’’
The boys were the first recruits to
a new juvenile delinquent academy debuted by the Pinellas County
Sheriff’s Office on Saturday.
The new program uses less
confrontational techniques than traditional juvenile boot camps.
Gone are the military-like commands and marching drills.
It is available to troubled
children between the ages of 7 and 17. The Sheriff’s Training and
Respect, or STAR, Weekend Program is a scaled-down version of a boot
camp.
Its goal is to prevent at-risk kids
from becoming criminals.
“This is an opportunity to get
involved with the kids before they get involved with the criminal
justice system,’’ said Sheriff Jim Coats. “We’re here to tell them
there are expectations for being law abiding citizens.
“There are consequences if you’re
not.’’
Unlike traditional boot camps, the
children have not yet been convicted of crimes in most cases.
Of the five children there on
Saturday, most of them had prior problems with anger, respect and
poor grades. At least two of them had suffered some prior abuse. One
10-year-old had been in a group home because of his defiant
behavior.
The sheriff’s office said the
8-year-old tried to suffocate his 5-year-old brother and punched his
pregnant mother, and the 15-year-old frequently skipped school and
was verbally abusive.
Located at the county’s shuttered
boot camp facility at 14500 49th St. N, the program is free and open
to Pinellas County children, girls and boys. Parents or guardians
must participate.
Up to 25 children spend one
Saturday at STAR, from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. They wear the jumpsuits, get
fingerprinted and photographed.
They go through some physical
training, described by Coats as similar to a school gym class.
Instructors talk about the criminal justice system, drug use and
anger management.
Toward the end of the day, they and
their parents are given individual and group counseling.
One key is the follow-up.
Staff members keep tabs on the
children for six months in quasi-mentor relationship. They make sure
the children attend school, avoid violent outbursts, stay away from
drugs and mind their parents.
The lack of follow-up, Coats said,
is the reason the old-styled boot camp failed. This spring a study
found that 666 of the 740 youths who attended the camp were arrested
afterward.
“These kids are very intensely
supervised or monitored to make sure they are fulfilling their
obligation and responsibilities in what they agreed to do,’’ he
said, “like going to school on time, improving their grades ...
dealing with anger management issues.’’
The Pinellas County Boot Camp
closed in June in the fallout from the Jan. 6 death of Martin Lee
Anderson. The 14-year-old died one day after he was roughed up by
guards at the Bay County boot camp.His death caused an outcry about
the harsh physical restraint techniques and intimidation used at the
camps.
In May, Gov. Jeb Bush signed the
Martin Lee Anderson Act into law requiring the conversion of
military-like boot camps to new STAR programs that prohibit physical
contact.
Coats closed the Pinellas boot
camp, saying he the state Department of Juvenile Justice didn’t
provide enough money for it.
The new Pinellas program has
received one year funding of $100,000 from the state Juvenile
Justice Department and $200,000 from the county commission.
“As long as we have students, we’ll
run the program,’’ Coats said.
Back inside the room with the boys,
Grissinger kept her questions and lecture going.
“2, why you here?’’
“I stole,’’ the boy said.
“Why did you steal?’’ she asked.
All the boy could say was, “I don’t
know.’’
“I guess you should write me a
letter and tell me what I should tell your mom when I send you to
prison when you keep stealing stuff, because that’s where you’re
going to go,’’ she said. “You tell me what I should tell your
mother? Tell me?’’
Again. “I don’t know.’’
But Grissinger ended with some
hope. “This is your chance,’’ she told them. “Unless you want to
come see me in adult court and face the consequences. Here’s the
time for you to make the choice.’’
Melanie Ave can be reached at (727) 893-8813 or
mave@sptimes.com.
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