Laura AbramsSocial welfare associate professor Laura Abrams of the UCLA Luskin School of Public Affairs is the author of a new book, "Compassionate Confinement: A Year in the Life of Unit C" (Rutgers University Press), which explores the complexities inherent in the U.S. system of juvenile corrections. She and co-author Ben Anderson-Nathe, associate professor at Portland State University, spent a year doing fieldwork   including extensive interviews with juvenile offenders and staff members at the Wildwood House correctional facility in Minnesota.
 
Abrams talked about her work with Luskin communications associate Matt Hurst, editor of Luskin Forum magazine.
 
 
What was your initial interest in tackling this topic?
 
When I took my first post-college position working in a residential home for delinquent young women, I began to question the value of institutions that try to correct youth’s behaviors through involuntary treatment. In graduate school, I did not focus on residential treatment, and instead looked more into schools and alternative schools as they formed the context in which young people develop and forge their identities. Then, when I was an assistant professor at the University of Minnesota, I stumbled upon the opportunity to study a residential correctional facility for young men. My practice experience and scholarship seemed to come full circle at that point as I spent the next few years doing research in Unit C (with then-Ph.D. student Anderson-Nathe) as well as in several other correctional settings to follow.
 
I see this work as an opportunity to study so many interrelated issues. If we don’t help these young people, they are very likely to stay involved in crime as young adults, when the stakes are much higher.
 
What did you learn about the juvenile corrections system from the boys and staff of Unit C?
 
This book, which is a culmination of 10 years of thinking about this setting, situates the stories of young men, residential staff and the institution itself in the larger context of political debates about the value of juvenile corrections in changing the course of young men’s lives. On the one hand, conservative critics often argue that the system is "too soft” on juveniles, thus contributing to high recidivism rates. On the other hand, youth advocates have suggested that the system has become "too adult-like," and that we need to forge a model of juvenile corrections that is more nurturing and therapeutic.
 
Our book argues that neither position is correct. Rather, the way that [involuntary] treatment is delivered in the context of a punitive correctional facility —  even with the best of intentions —  has some paradoxical outcomes. A prime example is youth who believe in themselves as the best “manipulators” feel that they get better at their manipulation skills while they are in the facility.
 
Yet this does not mean that we suggest these facilities can’t be helpful. We found that some of the treatment practices were quite helpful for some of the youth — mostly when the young person is ready to change, and when youth are allowed to “open up” to the staff without fear of reprisal — in sum, when truly therapeutic exchanges are allowed to occur. We do not believe that the correctional staff should double as lay "therapists.” This practice actually can have a harmful effect on the youth, and makes the staff confused about their roles and boundaries as well.
 
Did conducting this research as on-site fieldwork give you a unique perspective?
 
Being an ethnographic observer in the facility taught me so much. I was lucky to be “let in” to this facility. By observing the day-to-day routines and getting to know the staff and the youth, I came to really appreciate and understand the culture of juvenile corrections in a way that I couldn’t have done without this extensive exposure to the institution. I have vivid memories of all of the people that I encountered in Unit C, and I won’t ever forget these experiences.
 
How do you hope your book will help shape the future of correctional facilities?
 
I would like people to see that the answers to these problems are not as simple as they might appear. There is no panacea to fixing a very damaged system — but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. I hope that people listen to the voices of the youth and the staff of Unit C to see the full picture. The youth who are confined in these facilities have often been failed by many other systems set up to help —  child welfare, schools and others. The youth are coming to corrections not seeking an answer. They are often just biding their time. It takes a special type of worker, one who can really engage with youth, to inspire a desire to use their time productively.
 
It is also important to consider the larger context of corrections. Probation and direct-line workers are offered very little training to do the work they are doing, and are also low on the hierarchy in terms of prestige. They want to make a difference in the lives of youth, and that is why they take the job. The system needs to offer them greater tools to work with. I hope that the public will use this information to fund and create better programs.