February 18, 1992
By Rick DelVecchio and Ken Hoover, Chronicle Staff Writers
California Problem Kids Get Few Luxuries in
Desert
Schurz, Nev.
Two dozen of California's toughest juvenile offenders are on
their backs in the gray desert sand, grunting their way through leg
lifts.
A couple of adult supervisors get down in the sand with the kids
in a gesture of camaraderie. The supervisors keep their
walkie-talkies just a short grab away, ready to call for help should
things turn ugly.
This is the Rite of Passage camp, where things do turn ugly now
and then. It is a place on the fringes in more ways than one--a tiny
cluster of shack-like buildings amid sagebrush, dry lakebeds and
salt flats, where l3- to l8-year-old boys are sent by California
probation departments for 90 days of highly regimented athletic
training and schooling.
It is billed as a last chance before incarceration for chronic
runaways and rebels.
Rite of Passage became the focus of an investigation by Nevada
law enforcement when Paul Choy, a l5-year-old San Francisco boy, was
critically injured there February 4. Members of the staff said that
he became violent and that he stopped breathing even though they
followed carefully drawn rules on retraining residents.
Choy remains on life support in a Reno hospital. A family friend
says he has been declared brain dead.
His case has rekindled controversy over the benefits of so-called
wilderness programs for troubled teenagers and about probation
departments that send youngsters to other states, outside the range
of state licensing.
Five to seven times per week, a resident becomes so violent he
must be physically restrained.
The camp houses ll0 residents. Their well-being is entrusted to
the 33 "coaches" who work seven-day shifts and bunk with the kids in
plywood-floored Quonset huts.
There are no weapons. Stern discipline, even a raised voice, is
discouraged, say camp supervisors. And the rules are clear: If a
resident acts threateningly, the coach must step back and give the
youth every chance to find a face-saving way out.
"The last thing we want to see is a student losing control." said
shift supervisor John Motley. "Every time we see them make a
mistake, we given them the right choice to make."
Motley said the students are told to "stop, think, act, reflect
on your actions."
It does not always work so neatly. Five to seven times per week,
a resident becomes so violent he must be physically restrained,
Motley said.
Strict rules govern how this is done. One day last week, coaches
practiced the camp's restraint technique. It looks easy. One man
claps the other under the arms and gently drops him on his back.
Motley said he is satisfied no one at the camp did anything
wrong. To the contrary, he said coaches may have saved Choy's life
by giving the cardiopulmonary resuscitation for a half-hour before
he was evacuated to a hospital by helicopter.
Motley refused to allow students to be interviewed, saying Nevada
authorities insist that no students can talk to the press until the
investigation is cleared up.
During a camp tour, visitors were shown students moving in parade
formation and eating tortillas with beans in the cafeteria.
Motley said all incidents in which coaches have physical contact
with students are documented and are routinely reviewed by the state
authorities and the Walker river Paiute Tribe, on whose land the
camp is located.
Rite of Passage, a for-profit company, pays the tribe $7,000 a
month, said tribal chairman Anita Collins. Because the land belongs
to the Paiutes, the state has no licensing authority, although is
does investigate reports of neglect or abuse. Collins said a
full-time inspector keeps an eye on the camp. In the past, she said,
the tribal council has demanded that employees with criminal
background be fired.
Motley produced a log showing that about 300 outsiders, mostly
from regulatory agencies, visited the camp in the past year.
He said it has never been cited for serious violations of either
the state's or the tribe's rules.
In the past year-and-a-half, 50 incident reports have been
reviewed by the tribe, the state and the Mineral County Sheriff;s
Department, he said. In February l99l, the tribe complained that a
student had been restrained for too long.[Emphasis added] The
camp answered that the incident involved three separate instances of
restraint and that each instance was brief.
The tribe instructed the camp to make sure coaches were
recertified on passive restraint techniques every month.
On Sunday, Judi Mar, director of San Francisco's Asian Youth
Center, said she received a call from Paul Choy on January 28. He
complained that he as depressed at the camp.
According to Mar, Choy said he had been forced to sit on a
wooden platform in the cold for five hours. Choy said it was
punishment for failing to finish a five-mile run and other parts of
the camp's demanding physical regime. [Emphasis added]
Mar, who has known Choy for about two years, said she opposed
sending the 5-foot-4 youth to the Nevada camp. She said he did not
have the athletic ability for the camp, and it was too far away for
his mother to visit. Also, she was concerned that an Asian youth
from San Francisco would feel isolated at the rural desert camp.