Living, working together as a community is emphasized at the Ca

Like any teenage group of boys, their wardrobe is mostly street style, with baggy jeans and shorts and oversized athletic shirts with logos emblazened across their chests. But as they walk in single file silently from their living quarters to their classroom, it's apparent they aren't your typical teens. They're too well behaved.

Life at the Girardot Center for Youth and Families is all about structure and routine. Breakfast for these 24 boys committed to the Missouri Division of Youth Services begins at 6:30 a.m. followed by classes, lunch, more classes, exercise, homework time, group therapy, dinner and finally a bit of free time before bed.

These are boys who've stolen cars, sold or used drugs, beaten family members and even sexually molested other children. Many are on medications for attention disorders or depression. Their ages range from 10 to 17. For some, the Girardot Center might be their last chance at solving their problems before their families give up on them.

The center, located on North Middle street, is made up of three buildings that house about 100 boys annually. An average stay lasts about six to nine months in two buildings just behind the administrative building. There are 12 neatly made beds in each of the cottages, named Cherokee Trace and Shawnee Trace.

Personal belongings are kept in each boy's wardrobe closet. The walls of the cottages are lined with posters depicting adventure and nature scenes with motivational messages about trust, risk, goals and responsibility.

There are eight youth specialists, a group leader and a cook assigned to each cottage. The youth specialists work in eight-hour shifts, so that at least one adult is always present with the boys. Other workers handle family therapy, case management and clerical support.

Mario, a 17-year-old with self-acknowledged anger issues, leads his group to class and back.

"All right, everybody clean up and get ready to go," he says with authority in his voice. "Get in a single line."

When he came to the Girardot Center, Mario was a gang member with a temper, said Ed Pearson, director of the center. His moods switched from happy to mad quickly and few of the boys would trust him. Today, he's gotten past that.

Typically, boys with a moderate level of risk for violence or emotional problems are placed at the Girardot Center. Those considered more serious risks may be placed in a more secure group home.

For some, the anxiety of being away from home and the stress of giving up their drugs of choice manifest themselves in nervous habits. Tim, often smiling and playful, chews a pen cap into a flat strip of black plastic. Others talk speedily or can't seem to sit still for long.

The facility operates under a "group culture" mentality, Pearson said. Many boys come from such broken homes that this is the first time they have encountered a family atmosphere.

"Everybody is responsible for everybody else," he said. "If one person messes up, then it's the whole group's problem to solve together."

One boy nudged a drowsy Barry, the newest and shyest Shawnee member, during history class and encouraged him to take notes. This kind of sharing the load takes place on several levels. For instance, when someone in the group forgot to bring the broom during cleanup time after lunch. The group gathered into a single line, walked to the other side of the cottage and retrieved the broom. No one gave the forgetful one a hard time -- it was simply part of the program.

For Chris, the chores aren't as hard as they once were. He's been in Shawnee Trace for a little over three months.

"It gets easier," he said. "When I first got here, it used to drive me crazy. Now, you look forward to the motivation to get the chores done."

Brushing teeth

After lunch, the boys split into two groups to brush their teeth. It's one of the unstructured times in which they appear less like cadets and more like teenage boys -- cracking jokes, smiling and giving in to mild horseplay.

The treatment program consists of four paths, or levels. Each level is followed by a candlelit ceremony as a boy completes his path and ascends to the next one. They learn to identify their goals and problems and ways to address each. They must complete 10 hours of community service on each path. Everyone goes at his own pace, with some struggling with certain issues longer than others. But after completing the final path, a boy is eligible for release.

Unlike adult prisons, where sex offenders are often targeted by other inmates and staff, there is no hierarchy of crime inside the juvenile corrections system, Pearson said. Those who committed sex offenses aren't singled out by other boys or the staff. Each child must talk about his offenses in group therapy openly, and what is said inside the group stays inside the group.

"Everybody is here because they hurt someone in some way," Pearson said. "Whether you steal from me, stab me or you rape me, I'm still hurt."

That group culture plays into safety considerations, as well. No one is allowed to be alone -- or in a large group without an adult present. The sleeping area is large and open with every twin bed visible to the staff. When the structure was first built, walls separated the beds, but DYS tore them down. The newest boy always sleeps closest to the youth specialist's desk, with boys who have earned more trust allowed to sleep farther away.

Scott, a 16-year-old committed for drug offenses, is about to be released in a few weeks to his family. He's taller than most of the other boys and athletic looking. Throughout the day, he demurely puts on his wire-rimmed glasses to read "The Outsiders" or tackle a vocabulary quiz. He asks his teacher if he can work on his algebra homework early.

This is his third or fourth group home placement after several arrests, but this time he thinks he's gotten the help he needed at the Girardot Center, where he'd never been before. He's learned about friendship, he said.

"You can work on your issues more here," he said. "I got into a lot of trouble when I first got here, but they taught me not to dwell on my failures or the past."

Though most are resistant to the program when they first arrive, some boys don't want to leave when their time comes, Pearson said.

"They have come to realize in their time here what they've been missing at home," he said.

mwells@semissourian.com

335-6611, extension 160