Advocates: Teens' breakout doesn't mean Missouri youth justice system is broken

ST. LOUIS -- Missouri's innovative youth justice system, one that is gentler and built on trust, is still a national model, child advocates say, despite a breakout of nine teens from an all-boys home over the weekend.

Local and national advocates say one incident is no reason to blame the Missouri model.

"Let's look at the entire track record," said Marc Schindler, chief of staff with the Department of Youth Rehabilitation Services for the District of Columbia.

"The more secure the facility is, the bigger the fences and razor wire, the more kids try to get out," he told the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. "When you tell kids, 'We've gotta do everything in our power to keep you here,' what's the response from an adolescent? 'We've got to try to get out of here."'

"Missouri has really set the bar for a statewide system," he said.

Visitors from around the U.S. have visited Missouri's network of lock-down homes and camps, hoping to learn how to better handle teens who have done wrong.

The theory is simple: Don't warehouse teens like prisoners. Treat them with respect. Teach them to work together. Break long-standing bad habits.

Then, Saturday, nine teens broke out of the Hogan Street Regional Youth Center in St. Louis. They pushed a staff member into a stairwell, grabbed her keys, jumped a 12-foot-tall fence and ran. Some remain at large.

Leaders found fencing that needs fixing, policies that may not have been followed and clues that could warn them next time. But they didn't question the model.

"What it really illustrates is how impulsive these kids are," said Tim Decker, director of Missouri's Division of Youth Services. "Some of them really were making progress."

Local and national advocates say one incident is no reason to blame the Missouri model.

State Youth Services leaders say fewer than 10 percent of the 1,300 youths discharged from the system yearly end up back in custody within three years. Less than a quarter end up on probation.

But the nine who broke out of Hogan Street now face additional charges. Some will be charged with assaulting the unarmed staffer.

Hogan Street, like all of the division's seven highest-security youth facilities, organizes its teens in teams of 10 to 12. Hogan Street has three such groups.

The teams do everything together. When problems arise, they all sit in a circle and don't leave until the problem is cleared up. If a team member gets violent or tries to run, counselors call the other teens to stop and restrain their associates.

And teens, often with open-ended sentences, are rewarded for their efforts. "You have to work your way out of the program," said Ray Grush, St. Charles County family court administrator.

Still, the buildings are secured. Doors are all locked, windows barred, groups separated. But leaders know that 10 teen boys can overthrow their counselors if they want to. Leaders say they rarely want to.

"This is going to happen, once in a while," said Tom Breedlove, deputy director of youth services.

They will learn from their mistakes, all of the leaders assembled at Hogan Street agreed.