- Written by Lorenn Walker
“Shut up or I’ll kill you!” shouted the man as he shoved the hard barrel of a 9 mm handgun into the young woman’s stomach. She was a store clerk. The robber wanted her to open the store safe. “I don’t have the whole combination,” she sobbed. “Where’s your purse?” he demanded. He took the $32 out of her wallet along with her car keys. Then he wrapped duct tape around her mouth, hands and feet. He left her face down on the ground and ran from the store. Until she was rescued and untied by a co-worker about an hour later, she imagined him returning and shooting her. She kept thinking about her two young children, whose father was already gone, and what they would do without their mother.
The robber stole her car, which ran out of gas a few miles from the store. The police found the car and impounded it. She was stunned when she had to pay $92 for towing and storage fees to get her car back. Her boss later reimbursed her.
The robber was apprehended in another holdup. She was subpoenaed to testify at his trial. She waited outside the courtroom for an hour and a half while she was taunted and threatened by the robber’s family. Although she was afraid, she still testified.
Her experience in court was brief and painful. The robber’s lawyer acted like she had done something wrong and was lying. “Isn’t it true you never saw his teeth clearly? You don’t even know if he had gold caps on his teeth or not, do you?” he sneered, raising his eyebrows at the jury. She left the courtroom feeling dreadful and dirty. She longed for a hot shower.
Ten years later the woman was still haunted by the experience. Why did the robber pick her store to rob that day? Why did she risk her life and lie to him about not having the combination to the safe? What would her children have done if she had been killed? What happened to the robber after the trial? Was he convicted or acquitted? She had talked only briefly with her husband about the experience and remained deeply troubled by it.
The woman later learned about the experimental restorative justice program reported in this paper. The program provided two trained facilitators who came and met with her at her home. For the first time, she had a detailed conversation about the effects that the crime had had on her life. Six months after this restorative process, she reported, “It helped me a lot. I used to think about the robbery all the time.” The conversation “helped me to not worry about it anymore.” Today, she is working toward a bachelor’s degree in criminal justice.
The Hawai’i Friends of Civic and Law Related Education (Hawai’i Friends), collaborated with the International Institute for Restorative Practices (IIRP), on the Restorative Justice Without Offender Participation Project, beginning in June 2002. At a meeting in August 2002 and through subsequent email exchanges, IIRP staff assisted in designing the restorative processes, and in planning how to obtain cooperation from government and other agencies and how to engage the public.
In addition, a group interested in victim services in Honolulu, including representatives from the Honolulu Police Department, the State Department of the Attorney General, the U.S. Attorney General’s offices, the City and County of Honolulu Prosecutor’s Office, Mothers Against Drunk Driving (MADD), Kapiolani Sex Abuse Treatment Center, Community Alliance on Prisons and the State Crime Victim Compensation Commission, helped develop and guide this experimental program through a series of three meetings, beginning in September 2002.
Restorative justice is a response to crime that considers the needs of victims, offenders and the community (Zehr, 2002). While the modern restorative justice movement began in the 1970s, some believe that “restorative justice has been the dominant model of criminal justice throughout most of human history for perhaps all the world’s peoples” (Braithwaite, 2002). Restorative justice in Europe was largely abandoned at the time of the Norman Conquest (Van Ness, 1986). However, many indigenous cultures worldwide have never stopped using it (Braithwaite, 2002 and Zehr, 2002).
The general goal of modern restorative justice is to create a process for reconciliation between defendants who accept responsibility for their wrongdoing, their victims, and their community, family and friends, who are affected by the crimes (Zehr, 1990). Usually, restorative justice happens after a defendant has admitted guilt, and if the victim agrees to participate in a restorative process, it brings both parties together. There are many situations, however, where a shared victim and offender process is not possible, but where a restorative response can provide important benefits for the victim or offender, even without the other’s presence.
Some complain that a shortcoming of restorative justice is its failure to address the needs of victims when they do not meet with offenders (Roche, 2003). However, there are many reasons why meetings between victims and offenders are not possible. First, in most criminal cases the offenders are unknown. Less than 20 percent of all crime results in an arrest (FBI, 2003). Therefore, even if victims want to meet with offenders in a restorative process, often no offender has been identified and arrested, making such a meeting impossible.
Second, many offenders fail to take responsibility for their crimes. Although over 90 percent of all charged defendants eventually admit that they committed a crime, by means of a plea bargain (Hall, 1996), many maintain that they were not responsible for the crime. Restorative justice meetings between victims and offenders are about potential reconciliation. Meetings with victims and offenders, when offenders deny responsibility, usually create further hardship to victims, although under certain conditions these meetings may have some benefit (Walker, 2002).
Finally, many victims simply do not want to meet with the offenders. Eight restorative justice programs collected data on the percentage of victims unwilling to meet with offenders (Kerner, Marks & Schreckling, 1992; Moore & McDonald, 1994; Maxwell & Morris, 1996; McCold & Wachtel, 1996; Strang, 2000; Trimboli, 2000; Braithwaite, 2002; and Hoyle, 2002). Analysis of these studies showed that an average of 47 percent of victims, when offered the opportunity to participate in a restorative process with the offenders, declined the invitation.
Howard Zehr, a recognized leader of the modern restorative justice movement has written:
In a restorative system, services would start immediately after a crime to address victim needs and to involve the victims, regardless of whether an offender is apprehended. Thus victim assistance, while it cannot be seen as fully restorative, is an important component of a restorative system and should be seen at least as partially restorative.
(Zehr, pp. 55-56, 2002)
John Braithwaite, a well-known Australian criminologist and proponent of restorative justice, agrees that providing a restorative response for victims not meeting with offenders can assist them and should be pursued even without the offender’s participation (personal correspondence, November and December 2003). Indeed, “partially restorative” processes can be beneficial for anyone who participates.
Partially Restorative Practices
There are ranges of restorative justice practices, from “fully restorative” to “mostly restorative” to “partially restorative” (McCold & Wachtel, 2002). The main criterion for determining where a particular practice fits in the restorative gauge is based on who participates in the process. A fully restorative practice includes the participation of all direct stakeholders: the victim, offender and their family and friends. A restorative practice with only the victim or offender is a “partially restorative” practice. For reconciliation purposes, a partially restorative practice is not as ideal as a fully restorative practice, but still offers important benefits.
While offenders have the opportunity to participate in restorative programs without victim participation, usually victims do not. Although there are counseling, compensation and support-group programs for victims of particular types of crimes, such as sexual abuse, drunk driving and violent crimes, most crime victims are on their own to meet their needs, both materially and psychologically. Ironically, our justice system provides more resources for criminal offenders than for the people they harm.
The National Center for Victims of Crime (NCVC) has undertaken the “Parallel Justice” project, which seeks to “revolutionize our response to crime victims” (NCVC, 2003). Parallel Justice is being conducted at four sites in the United States, with the aim of assisting crime victims in a variety of ways, including “establishing non-adversarial forums where victims have an opportunity to explain what happened to them, what the impact on their lives was, and what resources they need to get their lives on track.” The experimental restorative justice program reported in this paper coincides with the goal of the Parallel Justice project.
Influences and Related Thinking
The work of many individuals was applied in developing this restorative practice, including Howard Zehr, John Braithwaite, Kay Pranis, Paul McCold, Ted Wachtel and Daniel Van Ness.
Terry O’Connell, an Australian who is largely responsible for introducing restorative conferencing to the American criminal justice system (Pranis, 1998 and Wachtel, 1997), and Insoo Kim Berg, a co-founder of solution-focused brief therapy (Nichols & Schwartz, 2001), were consulted in the development of the questions that form the general outline of the practice.
Solution-focused brief therapy (SFBT) was originally developed by Insoo Kim Berg and Steve de Shazer “as a quiet revolt against the prevailing view of what is helpful to people with problems of living” (Berg & Steiner, 2003). SFBT represents a radical departure from traditional psychological therapy. “In SFBT the therapist’s role is more like a facilitator than a counselor” (DeJong & Berg, 2002), empowering people to solve their own problems, which is consistent with restorative justice.
In a more general way, others who have dealt with surviving trauma and suffering, and whose thinking is consistent with the goal of restorative justice, have influenced the project. Viktor Frankl, who suffered in Nazi concentration camps, has written, “Life ultimately means taking responsibility to find the right answer to its problems and to fulfill the tasks, which it constantly sets for each individual” (Frankl, 1984, p. 85). The Dalai Lama, Tibet’s exiled leader, advises that “our confidence and self-reliance can grow and our courage become strengthened as a result of suffering.” This, he says, can be achieved by “examining it, analyzing it, determining its causes, and finding out how to deal with them” (The Dalai Lama, Ethics for the New Millennium, p. 140).
Finally, Desmond Tutu, the 1984 Nobel Peace Laureate and chairperson of South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC), says:
It is ultimately in our best interest to be repentant, reconciling and reconciled people because without forgiveness, without reconciliation we have no future. …
In forgiving, people are not being asked to forget. On the contrary, it is important to remember, so that we should not let such atrocities happen again. Forgiveness does not mean we condone what has been done. It means taking what happened seriously and not minimizing it; drawing out the string in the memory that threatens to poison our entire existence. It involves trying to understand the perpetrators and so have empathy to try to stand in their shoes and appreciate the sort of pressures and influences that might have conditioned them.
(Tutu, 1999, pp. 165 & 206)
Hate is like rust. It eats away at our core. A restorative response can provide crime victims with the opportunity to address the harm they have suffered and let go of their hate. A restorative response can be an effective method for victims to find meaning from their suffering and to move from being a victim to becoming a survivor. Here is the story of an artist who used the serious harm he suffered to create something beautiful out of garbage.
The Creation of the Shattered Heart
“What are you doing!” the man yelled. He had just returned home and found a stranger in his house rummaging through some desk drawers. The apparent thief turned around and made a wailing sound as he moved his lips. He was deaf and mute. He grabbed a piece of paper on the desk and scribbled out a message: “Can you help me? I was robbed of all my money. I’m hungry. I need a clean shirt.” He was disheveled and looked desperate, but he was also young and seemed innocent. The man decided to help him. He gave him clean clothes and some food, and let him sleep on his couch for the night. The intruder told him his name.
It was 1975 and the helpful man was 26 years old. He was an artist who had just received his master’s degree in fine arts from the University of Hawaii. He had struggled himself in life and the intruder seemed harmless. It was natural for him to be kind.
Later that night, the artist woke up choking on smoke billowing up from the bottom story of his house. The place was on fire. He rushed downstairs, looking for the intruder, but he was gone. The roar of sirens got louder. As he ran out of his house, two fire trucks screeched into his driveway. But it was too late. His house went up in flames. All his artwork was gone, work that he had spent years on. His home and all his belongings were destroyed. The firemen said the fire had been started by arson.
Later that night, wrapped in a blanket, the artist gave a statement to the police. He told them about the intruder, who must have started the fire. But the artist was arrested. A man with the same name as the intruder’s had been found dead earlier that day. The artist was no longer an arson victim but a murder suspect. After spending hours at the police station, the artist was able to convince the police that his story was true. The police finally recognized the intruder as the suspect in a string of other crimes. The artist was released.
The artist not only lost his home that night—he lost his job. Some of his employer’s property that had been stored in his house was lost in the fire. “How could you be so stupid as to help some criminal? You’re too stupid to work for me,” said his boss when she fired him.
Losing everything that grim night put the artist on a path that led to a successful career 25 years later. Because he had no money to buy art supplies, he was forced to become creative with what he could find for free to make his art. He found his supplies in the garbage. Over the years he developed high-level assemblage art skills. One type of garbage he found, and still works with today, is broken glass.
The artist has a studio in downtown Honolulu. His “shattered hearts” are popular art pieces. These stunning, three-dimensional hearts are made from broken pieces of colored glass glued together. Shattered hearts are in art galleries and museums and are collected by other artists and individuals.
After meeting for several hours as a participant in this restorative project, the artist said, “Looking back on it, losing everything turned out to be a good thing. It was important for me as an artist. If I hadn’t lost my house, my job and all my work that night, I wouldn’t have gotten into the work I do now,” he said.
Description of Practice
The restorative practice developed for this project simply gives victims an opportunity to tell their stories in a small group setting. They can talk about how they have been affected by the crime and what might assist them in repairing the harm.
The victim of a violent crime myself 27 years ago, I conceived of the idea for this practice because I recognized the need to provide a forum like this for victims, without an offender’s participation. As coordinator of the program, I work with a co-facilitator, another former crime victim who recognized the need for this program. Our combined experience in therapy, public health and the law provided us with the ideal background to develop the practice.
Working as two facilitators together on the cases gave us the opportunity to discuss the practice, its effectiveness for victims and ways to improve it. While two facilitators are not necessary to conduct restorative practices, in this case having co-facilitators provided a serendipitous effect. Working together and discussing the cases of other victims gave us the opportunity to reaffirm how our own suffering, resulting from the crimes committed against us, made our lives more meaningful.
An eventual goal of the pilot program is that the crime victims who participate in the program become facilitators of the practice and benefit from this service role. Having prior crime victims co-facilitate the practice can provide a positive benefit for them, as well as for the victims they are assisting. Several victims who participated in the pilot have indicated an interest in becoming facilitators themselves in the future.
When the practice includes only the victim and the facilitators, it is called a restorative conversation, and when the victim brings one or more supporters to the meeting, it is called a circle of care.
Before the restorative event, a facilitator talks with victims about what to expect in the meeting, which is held at a place and time convenient for them. The facilitator asks victims if they want to bring supporters with them to the meeting. Most of the victims in this project chose to meet alone with the facilitators. Most meetings were held at the victims’ homes.
Victims are asked a series of open-ended questions, presented below. The questions are not followed in every case. The list of questions is still a work in progress. The initial questions address the issue of how the victims have coped with the aftermath of the crime:
- How have you managed to get through this so far?
- Who or what has been most helpful in dealing with this terrible situation?
Subsequent questions facilitators may use to help the victims tell their stories:
- What happened?
- How has the crime or crisis affected you?
- What has been the hardest thing about what happened?
- How have others who are close to you been affected?
- How have they responded?
- What would you want those responsible for what happened to you to know about your experience?
- What is needed to help you deal with some of your hurt and pain?
- How might others help?
- What things can you do that might also help?
- What can others learn from your experience?
- Can you think of anyone else who also has experienced the same or a similar event?
- How have others dealt with the same or similar crises or crimes?
- What other crises or crimes have you experienced in the past?
- How did you deal with those crimes or crises in the past?
A written plan may be developed as a result of the meeting. The plan states the goal or goals the victim may develop as a result of the meeting. After the initial meeting, the victims are offered the option of additional meetings. Most victims in this project chose to meet only once.
Sixteen crime victims have participated in the program to date, and three are scheduled for future meetings. Four victims received services over the telephone and did not need to meet personally. Crimes included harassment, assault, attempted rape, robbery, arson, negligent homicide, fraud, burglary and car theft. The length of time from the occurrence of the date of the crime to the date of participation in the program varied from a crime that occurred one week earlier to two cases that involved crimes that occurred 20 years before.
Most restorative conversation meetings lasted about 90 minutes. One restorative conversation, with a victim traumatized by a death that occurred the month before, lasted well over three hours.
Another restorative conversation with a victim led to holding a formal restorative conference with the offender and other key stakeholders. A group of ten participants, including supporters for both the victim and offender, met and came to an agreement about how to repair the harm caused by the crime.
In another case where the victim expressed a strong desire to meet with the offender, it was ultimately decided that it was best not to contact the offender, who had denied committing sexual abuse for many years. The victim in that case, however, benefited from two restorative conversations with the facilitators.
Over 500 brochures were distributed by several of the collaborators (MADD and the Crime Compensation Commission) to three hospital emergency rooms and a mental health clinic, but only one of the 16 victims who participated learned of the program this way. Most cases were referred to the program by word-of-mouth through the two facilitators or a collaborating organization. A short newspaper article describing the program provided five victims with information about the program.
Participant Satisfaction with Program
The victims surveyed about their participation indicated high levels of satisfaction with the practice. Many indicated that the practice greatly surpassed their expectations of what it might accomplish. “Thank you so much! I never thought this could have been so helpful!” said one victim as she hugged the facilitator.
Quotes from victims about what they found most useful included:
- “I could tell my story and be listened to and look for positive outcomes.”
- “Realizing that my own reactions (or non-reactions) are my strength.”
- “Closure. Identifying things that we can do.”
- Continue the pilot program for 12 more months.
- Work to recruit and train victim participants to become facilitators in the program.
- Work with the City and County of Honolulu Prosecutor’s Office, which plans to select negligent homicide cases that will not be prosecuted and refer them to MADD, which may then refer them to this program.
- Continue working with the other Honolulu collaborators in distributing the brochures, including the police department, which has resisted referring crime victims to the program for “liability reasons.” This is unfortunate because the police are the ideal outlet for informing victims about the program.
- Continue collecting and telling the stories of victims about the benefits of a restorative approach to crime, so that they may share them with others.
- Finally, remember that it took over 2000 years to create our current criminal justice system, and recognize that it may take some time to return to restorative justice.
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- Written by Laura Mirsky
The concept of creative restitution was developed by psychologist Dr. Albert Eglash in the 1950s. While working with adults and youths who were involved in the criminal justice system, Eglash found that the system lacked both humanity and effectiveness. As a proposed alternative to that system, he developed and promoted the concept of creative restitution. In creative restitution, “an offender, under appropriate supervision, is helped to find some way to make amends to those he has hurt by his offense, and to ‘walk a second mile’ by helping other offenders.”
Some of the basic tenets of restorative justice can be found in the principles of creative restitution, as can the philosophical heart of a variety of restorative practices programs. For this reason, Eglash’s work on creative restitution has been acknowledged by some as one of the foundations of the restorative justice movement.
|Dr. Albert Eglash (left), with his son, Ronald, his grandson, Isaac, and his wife, Evelyn.|
Eglash was interviewed in August 2003. Asked what had inspired the concept of creative restitution, he said, “The concept of restitution had been around a long time, but in a very narrow sense. It simply meant paying money. I just expanded it.” Asked if he saw a connection between creative restitution and restorative justice, Eglash said, “Yes, I think they’re the same thing. I think the restorative justice movement has moved my concept in a very constructive direction, far beyond what I had conceived.”
In the 1950s, in Detroit, Michigan, U.S.A., while working with the Mayor’s Rehabilitation Committee on Skid Row Problems and the Commission on Children and Youth, Eglash counseled destitute alcoholics and attended Alcoholics Anonymous (A.A.) meetings. He was very impressed with the fellowship he saw among A.A. members, and their practices provided inspiration for the idea of creative restitution. “A.A.’s Twelve Steps program includes two steps about making amends,” he said.
At the same time, Eglash met “Tip,” an alcoholic with an extensive criminal and prison background who wanted to find a way to make amends for the things that he had done. Eglash and Tip provided leadership to a Twelve Steps program for delinquent teenagers called Youth Anonymous, and Eglash performed a follow-up study of the youths who had participated in the program. He also co-conducted meetings of Adults Anonymous, a support group program for prisoners, based on the tenets of A.A. He promoted the use of creative restitution with prisoners and parolees, discussed the concept among them and recorded their comments.
In an early article, Eglash spelled out the characteristics of the restitutional act:
“1. It is an active, effortful role on the part of an offender. On New York’s Riker’s Island, inmates of the city penitentiary risked their lives to rescue passengers of a plane which crashed and burst into flames during a snowstorm. Restitution is something an inmate does, not something done for him, or to him. …
2. This activity has socially constructive consequences. … From prison labor wages and savings, Ionia (Michigan) inmates sent money to foster parents. Being constructive, restitution may contribute to an offender’s self-esteem.
3. These constructive consequences are related to the offense. … Being offense related, creative restitution may redirect in a constructive manner those same conscious or unconscious thoughts, emotions or conflicts which motivated the offense.
4. The relationship between offense and restitution may be reparative, restorative. In San Quentin, Jim asked to earn the $50 necessary to make good a bad check. Being reparative, restitution can alleviate guilt and anxiety, which can otherwise precipitate further offenses.
5. The reparation may leave the situation better than before the offense was committed. A youngster destroyed a neighbor’s rural mailbox; police turned him over to his parents. Boy and father together replaced the box on its post. The next day, the boy asked for paint and brush, left the box in better condition than before the offense occurred.”
Eglash listed further attributes of creative restitution, which “distinguishes it from reparations or indemnity:
1. It is any constructive act.
2. It is creative and unlimited
3. It is guided, self-determined behavior.
4. It can have a group basis.”
After discussing creative restitution with adults in a county jail, youths in a correctional facility, adult pre-parolees in a house of corrections and other juveniles and adults involved in criminal circumstances, Eglash concluded that the concept: “makes sense to adult offenders and is more acceptable to them than is mandatory restitution. They believe that incarceration discourages restitutional effort, since it provides a codified (ritual) restitution. They are leery about approaching the victim, who may be vengeful, and welcome the help of a parole officer in this matter. Restitution occurred to many before incarceration. Juveniles are even more frightened of facing their victims. … [They] seem not to have been made aware—by parents, school, police or court—that making amends to those we hurt is part of our growth.”
Eglash addressed some of the basic elements of restorative justice in his thoughts on creative restitution. On the importance of restoring the relationship between the offender and the victim, he wrote, “At present, offenders are not encouraged to make contact with their victim at any time, either on probation, in prison, on parole or after discharge, but experience with creative restitution suggests that a victim may become an offender’s best friend, an important human resource for help in reestablishing self-respect and in reintegrating with society.” Eglash was optimistic that creative restitution might help with the stigma felt by prisoners after they had been released from confinement. He hoped that reconciliation with the victim would “provide a gateway to comfortable relations with others.”
Another important component of creative restitution is the idea of the renewal of self-respect. “Certainly one of the first objectives for the offender … is the bolstering of his feelings of self-worth,” wrote Eglash (with Paul Keve, then director of Hennepin County Probation Department, Minneapolis, Minnesota, U.S.A.), adding, “So much has happened to [an offender] to weaken or destroy that sense of worth. In the beginning, perhaps, a rejecting parent; then problems in school that added to feelings of inferiority; then failures in jobs, discord in marriage, or a variety of other sources of trouble. … And now to have been arrested, jailed, tried and found guilty seems to say to the defendant all over again, in the most concrete ways, that he is an inferior object with no right to look at himself with pride or hope.”
The article quoted above tells a story about an instance of unplanned creative restitution. “Steve” had a juvenile court record but had gone on to become a successful plumber and family man. Then one day he fell back into his old ways, when he stole some copper tubing and was caught. At this point, Steve “felt disgraced and discouraged nearly to the point of just not caring anymore.”Per court order, Steve began making payments to the complainant for the tubing, but the act of paying monetary restitution did nothing to end his despair. One day while waiting to meet with the victim of the theft, “McCormick,” to make a payment, Steve overheard him saying he needed volunteers to build a playground and offered his help. As Steve became involved with the playground project, “his feeling of being a pariah was rapidly dispelled. …”and his relationship with McCormick was repaired. Eglash envisioned creative restitution as a way to provide a deliberate opportunity for offender and victim to restore their relationship, along with a chance for the offender to come up with a means to repair the harm done to the victim, such as community service.
Eglash also stressed the importance of an offender admitting his or her wrongdoing, along with the significance of a simple apology by the offender to the victim. Again, he said he drew inspiration from A.A.’s Twelve Steps, writing, “Step 10 of the Alcoholics Anonymous program suggests that ‘When we were wrong, we promptly admitted it.’ Steps 8 and 9 suggest that ‘We made a list of all persons we had harmed and became willing to make amends to them.’”
It was another A.A. practice that inspired Eglash to advocate the notion of mutual help. “One way of making restitution for the harm we have done is by helping others with the same problems as our own,”[12 ]he wrote. “At present, mutual association between offenders is discouraged or even prohibited, and may constitute a violation of probation or parole. But creative restitution encourages such mutual association: if alcoholics can help each other leave liquor alone one day at a time, perhaps offenders can help each other leave other things alone one day at a time. … Perhaps an offender is an effective person for getting through the defenses and resistances of another offender.”[13 ]
Eglash pointed out another benefit of mutual help. “Because restitution can be a group process, time demands on leadership, e.g., on probation officers, can be reduced. … Probationary guidance may be easier with a group than with an individual. In committing an offense, what a youth would not do alone he tackles when supported by his group.”
Eglash put the group process to work when he initiated the first meeting of Youth Anonymous, in January 1955, at Boys Republic, “a private training school for boys 13 to 16 who had failed to benefit from other corrective action.”Eglash’s friend and coworker, Tip, ran the gathering along the lines of an A.A. meeting, beginning with telling his personal story of crime, imprisonment and alcoholism. Tip then asked the boys what they wanted to name their program, suggesting, “Delinquents Anonymous.” The boys didn’t like the idea. Tip asked them why not, explaining that alcoholics call their group “Alcoholics Anonymous.” “Yeah, but they don’t call themselves ‘Drunks Anonymous,’”replied the boys. Rejecting the stigma of delinquency, the boys settled on “Teenagers Anonymous.” A second group, which met at the Michigan Department of Corrections Brighton Youth Camp, selected the name “Youth Anonymous” (Y.A.). Neighborhood Youth Anonymous groups formed as well, open to both boys and girls, as did a parents’ auxiliary. The program’s goal was to enable youths whose behavior had set them apart to rejoin their peers.
The youths participated enthusiastically in the Y.A. groups. They heard speakers from A.A., as well as adults who had been in trouble, and helped each other deal with their problems, informed by discussion of some of A.A.’s Twelve Steps. In 1956, Eglash wrote, “In a high delinquency area of Detroit, concerned observers have commented that there has been a noticeable decrease in serious juvenile offenses since the establishment of a group there.”
In 1961, Eglash began follow-up interviews with as many former Y.A. participants as he was able to contact. Attendance at Y.A. meetings seemed to have had a lasting positive effect on many of them. He obtained the following comments from former members. Before Y.A.: “Before, somebody would say something, I’d belt him one.” “I was on probation for B&E (breaking and entering)—it was 33 B&Es. … I used to run away from home and steal cars.” About Y.A.: “It was something I was in, not just one person talking, everyone; if you wanted to say something, you could; you could even be a leader.” “It keeps you off the streets and out of gang fights. We’d talk and learn that you have to help other people keep out of trouble if you want to keep out of trouble yourself.” After Y.A.: “I walk down the street and think about crazy things to do, give people a hard time, then I think again, and now I don’t do it.” “The guys wanted to break into a house boat. I talked them out of it.”
In the interview, Eglash referred to a new manuscript—a work in progress. “Armed Conflict as Fixation: Twenty-one Steps Toward Peace” applies concepts of creative restitution, which are closely related to restorative justice, to the ancient problem of how to end war.
Just as he advocates direct communication between offenders and victims to repair the harm between them, Eglash, recognizing the common humanity of the citizens of combating nations, proposes that those directly involved in the world’s conflicts have the opportunity to restore relations between them. Consequently, he suggests that peacemakers be chosen from among families of those who have been killed. He cites the example of an Israeli father whose son was killed by Palestinians and a Palestinian father whose son was killed by Israelis who organized a group called Pain for Peace. Furthermore, if ex-alcoholics are the best people to help alcoholics, and ex-offenders are effective in helping others avoid criminal behavior, Eglash suggests that ex-terrorists might be appropriate to lead others on the path to peace.
Creative restitution stresses the importance of apology in restoring harm between offenders and victims, and Eglash sees the same value in nations apologizing to each other for the “brutal, cruel, savage things each side does to the other.” The refusal by nations to make such apologies is, he believes, one reason that conflict endures. And, he thinks, as important as it is to apologize, it is equally imperative that apologies be accepted when they are offered. “Accepting apologies implies dropping grudges, resentments and revenge. Instead, it suggests forgiveness…”The notion of making amends for harm done, another concept central to creative restitution, is also seen as a vital step toward peace.
But perhaps the most important step toward peace, one that is fundamental to restorative justice, is the willingness to renounce retribution. Eglash cites the never-ending cycle of retaliation between Israel and Palestine and that between Catholics and Protestants in Northern Ireland as examples of the endless demand for retributive justice which must cease. This is where the notion of forgiveness comes into play. “In order to forgive,” writes Eglash, “we distinguish between people and their behavior, so that we can forgive the people, not their behavior.”
Finally, Eglash asserts that peace is a human right, and challenges those who maintain that people have a right to revenge. “Revenge—retributive justice—may be a strong emotion, a strongly desired goal, a universally bitter emotion,” he writes, “but none of this makes it a human right belonging to surviving victims. Enjoying the flavor of getting even pits individual satisfaction against a nation’s aspirations to live in peace with its neighbors.”
During the interview, Eglash talked about those who take a negative attitude toward restorative justice and believe in revenge. “They’re saying that one of the human rights is revenge; if you’re a victim, then you have a right to revenge. I’m not arguing whether you have a right to revenge or not, but to me, even if you have a right to it, revenge is a human wrong.”
We are grateful to Dr. Eglash for taking the time to speak to us about his work on creative restitution. Begun nearly half a century ago, it remains as useful and important today.
 Eglash, A. (1958a). Creative Restitution: Some Suggestions for Prison Rehabilitation Programs. American Journal of Correction, 20, 20-34.
 Eglash, A. (1958b). Creative Restitution: A Broader Meaning for an Old Term. Journal of Criminal Law, Criminology and Police Science, 48: 619-622. Reprinted in: Hudson, J. & Galaway, B. (Eds.). (1975). Considering the Victim: Readings in Restitution and Victim Compensation. Springfield, Illinois: Charles C. Thomas.
 Eglash, A. (1959?). Offenders Comments on Creative Restitution. Journal Unknown.
 Eglash, A. (1958a).
 Keve went on to become Commissioner of Corrections for the states of Minnesota and Delaware, professor at Virginia Commonwealth University and author of several books on corrections.
 Eglash, A. & Keve, P. (1957). Payments on “a Debt to Society.” N.P.P.A. News: A Publication of the National Probation and Parole Association, 36, (4).
 Eglash, A. (1958a).
 Eglash, A. (1958b).
 Eglash, A. (1958c). Youth Anonymous. Federal Probation. 22: 47-49.
 Eglash, A. (2000). Critical Incidents in Youth Anonymous. Unpublished manuscript.
 Eglash, A. (2003). Armed Conflict as Fixation: Twenty-One Steps Toward Peace. Unpublished manuscript.
- Written by Laura Mirsky
Hampshire County, England, has been an important location for the development and use of family group conferencing (FGC), also known as family group decision making (FGDM). One of the largest nonmetropolitan counties in England, Hampshire has a population of 1.5 million and encompasses both urban and rural areas, with communities ranging from prosperous to economically depressed. There has been a wide variety of FGC activity in the county. Starting with child welfare, FGC has moved into youth justice, education and domestic violence applications, among others. This article explores a variety of FGC programs in Hampshire.
Steve Love, assistant director, Children and Families, Hampshire County Council, oversees FGC work in the county. Love said that he makes the decisions as to how FGCs are supported, awarding grants to NGOs (nongovernmental organizations). Five years ago, the county was doing more FGCs than all the other 150 regions in the UK combined, said Love, but now other areas are catching up. More than 600 FGCs per year are held in Hampshire. That is still a small percentage of the 6,000 cases where the FGC approach could potentially be utilized, he said. FGCs are not yet written into the law in the county. Love would like to see that happen but believes that it will take at least five years. He said he views FGCs as a means to an end. In Hampshire, he said, “We are not interested in FGCs just for the sake of doing FGCs, but to obtain as much family engagement as possible.”
FGC is a restorative process that empowers families to make decisions, normally made for them by public officials, concerning the care and support of their children and other family members. The practice began in New Zealand in youth justice and child welfare applications and has spread throughout the world. In New Zealand, FGC is built into law. The key features of the New Zealand FGC model are: Prior to the conference, a coordinator or facilitator does thorough preparation to engage and inform as many extended family members and friends as possible so that they will attend the conference. At the conference, professionals share information with the entire group about the case. Then, family and friends meet by themselves, without professionals present, to develop a plan concerning the case. Subsequently, professionals assess the family’s plan for safety and legal concerns. Post-conference, professionals monitor and review the plan’s progress and often one or more follow-up conferences are held. To learn more about FGC models and programs, consult the Restorative Practices eForum series of three articles, “Family Group Conferencing Worldwide,” click here.
Child welfare policy in the UK was affected recently by a major child care inquiry surrounding the Victoria Climbié case, he said. (Victoria Climbié was a young African girl who came to the UK and was tortured and beaten to death.) There was extensive criticism of social services following this tragedy, “that we didn’t use the powers available to protect a child,” said Love. However, a new green paper (a government consultation document), entitled “Every Child Matters,” seems to bode well for the future of FGC in the UK, in that it includes family group conferencing as part of its Universal Parenting Services initiative, said Love. The green paper is “by and large very positive,” he said. In any case, the Council will persist in its efforts to promote FGCs, said Love, adding, “FGCs are better able to engage the people involved and less expensive” than conventional statutory processes.
FGCs began in Hampshire when Paul Nixon, former commissioning officer for FGCs for the Hampshire County Council Social Services Department (now children’s services Manager, Children and Young People Directorate, West Berkshire Council), began to identify problems with Hampshire’s child welfare system. (In addition to a conversation with Nixon, this article references his paper, “Promoting Family Decision Making in Child Care Practice: An Overview of the Use of Family Group Conferences in Child Protection, Youth Justice, Schools and with Young Carers,” 1999.)
In 1992, Nixon found that Hampshire’s child welfare system lacked family involvement in the decision-making process. He had heard about FGCs and wanted to do a few conferences, but his manager would not permit it until he obtained proper training and support and pulled together a multidisciplinary partnership, including people in the health, education and police professions. Nixon ultimately found that his manager had been right about the need to lay preliminary groundwork prior to holding conferences. “We made a steering group and set up a pilot,” he said. They then wrote staff guidance and leaflets for families, established a training program and hired autonomous evaluators from the University of Sheffield, UK, to research the process. Public meetings were held to recruit coordinators from the community who were independent of statutory agencies. Coordinators came forward from a variety of backgrounds, including a marriage guidance counselor, an artist and designer, a retired head teacher, a typist, a nurse, a community worker and a biologist.
Asked what makes a good coordinator, Nixon said that the best were not professionally trained, but had “natural talent and values.” There is now a pool of 30 to 35 coordinators to draw from who attend regular training events and meet monthly for supervision, both as a group—to share what they’ve learned—and individually, with project managers. Hampshire is moving, however, toward posting full-time coordinators in various locations, to give them more credibility with “resistant statutory agency bureaucrats,” said Nixon.
During Hampshire’s first child welfare FGC pilot, 23 conferences were held, using the New Zealand FGC model. The results of the autonomous evaluations of the pilot were good, so the FGC program was introduced throughout the county. To read a research report on Hampshire child welfare FGCs, “Steering with the Current? Discovering the Family Perspective on FGC Outcomes, 2001,” by Martin Stevens, Social Services Research and Information Unit (SSRIU), University of Portsmouth, go to: www.hants.gov.uk/TC/sspm/steeringfgc.html [report no longer available on line]. The report focuses on the stories of eight families who experienced FGCs aimed at resolving child protection concerns.
The focus of youth justice FGCs is different from that of child welfare conferences, said Nixon, in that the former are a response to offenses committed by youths and directly involve victims. A key objective of youth justice FGCs is to make young people accountable for their actions in a context that also offers support and care. Interest in youth justice FGCs stemmed from concerns about the contemporary justice system—from court system delays and spiraling costs to a lack of meaningful involvement in the court process for victims, young offenders and their families. These problems produced inadequate accountability for young offenders and insufficient provision for reparation.
Hampshire’s youth justice FGC pilot was conducted from 1997-1999. Its aims: to provide an alternative to criminal proceedings for young people referred, to enable families to develop and implement a plan to support young people and keep them in their community, to encourage young people and their families to take responsibility for decisions, to prevent reoffending, to ensure that victims’ perspectives were fully heard and valued, to evaluate the process outcomes independently and to disseminate the findings. Referral criteria specified that FGCs would be used outside the court system for repeat offenders, who, based on local police research, were deemed unlikely to respond to further cautioning (formal warning by police). Twenty cases were randomly allocated either to an FGC or to processing in the usual manner in court.
The pilot produced promising results. Independent research found considerable reductions in recidivism rates in the FGC group and collected approving comments from youth and their families. Most family members in the study (90 percent) were positive about the FGC process and felt that the young person had not been put under inappropriate pressure at the conference, which is one of the concerns about FGCs, said Nixon. Most people involved in FGCs (80 percent) felt the process had decreased the likelihood of the young person reoffending. As one young offender explained, FGCs hold young people accountable within their family in a way the court system never does: “With this [FGC] it does show you how it affects the people around you. I think it’s better in that way because you don’t want to hurt the people you love.”
Overall, family members were more involved in FGCs than in court processes. However, said Nixon, there was greater difficulty getting families to attend youth justice FGCs than child welfare FGCs, even though the same coordinators were used. This might have been because of feelings of shame about the young people’s offenses, he said, or because families were not interested in the gathering or the food and just wanted to “get on with the job.” (Food-sharing time for family groups and professionals is usually part of an FGC.) At youth justice FGCs, participants “didn’t feel like eating,” said Nixon. However, he said, it was easier getting professionals to attend youth justice FGCs than child welfare FGCs.
The youth justice FGC project was committed to including victims’ perspectives in the decision-making process. Most victims were very positive about their inclusion, and their feedback about the process and the outcome was favorable. Seeing young people and their families in a different context often significantly changes the way a victim looks at an offender, said Nixon. FGCs transform the offender from an unseen and often feared individual to a young person seen in the context of his family, making him far more human. FGCs give offenders an opportunity to apologize for their actions firsthand to their victims, often leading to forgiveness and healing. As one victim commented, “He said sorry to me in the meeting. I could forgive him after that.” Nixon recollected the first youth justice FGC, which was about stealing a car. After the conference, he said, the victim drove the offender home in the car he’d stolen.
Victims are generally not included in private family time, when the family is left alone to discuss matters and make a plan, although “there are no hard and fast rules about this,” said Nixon. The thought behind holding private family time without victims, he said, is that the conference is about the young person, and that, left alone, the family will discuss concerns that they won’t discuss with non-family present. Victims don’t object to private family time, he said, because they know about it in advance. The key thing for victims is “having their say in the beginning,” said Nixon.
Another important aim of youth justice FGCs—reparation—was common in conferences but not in court. Again, this is likely a product of the face-to-face nature of the work between victims and families and the role families can take in helping the young person provide appropriate reparation to the victim. Agreed-upon actions in the pilot included paying back sums of money for damage done or items stolen, community service, or working directly or indirectly for the victim.
FGCs bring families together in unexpected ways, said Nixon. He recalled a conference in which a boy had smashed up a community cricket center. The family’s plan involved the youth and his father repairing the center together. The boy hadn’t seen his father in some time, and this plan helped them rebuild their relationship in a way no one had anticipated.
Ros Cassy, chief executive of the Hampton Trust, the NGO monitoring youth justice FGCs in Hampshire, is concerned about the present and future of the practice in the county. The Trust was commissioned to start youth justice FGCs in 1997. Initially, FGCs were done in the preventive phase—the first time a youth was cautioned. More recently, FGCs have been done as part of a court order. “It’s more difficult that way,” said Cassy. The plan developed in the FGC informs the sentence. “This has proved very complex,” she said.
“We had a different system before [Prime Minister] Blair,” said Cassy. Now, she said, “We’re in a punitive phase in the UK where youth justice is concerned.” The 1998 Crime and Disorder Act was a mixed blessing for FGCs, said Cassy. It was “good news in some ways,” because it mentioned FGCs. Also, local authorities were charged to work together and victims were addressed. Multiagency Youth Offender Teams (YOTs) were established, made up of police and probation officers, plus social services, health authority and education employees. There are 154 YOTs in the UK.
The establishment of YOTs was a critical change, said Cassy, in that it mandated that multiple local authorities have a say in managing every offending youth. Youth justice FGC referrals and funding now come from the YOTs. “We used to have fortnightly meetings with the police youth justice workers,” she said, “but that’s gone now, replaced by the YOTs, a more accountable system, much harsher, more punitive and ambivalent about restorative justice.” Far more children are being sent to prison now, she said, especially since the age of criminal responsibility (when a child can be prosecuted for a crime), has been lowered from 14 to 10. “An awful lot of what we do in this area seems to follow the United States,” added Cassy. Another problem is the powerful British tabloid press, with their “hang ’em and flog ’em attitude toward ‘evil’ young people,” which is “catching or leading the public mood,” she said.
The Hampton Trust is a voluntary, nonstatutory body. Since FGCs are not statutory, this “is a huge pressure for us,” said Cassy, “unlike in New Zealand.” Essex County, UK, has been more successful with youth justice FGCs, in that they have a cross-agency partnership of senior managers from social services, YOTs and the police dedicated to requiring people to use them, said Cassy, adding, “We would love to have a situation like that, where people must choose to opt out, not in” to the FGC process, and justify why they’re opting out. “Children have a right to this process,” she said, adding, “You won’t change behavior by sending kids to prison, but if you can help families address matters you will get a long-term result.”
A case study of a Hampshire youth justice FGC [formerly found at www.hamptontrust.org.uk/fgccasestudy.html] involved a 12-year-old boy who assaulted an ailing neighbor. The harm the boy caused was repaired with help from an FGC.
The Hampshire Family Group Conference Project in Education was established in 1998 to address the needs of young people who were experiencing serious problems in the education system. Hampshire is one of the largest counties in the UK, with 540 schools. The county has “an external image of leafy affluence, but pockets of extreme deprivation,” including an Educational Action Zone of high-priority need, said Liz Holton, project manager, Family Group Conferencing, Hampshire County Education Department. The FGC model is as valuable with well-off families as it is with those that are more deprived, she said. Holton called the project “an education-funded and based project using the New Zealand model to promote home-school partnerships.”
Children were referred to the project by staff within the education system. Referral could be for any problem relating to school, including behavioral difficulties, truancy, school phobia, bullying or being bullied and risk of temporary or permanent exclusion (also known as expulsion). Slightly less than half of the referrals were for truancy, slightly less than half for behavior problems, and the rest “a bit of both,” said Holton. Referral required a school’s full agreement, indicated by a head teacher signing a referral form, thereby showing a willingness to negotiate over the family’s plan and to participate in project evaluation.
In an evaluation of the first year of the pilot, in May of 1999, Gill Crow, University of Sheffield, who has written and researched extensively about family group conferencing in the UK, wrote that immediate outcomes of the conferences had been positive. Teachers were found to work well with the model, and coordinators were able to transfer skills they had learned in other types of FGCs and did not require additional training. The program, now no longer in the pilot stage, has been in progress for five years and is open to all Hampshire schools.
Holton did not note any significant difference between the child welfare and the education FGC models. Independent coordinators—the same ones who do child welfare and youth justice conferences—are used: a mix of social workers and those with other types of mediation and counseling backgrounds. The only difference in the models is in how to fit the conferences into the school day. Whether the FGC is held during the school day or after, both have implications for teachers. Still, teachers have responded positively to the process and welcomed the opportunity to involve the wider family group in the child’s difficulties at school. The project has helped with ongoing communication between schools and families, said Holton, and added that Crow’s research has indicated sustained improvement for six months to a year following an FGC.
One of the outstanding things about FGCs is the way they can effect small changes that have enormous impact, said Holton. She recounted the story of a 10-year-old boy on the verge of expulsion from school whose behavior problems took up five hours a week of his teacher’s time. The boy’s stepfather was terminally ill. An FGC was held, attended by the boy’s mother, his biological father, the father’s new partner, siblings, aunts, uncles, “the school dinner lady and even the postman,” said Holton. During the FGC, it was discovered that the boy, in addition to the rational fear of losing his dying father, had an irrational fear of losing his mother. The family came up with a plan for the boy to call his mother every day from the school office to allay his fears. The daily phone call had “a magical effect,” said Holton. More support from family members was also offered at the conference, as well as professional intervention, but it was the daily phone calls that turned the tide for the boy, who was able to cope when his father died.
Although a child may exhibit problems in school, it’s always the tip of the iceberg, said Holton. The child may be unwanted; there may be drug or alcohol issues at home. In school FGCs, parents bring their agendas to the meetings, just as they do in child welfare FGCs. And if one child is referred for a conference, there may be similar issues for his or her siblings. If a coordinator discovers this in conference preparations, the siblings’ issues will be addressed in the conference, too.
FGCs in education are becoming increasingly widespread in Hampshire. Holton hopes that they will eventually be used for children with special needs and disabilities, and that the child welfare, youth justice, domestic violence and education FGC projects will all be connected. She thinks it would make more sense to have a county FGC project instead of different projects, as there is a huge amount of overlap between them. She’d also like to see families make their own referrals.
Another important area for FGCs in Hampshire is in domestic violence cases. Although there has been apprehension about and resistance to FGC use in these situations, Hampshire’s program has been quite successful. Domestic violence FGCs in Hampshire are conducted in the towns of Basingstoke and Deane under the auspices of the Daybreak FGC Dove Project. Sharon Inglis was formerly manager of the project. (She is now coordinating a multiagency FGC project for the Children and Young People’s Directorate at West Berkshire County Council, UK)
Domestic violence FGCs had their origins in Hampshire in 1998, when Paul Nixon was commissioning officer for FGC. Nixon and Chief Inspector Paul Bright, of the Hampshire Constabulary Criminal Justice Department, were inspired by the work of the Family Group Decision Making Project of Newfoundland, Labrador and New Brunswick, co-directed by Joan Pennell and Gale Burford, which used an adaptation of New Zealand FGC to reduce domestic violence. It was clear from that project’s outcomes that FGC had been very successful with domestic violence in Canada, said Inglis.
Chief Inspector Bright conducted research into domestic violence and the use of FGCs in 2001-2002, comparing systems for dealing with domestic violence issues in the US with those in the UK, under the auspices of the Fulbright Scholarship for research into police issues. Bright found that domestic violence offenders are reluctant to change under the threat of punishment. His report concluded: “Placing men in prison separates couples and, if anything, can make the situation more volatile once the man is released.” [Report formerly at www.hampshire.police.uk/index.htm?Fulbright.htm]
Nixon asked for support for an FGC domestic violence project from the Basingstoke and Deane Borough Council on the basis that violence affects the entire community, said Inglis. Domestic violence was a high priority for the borough council, so it came up with money for the Dove Project pilot. Over a period of about a year-and-a-half, a pilot steering group was set up, which included representatives from the borough council, police, probation, social services, women’s refuges and various NGOs.
Inglis was appointed to run the two-year pilot in January 2001. Preliminary consulting work was done with the community, so as not to impose the program on them. Women’s and victims’ advocates were concerned about the safety aspects of putting victims and perpetrators together. Later on, after witnessing the success of FGCs, they became the project’s biggest supporters, said Inglis.
The pilot’s creators looked at the practice issue, asking how this project would differ from the usual FGC practice. One development was that all Dove Project coordinators took on an educative role in addition to a facilitative one. This takes skill, said Inglis. Dove Project coordinators are trained in domestic violence issues of power and control and their effect on relationship dynamics. They must be clear about what to look for, what’s OK and what’s not, and how to empower victims to leave abusive situations or stay in a way that keeps them safe.
The pilot’s creators had to decide whether to allow perpetrators in conferences. A strong case was made that this would be dangerous. What won in the end, said Inglis, was a “common sense argument.” Most of the female victims of domestic violence were living with these violent men, and it was felt that if the men didn’t attend the conference they would sabotage any outcome. Victims said, “Of course we want them to come. What’s the point of having a conference without them?” When most perpetrators were asked what their reaction would be if offered an FGC, they said they wouldn’t come—they wouldn’t want to hear themselves criticized. But, said Inglis, usually if they’re invited, they come. The only time a perpetrator is not invited to an FGC is when a woman has decided to leave an abusive situation. Those FGCs are about creating extended family support and safety for women to disengage from their partners, said Inglis.
Dove Project referral criteria included the presence of children in the family, residence in Basingstoke and Deane and an assurance that the conference would be safe. Project planners wondered how violent and manipulative men might try to influence or control women in the conferences, and this became part of the assessment process. “We needed to be convinced that the perpetrator would be willing to address his behavior,” said Inglis. “If he said, ‘Yeah, I hit her, she deserved it,’ then we had to face the woman and tell her an FGC was not going to happen.” Inglis emphasized that victims were not assessed vis-à-vis their suitability for an FGC, only perpetrators. Asked if she’s had cases where the woman is violent, Inglis said that a woman’s violence is generally retaliation—a reaction to a man’s violence—rather than about power and control, as is the case with a man’s violence. Little research has been done about women’s violence, she added.
Most Dove Project participants—both victims and perpetrators—come from violent families, said Inglis. There is a very high percentage of intergenerational violence, so victims are often adversely affected by well-meaning but very bad advice. For example, said Inglis, “We don’t want Granny saying: ‘I put up with it and we’re fine now.’” Accordingly, care must be taken in preparation. Family members are asked to talk about their views on domestic violence. Coordinators make it clear that violence is not acceptable and everyone who attends the FGC must be of the same mind.
Ensuring that the conference is safe is a major priority. Said Inglis, “At first we all thought that the perpetrators would blow their tops and storm out,” but this did not happen. Other family members might present dangers, she said, citing cases of victims’ brothers who want to “have a go at” perpetrators. But, she said, as with any FGC, preparation helps with these types of problems. Family members inform coordinators beforehand who is likely to explode so that trouble can be preempted. Inglis said that she had never seen any violence occur during a domestic violence-related FGC.
Pre-conference safety measures include spending time with the victim to learn the perpetrator’s characteristic manipulative behaviors, such as finger-tapping or certain kinds of looks. The coordinator builds strong relationships with both victims and perpetrators before the conference, treating both with respect. Said Inglis: “We may not like the fact that perpetrators are violent, but we treat them as vulnerable people and encourage their supporters to attend, along with the victims’ supporters.”
The police always know where and when a domestic violence FGC is being held, although it is preferable not to have a big police presence at the conference, said Inglis. The coordinator always has the police department on telephone speed-dial, but in two years, no coordinator has ever had to call the police during a domestic violence FGC. Police are also informed as to where participants will be after the conference, and are instructed to monitor the address for 36 hours. Police have never had to intervene post-conference.
In most cases, children attend FGCs with their parents. Some people were concerned that involving children in domestic violence FGCs might be abusive. But, said Inglis, the children said, “Listen, this is happening in my house,” and were glad for the chance to bring the facts into the open. A large proportion of families where domestic violence is a problem have many children. The first Dove Project FGC involved a family of eight children, ages three through 19. All the children wanted to have their say and tell their mother and father, “This is how it feels when you fight.” Older and younger children paired off and wrote things together. At the conference, older children read younger children’s words and everyone passed a talking stick. “It was immensely powerful,” said Inglis, adding: “That’s the emotional stuff that changes people’s behavior.”
At this family’s review conference several months later, said Inglis, the 10-year-old son, a “street-wise character,” told a story, tears in his eyes: “Last week we had a huge family row. People were hitting each other. I stood on the table and held up the plan [which the family had drawn up at the first conference] and said, ‘We need to do this!’ They told me, ‘He’s right. Let’s stop. Let’s meet ‘round the table and talk.’” The boy was describing a whole family learning how to behave together and heal, said Inglis, adding, “If we give children the feeling they have a place in the family, it has huge implications.”
As to conference outcomes, Inglis said, “I consider a conference a success if everybody feels safe and heard—I don’t care what the plan is.” Still, there has never been a Dove Project conference where the family didn’t devise some kind of plan. Moreover, Child Protective Services requires a safety plan if a child is on the protection register. Inglis noted that five children had been removed from the register post-FGC and considered that a huge success. Added Inglis, if a conference plan determines that a woman needs services, they’re easy to come by, because all the domestic violence services are involved via the project steering group.
Inglis hopes that domestic violence FGCs will begin all around the county and in other counties, as well. As an aside, Inglis said she thinks that domestic violence is much more dangerous in the United States than it is in the United Kingdom. “We don’t have guns,” she explained. Inglis believes that there are more domestic violence-related deaths in the US than there are in the UK because of the abundance of guns in the US. She said she thought it would be essential to establish weapon and gun rules for domestic violence FGCs in the US.
The overseer of the Dove Project, Daybreak FGC, an NGO founded in 1999, has been involved in many other FGC projects throughout Hampshire. A major priority for Daybreak is to expand community involvement, especially that of children, in their programs. Marilyn Taylor, director of Daybreak, and Melissa Hansen, manager of Daybreak’s Portsmouth Community Partnership FGC Project, addressed the issue of community involvement in their presentation at the IIRP's fourth international conference in Veldhoven, Netherlands, in August 2003. Taylor believes that the Dove Project’s lengthy period of consultation with the local community, particularly women’s groups, was essential to its success.
In Taylor and Hansen’s vision of community involvement: children of all ages are allowed to attend their own FGC; families are able to directly refer themselves for an FGC; children are able to directly refer themselves and their families for an FGC; families and communities may decide the criteria for access to an FGC program; and children and young people are part of the hiring process for FGC program staff. They realize that these notions are controversial. Hansen cited being hired in her current manager position as an example of the type of community involvement she and Taylor endorse; a young person who had participated in an FGC was on the interview panel that chose her. Hansen termed this: “progressive and wonderful.”
Said Taylor, “FGCs as a whole empower children and families, and the community involvement process takes that empowerment another step forward. It’s they who tell us right from the beginning how to shape and how to evaluate the program, telling us what questions we should be asking. We feel very passionately that any organization that delivers family group conferencing ought to have an organization culture that is in line with the values of family group conferencing. It should be about participation and democratic processes.”
Taylor discussed the difference between community-led FGCs and those led by the state. Most of the FGC programs in England and elsewhere across the world, she said, are set up by child welfare or youth justice agencies. Because they provide the money, they decide what the programs are like. In child welfare situations, she said, agencies decide when FGCs will be held, for example, when they perceive that a child is at risk, when a child protection situation has come into court, when a child might be taken into state care or when a child is making a transition from care back into the community. These are all highly appropriate situations for an FGC, said Taylor. “But in a community-led FGC process,” she said, “We don’t come in and dictate the terms under which FGCs are held.”
Instead, there’s an initial period of consultation with key people in the community, plus workshops in youth centers and schools, during which basic concepts of FGC are explained. People are then asked to talk about issues in their community and about how FGCs, often a scare resource, should be used. “We take referrals directly from families, and find that the nature of the problems that they want to address are different from referrals from the social services department,” said Taylor.
Asked what kinds of issues families want to see addressed, Taylor mentioned one example: parental access to children. She cited a situation in which a family with a small boy had been split up. The mother had a history of drug and alcohol abuse, so the father and his new wife were caring for the boy. Two years later, the mother had achieved sobriety and wanted more contact with her child. For the father and step-mother, how and if the boy’s biological mother should come back into his life was a real issue. There was fear about her drug and alcohol abuse. “The child was not being neglected, so there was no way that the department of social services would have taken this on. But the family really wanted the conference, and there were a number of similar situations,” said Taylor.
New government-funded programs have begun in England in the last five years with objectives very much in line with Daybreak’s philosophy: to involve children, families and communities in the delivery of local services, said Taylor. The Sure Start programs are aimed at children under four, Children’s Fund programs at children under 13, and Connexions programs at children over 13. Daybreak has had successful partnerships with these programs and is planning more. Its partnership with Sure Start in Somerstown, Portsmouth, has taken referrals directly from families in a minority community, with poor housing and high unemployment, and has worked really well, said Taylor. Other Sure Start and Children’s Fund programs in other deprived communities across Portsmouth were impressed by what Daybreak was doing. So Daybreak’s Portsmouth Community Partnership Family Group Conferencing Program was formed, involving several Sure Start and Children’s Fund programs, and the Portsmouth Social Services and Education departments.
As manager of this program, Hansen is dealing with a number of entities coming together. How, she asked, do you make sure that everyone gets a fair shake, that some entities don’t dominate the project, and how do you make it truly reflective of the community? This will be a challenge, as these diverse agencies may have different agendas, said Taylor, “but they are all committed to a community-led program and to working with Daybreak to achieve this. With this program we will make sure that young people will be involved with everything we do.”
Across the political spectrum in England, “There’s an idea that we should be diverting funds to enable citizen participation in services that are provided for them,” said Taylor. Sure Start and Children’s Fund programs are part of this initiative. “It’s such a high priority of the government now to involve communities in programs that if you don’t do it, you won’t get funded the next time around,” she said. The financial support that Daybreak recently obtained from the Children’s Fund will enable, indeed compel them, to make connections with schools and youth groups. “The first thing we’re going to do is have a community consultation with young people, using focus groups, to say to them: this is what this program is in the town, this is what it looks like. How do you think young people like yourselves might be enabled to have access to it?”
Taylor said she didn’t know what the outcome of this consultation would be, adding, “When we started the Dove Project, people said, ‘What do you mean, you’re going to put the perpetrator and the victim in the same room together? You’re mad!’ And we spent two years working with the community around that. And in a way it feels like we’re in the same position now. People are saying, ‘What do you mean you’ll take referrals directly from children?’ So we are exploring it with the children, with the people in the community, to try and sort out our policy. We haven’t got the answers. Maybe by next year we’ll be able to tell you a bit more.”
The Restorative Practices eForum will continue to report on FGDM and FGC programs in the future.
- Written by Laura Mirsky
The Wet'suwet'en Unlocking Aboriginal Justice Program (WUAJ) is a community-driven restorative justice project initiated and operated by members of the Wet’suwet’en First Nation, in northwest British Columbia, Canada. The WUAJ was first developed in 1992, in response to the Wet’suwet’en people’s dissatisfaction with the Canadian judicial system and the disproportionate number of Aboriginal people involved in the federal and provincial court systems. The population of the Wet’suwet’en Nation is approximately 5,000. A matrilineal descent group, the Wet’suwet’en is made up of five clans: Laksilyu—Small Frog, Gilseyhu—Frog, Tsayu—Beaver, Gitdumden—Bear and Laksamishu—Fireweed, which are subdivided into 13 houses.
WUAJ Justice Coordinator Bonnie George and Youth Victim Advocate Lucy Glaim made a presentation about the program at the IIRP’s 4th International Conference on Conferencing, Circles and other Restorative Practices in August 2003, in Veldhoven, Netherlands.
George and Glaim work with a community of about 650 people. George articulated the program’s mission: “WUAJ means to achieve the alternative that will allow our traditional laws and practices as Aboriginal people to combine with the existing Canadian justice system.” She stressed that Aboriginal laws and practices had been in use “for thousands and thousands of years before contact” with non-natives. “For the Aboriginal people, justice is part of our life,” she said, adding, “Problems that occur are looked at holistically.”
WUAJ works with a board of elders, including hereditary chiefs, that meets on a regular monthly basis. “What we intend with their guidance,” said George, “is to build a healthy support network and reconnect our young people back to their culture and heritage—build their identity.” Continued George, “It’s not a matter of creating a new system, we’re not reinventing the wheel.” Instead, the goal is to uncover long-standing laws and practices and have them recognized.
The WUAJ is funded jointly by the federal government of Canada and the provincial government of British Columbia. “They gave us an opportunity 12 years ago to do research and development, but because of the demand we went to implementation right away. So we’re developing as we go along,” said George, adding, “We don’t sit back and wait for the government to provide services. We want self-sufficiency and that’s where our program comes in.”
Before helping to found WUAJ, George was a secretary-receptionist in the Smithers Legal Aid Office. (Smithers is the largest town within the Wet’suwet’en Territory.) She said that the experience helped her set up the WUAJ office. She obtained a certificate in human social services with a law component and did her practicum at a law firm in Smithers, then completed a probation officer course at the University of Northern British Columbia. “That helped me put everything in perspective,” said George. Previous to working with WUAJ, Glaim was an accountant. “I haven’t left my skills behind,” she said. It helps her when working with statistical data and analysis and writing proposals. She is now taking classes in developmental psychology.
George described the differences between the Wet’suwet’en and the Canadian (or Western) justice systems. In the Wet’suwet’en system, both the offender and the victim are drawn into the process. The Western justice system concentrates on the offender; usually the only victim involvement consists of providing a victim impact statement. In the Wet’suwet’en approach, decisions are made by consensus, aiming to restore balance and harmony in a fair, just way. The Western system is adversarial; strangers make decisions on behalf of others, without emotional involvement. “With our system,” said George, “because of our relationships and our kinship, we’re all connected to each other one way or another, and those are the people that are making the decisions. They know our strengths and weaknesses, and they know the dynamics of the families and what the issues are without trying to analyze it by justice system reports—criminal records, police reports and so on.”
The WUAJ’s focus on restoring balance and harmony within the community contrasts with the Western system’s crisis orientation. “They don’t act unless there’s criminal activity,” said George. “But we focus on support and prevention before an offense is committed. Lucy does a lot of work within the schools with children, building self-esteem and identity.” Other prevention initiatives include workshops addressing spousal abuse and traditional activities aimed at revitalizing Wet’suwet’en culture.
Within the 13 Wet’suwet’en houses are house chiefs—leaders groomed from childhood by the father clan. “They’re not just elected—that’s compared to the federal election system,” said George, adding, “Our board consists of members from each of the clans and houses, to ensure that everyone that we deal with is represented. Depending on the severity of the case, like if we’re dealing with a domestic violence situation and there’s a spouse involved, Lucy would take the victim and I would work with the offender and when we come to the table to try to develop a plan of action or a contract agreement all parties are involved. We’ll draw on all the individuals, and everyone knows what their role is.”
The majority of WUAJ files are related to family violence, alcohol or drugs. WUAJ accepts self-referrals, as well as referrals from Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP), lawyers and Legal Aid, Crown Council and probation. Diversion referrals from RCMP include first-time offenses from youths or adults with no prior criminal record—minor offenses like shoplifting. If clients don’t meet the criteria for diversion, i.e., if they have a prior criminal record, the RCMP will recommend them to the Crown for alternative measures. Self-referrals may occur at any stage. Glaim said that the sooner a referral comes in after the problem occurs the better “because the significance tends to wear away. And it’s very important that the one who has caused the problem realize the consequences of their actions.”
Many WUAJ clients have fetal alcohol syndrome (FAS) and have difficulty understanding consequences, said Glaim. Fortunately, the WUAJ program provides the opportunity to track and follow up behavioral patterns. Glaim talked about a case where the client was involved first at a diversion level, then at an alternative measures level. The first time was a mischief case; the next one was a little more serious. After the first incident—throwing rocks—a circle was conducted. Glaim was the facilitator. The victim was the school principal, who acted on behalf of the school. The offender attended with his mother. The offender had FAS, said Glaim, “so the circle was effective and meaningful, and he understood the consequences because we acted upon it quickly. But he was 10 years old then. Now he’s 16 and he got into a bit more trouble.” It was important to recognize the boy’s patterns and needs and help him develop behaviors that will become habit rather than something that he has to remember, said Glaim, “like brushing your teeth at night is a habit rather than something you have to remember.” Added Glaim, “We were able to see his pattern develop and focus in on it. We’re just so lucky that we’re within the community and can recognize these things.” This circumstance, she said, is unlike the situation in the Canadian justice system, where the RCMP and the Crown are so separate that they know nothing about each other’s files.
All clients must be involved in the WUAJ program by voluntary consent and be willing to take responsibility for their actions. When all parties have accepted the referral, a house group meeting is scheduled for the development of adequate support and construction of a rehabilitation plan, or contract. All parties (offender, victim, clan and family) must reach a consensus as to the terms of the contract. An agreement for services is drawn and signed by all parties. Copies of the contract agreement of services are distributed to the members involved. If the participant is sentenced to serve a term of probation, the WUAJ justice worker supervises the court order. If the client re-offends, a house group meeting is scheduled to address the concerns, either by redesigning the plan of action or terminating the file. The advisory board determines if the file is closed and referred back to the referring agency.
The contract may require that the offender participate in a culture camp. Culture camps educate children, youth and adults about Wet’suwet’en culture and traditions through guidance and counsel by elders and hereditary chiefs, including instruction in legends, songs and dancing, as well as traditional hunting and food preparation.
Camps often have a therapeutic component, and George and Glaim can tailor-make men’s and women’s culture camps to accommodate clients’ needs. “Two years ago there was a murder in our community,” said George, “and Lucy and I focused on working with the families that were affected by the murder: the accused’s side of the family and the victim’s side of the family.” George and Glaim worked to eliminate the divisions that were developing in the community due to the murder. “It wasn’t healthy for the children,” said George. “Lucy worked with the victim’s family, looking at the stages of grief, and we found that very helpful, especially when it came down to the court’s decision, when they dismissed the charges. That was overwhelming for the family members. Both Lucy and I were in the courtroom the day the decision was handed down. Looking around the room that day at the family members that we had prepared, that we had invested the time and energy in, compared to some of the family members that didn’t participate, there was a huge difference. We helped them build their coping skills for what was going to happen on that day.”
Youth activities at a Wet'suwet'en culture camp.
An important component of Wet’suwet’en justice is the denii ne’aas, or potlatch (feast), “a powerful traditional governing system for us,” said George. At a potlatch, which is sometimes attended by hundreds of people, all the clans and chiefs come together and a public apology is made. “It’s a time-consuming process and there’s a lot of work that leads up to it,” said George, “working with the elders and learning about your culture and your traditions and your identity as a Wet’suwet’en person. This is where the camp comes in. Once we accomplish that, everything else comes easy. That’s where we come to a healthy conclusion and everyone agrees with it.” George contrasted this process to the Western justice system, in which some form of punishment is imposed—jail, fines or probation.
The Wet’suwet’en justice system is decentralized, addressing all individuals—male and female, chiefs and children, said George. This is unlike the centralized Canadian system, which is controlled by RCMP, Crown Council, lawyers and judges. Moreover, said George, Wet’suwet’en laws can’t be codified. Decisions are made according to the nature of the offense, the relationship between the victim and the offender and the ties and kinship connection. “What I do affects my family, affects Lucy,” said George. “Because she’s my father clan and I’m her father clan, we have a responsibility to each other. If I get into trouble, I’m not only shaming myself, I’m shaming my family. It’s my family that’s going to come together at a feast, and where it’s going to hit people the hardest is their pocket book. When you have a feast you have to feed your guests, and you’re feeding 200 people. You have to make sure everyone is fed and comfortable, and then the business starts. And you also have to have gifts to give to everyone, and when you’re doing it for 200 people it costs an awful lot.”
Asked to tell a WUAJ success story, Glaim talked about a family violence case—a self-referral by a woman who stabbed her husband after a night of drinking and fighting. At first the woman wouldn’t accept responsibility for her actions, minimized the situation and denied her problems with alcohol, anger and past unresolved issues. She came to the elders’ advisory board to make an oral application, still in denial. One board member was able to share a story of a similar problem in his past and relate how he overcame it. He confronted her denial, and, said Glaim, “at the end of the day, she was ready and willing to work on her issues because they became reality. The elder, without a Ph.D. in counseling, just broke through that wall that she was hiding behind. He related how he had been in denial and shared his experience. He didn’t look at her like she was a bad person; he recognized her victimhood. That’s when she broke down and accepted that she was a victim as well and realized that she had to work on it and go on from there.”
A plan of action was developed, based on consensus. The victim and offender had to agree to each condition. The biggest stipulation was that the offender had to publicly apologize in a feast, hosted by her clan. The couple still lived together. “Rather than having a no-contact order,” said Glaim, “the couple wanted to work it out and we were there to guide the process. They just needed the support.”
The feast was really emotional and opened up the community, said Glaim. “A lot of people in the community still don’t know what WUAJ is about, but seeing that part of the process in a public forum … The offender was walked back in by her father clan, and her father clan spoke about how she was working to better herself and make the positive changes in the past year-and-a-half. So her work bettering herself was validated publicly, and she presented the gift to her father clan. Then she presented the gift to her husband as well and publicly apologized to him. It was really emotional.”
Said George, “You saw a lot of tears, but they were happy tears, because they had witnessed a public apology. That’s a perfect example of taking full responsibility for her actions and understanding their severity. She talked about being that close to taking her husband’s life and how it could have ended differently. Even his mother, who was reluctant about the process—I was watching her, because that’s the same clan I belong to—Small Frog—even she was in tears. After she went to present her gifts, everyone was huddled in the corner holding one another, so grateful about what had just happened, taking a look at life differently. It was a very powerful experience.”
Asked how the community as a whole feels about their work, George said that there’s a misconception that WUAJ selects and favors certain clients. But, said George, “We accept clients who will take responsibility for their actions.” Also, some offenders at first might regard the WUAJ program as an easy way out, “so we make sure they figure out what they want out of it and why they’re coming there,” said Glaim. Offenders meet with the advisory board and make oral application to go through the screening process to see if they’re eligible. Usually, said Glaim, due to their wide-ranging life experiences, the chiefs can tell what’s really at issue for the person. “Even though the offender may come there with the notion that we’re an easy way out, they often get turned around and see the benefits of the program.”
In fact, said George, the program is the opposite of an easy way out, because it doesn’t enable self-destructive behavior. “People are used to having that enabler,” she said, “because of the dysfunction of the community and the limited resources that we do have: support workers in the community with limited training, hired by the Canadian government’s Department of Indian Affairs. Those workers end up enabling, keeping the level of denial where it is.”
A long-term WUAJ goal is to help reverse the damage done to the Wet’suwet’en people by the residential school program. Residential schools were the primary mechanism by which non-native Canadians sought to assimilate First Nation people. The Anglican Church administered 26 such schools between 1820 and 1969. Children were taken from their parents and virtually enslaved at the schools, forced to renounce their language and customs and often sexually abused. People who came out of these schools need to be helped to articulate their feelings, said Glaim. “There’s a whole set of skills we have to learn for that. It’s a difficult process, but it has to be done.” WUAJ, she said, recently had a proposal accepted for a parenting and life skills program. “Because of the residential schools, we’ve lost our parenting skills,” she said, adding, “We’ll be working with parents, relearning skills and teaching the teens so the next generation will have a stepping stone up.” Said George: “It’s going to take us multi-generations to undo what was done in one generation as a result of those residential schools.”
George stressed that any program needs to be community-driven. “You can’t look at it as a cookie cutter approach,” she said. “You can’t take a Wet’suwet’en program into Mohawk Territory and expect it to work, because that’s like fitting a circle into a square. When your community members feel like there’s something being imposed on them, there’s going to be some reluctance and they’re going to feel that the residential school era has repeated itself. So the advice that I would give to any kind of restorative approach is to keep that in mind, especially with First Nations communities. They have their guards up all the time because we’re overcoming that residential school era, and we are the only ones to say how much it impacted us. People can be empathetic to it, but we are the ones that are living in the community and see the harm that was done.”
Asked about the future of the WUAJ, George said that funding now comes from both the federal and the provincial government, but added, “Who knows what’s going to happen? We used to have multi-year agreements; now it’s just year-by-year.” George said that according to her experience working with the federal government, this is their way of weaning or cutting programs. “So we’re always working with our guard up,” she said, “wondering if we’re going to be funded for the following year.” But, she added, “I strongly feel that with our existing board the work’s not going to stop. If the funding stops, the work’s going to carry on. Because we’re clan and community members, we’re still going to carry on the work. It will come from my volunteer work and my obedience and respect as a hereditary chief and from my responsibility to the other members of my father clan. Family is very important to me—my father clan and the whole culture and tradition.” Added Glaim, “I think it’s all a community initiative. We’re the facilitators of the process, but we’re giving back to the community the skills they need to do it on their own. It’s going to take a few generations, but hopefully we’ll work ourselves out of a job.”
The Restorative Practices eForum will feature more information about First Nation and Native American justice practices in the coming months.
- Written by Paul McCold
Paper presented at the XIII World Congress of Criminology,
10-15 August 2003, Rio de Janeiro.
Restorative justice is a new way of looking at criminal justice that focuses on repairing the harm done to people and relationships rather than on punishing offenders. Originating in the 1970s as mediation between victims and offenders, in the 1990s restorative justice broadened to include communities of care as well, with victims’ and offenders’ families and friends participating in collaborative processes called “conferences” and “circles.” This new focus on healing and the related empowerment of those affected by a crime seems to have great potential for enhancing social cohesion in our increasingly disconnected societies. Restorative justice and its emerging practices constitute a promising new area of study for social science.
In this paper, we propose a conceptual theory of restorative justice so that social scientists may test these theoretical concepts and their validity in explaining and predicting the effects of restorative justice practices. The foundational postulate of restorative justice is that crime harms people and relationships and that justice requires the healing of the harm as much as possible. Out of this basic premise arise key questions: who is harmed, what are their needs and how can those needs be met?
A CONCEPTUAL THEORY OF RESTORATIVE JUSTICE
Restorative justice is a collaborative process involving those most directly affected by a crime, called the “primary stakeholders,” in determining how best to repair the harm caused by the offense. But who are the primary stakeholders in restorative justice and how shall they be involved in the search for justice? Our proposed theory of restorative justice has three distinct but related conceptual structures: the Social Discipline Window (Wachtel, 1997, 2000; Wachtel & McCold, 2000), Stakeholder Roles (McCold, 1996, 2000) and the Restorative Practices Typology (McCold, 2000; McCold & Wachtel, 2002). Each of these, in turn, explains the how, what and who of restorative justice theory.
Social Discipline Window
Figure 1. Social Discipline Window
Everyone with an authority role in society faces choices in deciding how to maintain social discipline: parents raising children, teachers in classrooms, employers supervising employees or justice professionals responding to criminal offences. Until recently, Western societies have relied on punishment, usually perceived as the only effective way to discipline those who misbehave or commit crimes.
Punishment and other choices are illustrated by the Social Discipline Window (Figure 1), which is created by combining two continuums: “control,” exercising restraint or directing influence over others, and “support,” nurturing, encouraging or assisting others. For simplicity, the combinations from each of the two continuums are limited to “high” and “low.” Clear limit-setting and diligent enforcement of behavioral standards characterize high social control. Vague or weak behavioral standards and lax or nonexistent regulation of behavior characterize low social control. Active assistance and concern for well-being characterize high social support. Lack of encouragement and minimal provision for physical and emotional needs characterize low social support. By combining a high or low level of control with a high or low level of support the Social Discipline Window defines four approaches to the regulation of behavior: punitive, permissive, neglectful and restorative.
The punitive approach, with high control and low support, is also called “retributive.” It tends to stigmatize people, indelibly marking them with a negative label. The permissive approach, with low control and high support, is also called “rehabilitative” and tends to protect people from experiencing the consequences of their wrongdoing. Low control and low support are simply neglectful, an approach characterized by indifference and passivity.
The restorative approach, with high control and high support, confronts and disapproves of wrongdoing while affirming the intrinsic worth of the offender. The essence of restorative justice is collaborative problem-solving. Restorative practices provide an opportunity for those who have been most affected by an incident to come together to share their feelings, describe how they were affected and develop a plan to repair the harm done or prevent a reoccurrence. The restorative approach is reintegrative, allowing the offender to make amends and shed the offender label.
Four words serve as a shorthand to distinguish the four approaches: NOT, FOR, TO and WITH. If neglectful, one would NOT do anything in response to offending behavior. If permissive, one would do everything FOR the offender, asking little in return and often making excuses for the wrongdoing. If punitive, one would respond by doing things TO the offender, admonishing and punishing, but asking little thoughtful or active involvement of the offender. If restorative, one engages WITH the offender and others, encouraging active and thoughtful involvement from the offender and inviting all others affected by the offense to participate directly in the process of healing and accountability. Cooperative engagement is a critical element of restorative justice.
Figure 2. Stakeholder Roles
The second structure of our theory of restorative justice, the Stakeholder Roles (Figure 2), relates the harm caused by the offense to the specific needs of each stakeholder created by that offense, and to the restorative responses required to meet those needs. This causal structure distinguishes the interests of the primary stakeholders—those most affected by a specific offense—from those indirectly affected.
The primary stakeholders are, principally, the victims and offenders, because they are the most directly affected. But those who have a significant emotional connection with a victim or offender, such as parents, spouses, siblings, friends, teachers or co-workers, are also directly affected. They constitute the victims’ and offenders’ communities of care. The harm done, needs created and the restorative responses of primary stakeholders are specific to the particular offense and require active participation to achieve the greatest healing.
The secondary stakeholders include those who live nearby or those who belong to educational, religious, social or business organizations whose area of responsibility or participation includes the place or people affected by the incident. The whole of society, as represented by government officials, is also a secondary stakeholder. The harm to both sets of secondary stakeholders is vicarious and impersonal; their needs are aggregate, not specific, and their most restorative response is to support restorative processes in general.
All primary stakeholders need an opportunity to express their feelings and have a say in how to repair the harm. Victims are harmed by the loss of control they experience as a result of the offense. They need to regain a sense of personal power. This empowerment is what transforms victims into survivors. Offenders damage their relationships with their own communities of care by betraying trust. To regain that trust, they need to be empowered to take responsibility for their wrongdoing. Their communities of care meet their needs by ensuring that something is done about the incident, that its wrongfulness is acknowledged, that constructive steps are taken to prevent further offending and that victims and offenders are reintegrated into their respective communities.
The secondary stakeholders, those who are not emotionally connected to the specific victims and offenders, must not steal the conflict from those to whom it belongs by interfering with the opportunity for healing and reconciliation. The most restorative response for the secondary stakeholders is to support and facilitate processes in which the primary stakeholders determine for themselves the outcome of the case. Such processes will reintegrate both victims and offenders and simultaneously strengthen civil society by enhancing social cohesion and empowering and improving the citizenry’s ability to solve its own problems.
Restorative Practices Typology
Figure 3. Restorative Practices Typology
Restorative justice is a process involving the primary stakeholders in determining how best to repair the harm done by an offense. The three primary stakeholders in restorative justice are victims, offenders and their communities of care, whose needs are, respectively, getting reparation, taking responsibility and achieving reconciliation. The degree to which all three are involved in meaningful emotional exchange and decision-making is the degree to which any form of social discipline can be termed fully “restorative.” These three sets of primary stakeholders are represented by the three overlapping circles in Figure 3. The very process of interacting is critical to meeting stakeholders’ emotional needs. The emotional exchange necessary for meeting the needs of all those directly affected cannot occur with only one set of stakeholders participating. The most restorative processes involve the active participation of all three sets of primary stakeholders.
When criminal justice practices involve only one group of primary stakeholders, as in the case of governmental financial compensation for victims, the process can only be called “partly restorative.” When a process such as victim-offender mediation includes two principal stakeholders but excludes their communities of care, the process is “mostly restorative.” Only when all three sets of primary stakeholders are actively involved, such as in conferences or circles, is a process “fully restorative.”
Crimes harm people and relationships. Justice requires that harm be repaired as much as possible. Restorative justice is not done because it is deserved, but because it is needed. Restorative justice is ideally achieved through a cooperative process involving all the primary stakeholders in determining how best to repair the harm done by the offense.
The conceptual theory presented here provides the framework for a comprehensive answer to the how, what and who of the restorative justice paradigm. The Social Discipline Window describes how conflict can be transformed into cooperation. The Stakeholder Roles structure demonstrates that repair of the emotional and relational harm necessitates the empowerment of the primary stakeholders, those most directly affected. The Restorative Practices Typology demonstrates why participation of the victims, offenders and their communities of care are all required to repair the harm caused by the criminal act.
A criminal justice system that merely doles out punishment to offenders and sidelines victims does not address the emotional or relational needs of those who have been affected by crime. In a world where people feel increasingly alienated, restorative justice restores and builds positive feelings and relationships. A restorative criminal justice system aims not just to reduce crime, but to reduce the impact of crime as well. The capacity of restorative justice to address these emotional and relational needs and engage the citizenry in doing so is the key to achieving and sustaining a healthy civil society.
McCold, P. (1996). Restorative justice and the role of community. In B. Galaway & J. Hudson (Eds.), Restorative Justice: International Perspectives (pp. 85-102). Monsey, NY: Criminal Justice Press.
McCold, P. (2000). Toward a mid-range theory of restorative criminal justice: A reply to the Maximalist model. Contemporary Justice Review, 3(4), 357-414.
McCold, P., & Wachtel, T. (2002). Restorative justice theory validation. In E. Weitekamp and H-J. Kerner (Eds.), Restorative Justice: Theoretical Foundations (pp. 110-142). Devon, UK: Willan Publishing.
Wachtel, T. (1997). Real Justice: How to Revolutionize our Response to Wrongdoing. Pipersville, PA: Piper’s Press.
Wachtel, T. (2000). Restorative practices with high-risk youth. In G. Burford & J. Hudson (Eds.), Family Group Conferencing: New Directions in Community Centered Child & Family Practice (pp. 86-92). Hawthorne, NY: Aldine de Gruyter.
Wachtel, T., & McCold, P. (2000). Restorative justice in everyday life. In J. Braithwaite and H. Strang (Eds.), Restorative Justice in Civil Society (pp. 117-125). New York: Cambridge University Press.
- Written by Paul McCold
Ponencia presentada en el XIII Congreso Mundial sobre Criminología,
del 10 al 15 de agosto de 2003, en Rîo de Janeiro.
La justicia restaurativa es una nueva manera de considerar a la justicia penal la cual se concentra en reparar el daño causado a las personas y a las relaciones más que en castigar a los delincuentes. La justicia restaurativa surgió en la década de los años 70 como una forma de mediación entre víctimas y delincuentes y en la década de los años 90 amplió su alcance para incluir también a las comunidades de apoyo, con la participación de familiares y amigos de las víctimas y los delincuentes en procedimientos de colaboración denominados “reuniones de restauración” y “círculos.” Este nuevo enfoque en el proceso de subsanación para las personas afectadas por un delito y la obtención de control personal asociado parece tener un gran potencial para optimizar la cohesión social en nuestras sociedades cada vez más indiferentes. La justicia restaurativa y sus prácticas emergentes constituyen una nueva y promisoria área de estudio para las ciencias sociales.
En la presente ponencia, proponemos una teoría conceptual sobre la justicia restaurativa para que los científicos sociales puedan evaluar estos conceptos teóricos y su validez para explicar y predecir los resultados de las prácticas de justicia restaurativa. El postulado fundamental de la justicia restaurativa es que el delito perjudica a las personas y las relaciones y que la justicia necesita la mayor subsanación del daño posible. De esta premisa básica surgen preguntas clave: ¿quién es el perjudicado, cuáles son sus necesidades y cómo se pueden satisfacer dichas necesidades?
UNA TEORÍA CONCEPTUAL SOBRE JUSTICIA RESTAURATIVA
La justicia restaurativa es un proceso de colaboración que involucra a las “partes interesadas primarias,” es decir, a las personas afectadas de forma más directa por un delito, en la determinación de la mejor manera de reparar el daño causado por el delito. Pero, ¿quiénes son las partes interesadas primarias en la justicia restaurativa y cómo deben participar en la búsqueda de la justicia? La teoría de justicia restaurativa que proponemos cuenta con tres estructuras conceptuales distintas pero relacionadas: la Ventana de la disciplina social (Wachtel 1997, 2000; Wachtel & McCold 2000), la Función de las partes interesadas (McCold 1996, 2000), y la Tipología de las prácticas restaurativas (McCold 2000; McCold & Wachtel, 2002). Cada una de ellas, a su vez, explica el cómo, qué y quién de la teoría de justicia restaurativa.
Ventana de la disciplina social
Figura 1. Ventana de la disciplina social
Toda persona en la sociedad con un papel que suponga autoridad enfrenta opciones al decidir cómo mantener la disciplina social: los padres que educan a sus hijos, los maestros en las aulas, los empleadores que supervisan a los empleados o los profesionales de la justicia que actúan ante los delitos. Hasta hace poco las sociedades occidentales se basaban en el castigo, generalmente percibido como la única manera eficaz de disciplinar a aquellas personas que proceden mal o cometen un delito.
El castigo y otras opciones están ilustrados en la Ventana de la disciplina social (Figura 1), la cual se genera mediante la combinación de dos secuencias: “control,” imponer limitaciones o ejercer influencia sobre otros, y “apoyo,” enseñar, estimular o asistir a otros. Por razones de simplicidad, las combinaciones de cada una de las dos secuencias se limitan a “alto” y “bajo.” Un control social alto se caracteriza por la imposición de límites bien definidos y el pronto cumplimiento de los principios conductuales. Un control social bajo se caracteriza por principios conductuales imprecisos o débiles y normas de conducta poco estrictas o inexistentes. Un apoyo social alto se caracteriza por la asistencia activa y el interés por el bienestar. Un apoyo social bajo se caracteriza por la falta de estímulo y la mínima consideración por las necesidades físicas y emocionales. Mediante la combinación de un nivel alto o bajo de control con un nivel alto o bajo de apoyo la Ventana de la disciplina social define cuatro enfoques para la reglamentación de la conducta: punitivo, permisivo, negligente y restaurativo.
El enfoque punitivo, con control alto y apoyo bajo, se denomina también “retributivo.” Tiende a estigmatizar a las personas, marcándolas indeleblemente con una etiqueta negativa. El enfoque permisivo, con control bajo y apoyo alto, se denomina también “rehabilitativo” y tiende a proteger a las personas para que no sufran las consecuencias de sus delitos. Un control bajo y un apoyo bajo son simplemente negligentes, un enfoque caracterizado por la indeferencia y la pasividad.
El enfoque restaurativo, con control alto y apoyo alto, confronta y desaprueba los delitos al tiempo que ratifica el valor intrínseco de los delincuentes. La esencia de la justicia restaurativa es la resolución de problemas de manera colaboradora. Las prácticas restaurativas brindan una oportunidad para que aquellas personas que se hayan visto más afectadas por un incidente se reúnan para compartir sus sentimientos, describir cómo se han visto afectadas y desarrollar un plan para reparar el daño causado o evitar que ocurra nuevamente. El enfoque restaurativo es reintegrativo y permite que el delincuente se rectifique y se quite la etiqueta de delincuente.
Cuatro palabras sirven como referencia para distinguir los cuatro enfoques: NO, POR, AL y CON. Si el enfoque es negligente, NO se hará nada en respuesta a la conducta delictiva. Si es permisivo, se hará todo POR el delincuente, pidiendo poco a cambio y a menudo tratando de justificar el delito. Si es punitivo, se responderá haciéndole algo AL delincuente, amonestándolo y castigándolo, pero esperando poca participación reflexiva o activa por parte del delincuente. Si es restaurativo, se comprometerá CON el delincuente y otras personas, fomentando una participación activa y reflexiva por parte del delincuente e invitando a todas aquellas personas afectadas por el delito a participar directamente en el proceso de subsanación y de aceptación de responsabilidad. El compromiso cooperativo es un elemento fundamental de la justicia restaurativa.
Función de las partes interesadas.
Figura 2. Función de las partes interesadas
La segunda estructura de nuestra teoría de justicia restaurativa, las Funciones de las partes interesadas (Figura 2), relaciona el daño ocasionado por el delito con las necesidades específicas de cada parte interesada que surgieron a partir de dicho delito y con las respuestas restaurativas necesarias para satisfacer dichas necesidades. Esta estructura causal diferencia los intereses de las partes interesadas primarias -aquellas personas más afectadas por un delito específico- de los de las personas indirectamente afectadas.
Las partes interesadas primarias son, principalmente, las víctimas y los delincuentes puesto que son las partes más afectadas directamente. Pero aquellos que tienen una conexión afectiva importante con la víctima o el delincuente, como por ejemplo, padres, cónyuges, hermanos, amigos, maestros o compañeros de trabajo, también se ven directamente afectados. Ellos constituyen las comunidades de apoyo de las víctimas y los delincuentes. El daño ocasionado, las necesidades creadas y las respuestas restaurativas de las partes interesadas primarias son específicas del delito en particular y exigen una participación activa para lograr el mayor nivel de subsanación.
Las partes interesadas secundarias incluyen a aquellas personas que viven cerca o a aquellas que pertenecen a organizaciones educativas, religiosas, sociales o comerciales cuya área de responsabilidad o participación abarca el lugar o las personas afectadas por el incidente. Toda la sociedad, representada por funcionarios del gobierno, constituye también una parte interesada secundaria. El daño causado a ambos grupos de partes interesadas secundarias es indirecto e impersonal, sus necesidades son colectivas e inespecíficas, y su mayor respuesta restaurativa es apoyar los procedimientos restaurativos en general.
Todas las partes interesadas primarias necesitan una oportunidad para expresar sus sentimientos y participar en la decisión sobre la manera de reparar el daño. Las víctimas se ven perjudicadas por la pérdida de control que sufren como consecuencia del delito. Necesitan recuperar un sentido de dominio personal. Esta obtención de control personal es lo que transforma a las víctimas en sobrevivientes. Los delincuentes dañan sus relaciones con sus propias comunidades de apoyo traicionando la confianza. Para recobrar esa confianza, necesitan obtener control personal para asumir la responsabilidad por el delito cometido. Sus comunidades de apoyo satisfacen sus necesidades asegurando que se haga algo con respecto al incidente, que se reconozca su carácter erróneo, que se tomen medidas constructivas para evitar que ocurran otros delitos y que las víctimas y los delincuentes se reintegren en sus respectivas comunidades.
Las partes interesadas secundarias, aquellas personas que no se encuentran emocionalmente vinculadas a las víctimas o los delincuentes específicos, no deben despojar del conflicto a aquellos a quienes les pertenece interfiriendo en la oportunidad de subsanación y reconciliación. La respuesta más restaurativa para las partes interesadas secundarias es apoyar y facilitar los procedimientos en los que las partes interesadas primarias deciden por ellas mismas el resultado del caso. Dichos procedimientos reinsertarán a las víctimas y los delincuentes y al mismo tiempo fortalecerán a la sociedad civil mediante la optimización de la cohesión social y la obtención de control personal y mejoramiento de la capacidad de los ciudadanos para resolver sus propios problemas.
Tipología de las prácticas restaurativas
Figura 3. Tipología de las prácticas restaurativas
La justicia restaurativa es un proceso que involucra a las partes interesadas primarias en la decisión sobre la mejor manera de reparar el daño ocasionado por un delito. Las tres partes interesadas primarias en la justicia restaurativa son las víctimas, los delincuentes y sus comunidades de apoyo, cuyas necesidades son, respectivamente, lograr la reparación del daño, asumir la responsabilidad y llegar a un acuerdo. El grado en que las tres partes participan en intercambios emocionales significativos y la toma de decisiones es el grado según el cual toda forma de disciplina social puede ser calificada como completamente “restaurativa.” Estos tres grupos de partes interesadas primarias están representados por tres círculos superpuestos en la Figura 3. El propio proceso de interacción es fundamental para satisfacer las necesidades emocionales de las partes interesadas. El intercambio emocional necesario para satisfacer las necesidades de todas aquellas personas directamente afectadas no puede tener lugar con la participación de un solo grupo de partes interesadas. Los procesos más restaurativos incluyen la participación activa de los tres grupos de partes interesadas primarias.
Cuando las prácticas de la justicia penal incluyen sólo a un grupo de partes interesadas primarias, como en el caso del resarcimiento económico para las víctimas por parte del gobierno, el proceso sólo se puede llamar “parcialmente restaurativo.” Cuando un procedimiento como el de mediación entre víctimas y delincuentes incluye dos partes interesadas principales pero excluye a las comunidades de apoyo, el proceso es “mayormente restaurativo.” El proceso es “completamente restaurativo” sólo cuando los tres grupos de partes interesadas primarias participan activamente, como por ejemplo en reuniones de restauración o círculos.
Los delitos dañan a las personas y las relaciones. La justicia exige que el daño se repare tanto como sea posible. La justicia restaurativa no se aplica porque es merecida, sino porque es necesaria. La justicia restaurativa se logra de manera ideal mediante un proceso cooperativo que involucra a todas las partes interesadas primarias en la decisión sobre la mejor manera de reparar el daño ocasionado por el delito.
La teoría conceptual aquí presentada proporciona el marco para una respuesta global al cómo, qué y quién del paradigma de justicia restaurativa. La Ventana de la disciplina social describe la manera en que el conflicto se puede transformar en colaboración. La estructura de las Funciones de las partes interesadas demuestra que la reparación del daño emocional y relacional requiere la obtención de control personal de las partes interesadas primarias, aquellas personas afectadas de forma más directa. La Tipología de las prácticas restaurativas demuestra el motivo por el cual la participación de las víctimas, los delincuentes y sus comunidades de apoyo es necesaria para reparar el daño causado por el acto delictivo.
Un sistema de justicia penal que solamente imparte castigos a los delincuentes y excluye a las víctimas no encara las necesidades emocionales y relacionales de aquellas personas que se vieron afectadas por el delito. En un mundo donde las personas se sienten cada vez más alienadas, la justicia restaurativa restablece y desarrolla sentimientos y relaciones positivos. Un sistema restaurativo de justicia penal apunta no sólo a reducir la cantidad de delitos, sino también a disminuir el impacto de los mismos. La capacidad de la justicia restaurativa de tratar estas necesidades emocionales y relacionales y de comprometer a los ciudadanos en el proceso es la clave para lograr y mantener una sociedad civil sana.
McCold, P. (1996). Restorative justice and the role of community [La justicia restaurativa y la función de la comunidad]. En B. Galaway & J. Hudson (Eds.) Restorative Justice: International Perspectives (pp. 85-102). Monsey, NY: Criminal Justice Press.
McCold, P. (2000). Toward a mid-range theory of restorative criminal justice: A reply to the Maximalist model [Hacia una teoría de justicia restaurativa penal de alcance intermedio: Una respuesta al modelo Maximalista]. Contemporary Justice Review, 3(4), 357-414.
McCold, P., & Wachtel, T. (2002). Restorative justice theory validation [Validación de la teoría de justicia restaurativa]. En E. Weitekamp and H-J. Kerner (Eds.), Restorative Justice: Theoretical Foundations (pp. 110-142). Devon, UK: Willan Publishing.
Wachtel, T. (1997). Real Justice: How to Revolutionize our Response to Wrongdoing [La justicia verdadera: Cómo cambiar radicalmente nuestra respuesta ante los delitos]. Pipersville, PA: Piper’s Press.
Wachtel. T. (2000). Restorative practices with high-risk youth [Prácticas restaurativas con jóvenes de alto riesgo]. En G. Burford & J. Hudson (Eds.). Family Group Conferencing: New Directions in Community Centered Child & Family Practice (pp. 86-92). Hawthorne, NY: Aldine de Gruyter.
Wachtel, T., & McCold, P. (2000). Restorative justice in everyday life [La justicia restaurativa en la vida diaria]. En J. Braithwaite and H. Strang (Eds.), Restorative Justice in Civil Society (pp. 117-125). New York: Cambridge University Press.
- Written by Paul McCold
Trabalho apresentado no XIII Congresso Mundial de Criminologia,
10-15 Agosto de 2003, Rio de Janeiro.
A justiça restaurativa é uma nova maneira de abordar a justiça penal, que enfoca a reparação dos danos causados às pessoas e relacionamentos, ao invés de punir os transgressores. Tendo se originado nos anos 70 como uma mediação entre vítimas e transgressores, nos anos 90 a justiça restaurativa foi ampliada para incluir comunidades de assistência, com as famílias e amigos das vítimas e transgressores participando de processos colaborativos denominados “conferências” e “círculos”. Este novo enfoque na resolução de conflitos e o conseqüente fortalecimento daqueles afetados por uma transgressão parecem ter o potencial de aumentar a coesão social nas nossas sociedades, cada vez mais distantes umas das outras. A justiça restaurativa e suas práticas emergentes constituem uma nova e promissora área de estudo das ciências sociais.
Nesse trabalho propomos uma teoria conceptual de justiça restaurativa para que os cientistas sociais possam por à prova estes conceitos teóricos e sua validade na explicação e prognóstico das práticas de justiça restaurativa. O postulado fundamental da justiça restaurativa é que o crime causa danos às pessoas e relacionamentos e que a justiça exige que o dano seja reduzido ao mínimo possível. Dessa premissa resultam as seguintes questões chave: Quem foi prejudicado? Quais as suas necessidades? Como atender a essas necessidades?
UMA TEORIA CONCEPTUAL DE JUSTIÇA RESTAURATIVA
A justiça restaurativa é um processo colaborativo que envolve aqueles afetados mais diretamente por um crime, chamados de “partes interessadas principais”, para determinar qual a melhor forma de reparar o dano causado pela transgressão. Mas quem são as principais partes interessadas na justiça restaurativa e como devem se comprometer na busca pela justiça? Nossa proposta teoria de justiça restaurativa é composta de três estruturas conceituais distintas, porém relacionadas: Social Discipline Window - A Janela de Disciplina Social (Wachtel 1997, 2000; Wachtel & McCold 2000), Stakeholder Roles - O Papel das Partes Interessadas (McCold 1996, 2000) e Restorative Practices Typology - A Tipologia das Práticas Restaurativas (McCold 2000; McCold & Wachtel, 2002). Cada uma dessas explica o como, o por quê e o quem da teoria de justiça restaurativa.
A Janela de Disciplina Social
Figura 1. Janela de Disciplina Social
Todos aqueles que têm um cargo de autoridade na sociedade precisam tomar decisões sobre como manter a disciplina social: pais criando filhos, professores em salas de aula, empregadores supervisionando empregados ou profissionais da justiça respondendo a transgressões penais. Até pouco tempo, as sociedades ocidentais vinham utilizando punições, normalmente vistas como a única forma eficiente de disciplinar aqueles que se comportavam mal ou cometiam crimes.
Punição e outras opções estão ilustradas na Janela de Disciplina Social (Figura 1), que é criada pela combinação de dois continuums: “controle”, que limita ou influencia os outros, e “apoio”, cuidando, encorajando ou assistindo outros. Para simplificar, as combinações de cada um desses continuums foram limitadas a “alto” e “baixo”. A delimitação clara de limites e a imposição diligente de padrões de comportamento caracterizam um alto grau de controle social. Padrões vagos ou fracos de comportamento e regulamentos permissivos ou inexistentes caracterizam um baixo controle social. A assistência ativa e preocupação pelo bem-estar coletivo caracterizam o alto apoio social. A falta de encorajamento e uma provisão mínima para necessidades físicas e emocionais caracterizam o baixo apoio social. Combinando um nível alto ou baixo de controle com um nível alto ou baixo de apoio, a Janela de Disciplina Social define quatro abordagens à regulamentação do comportamento: punitiva, permissiva, negligente e restaurativa.
A abordagem punitiva, com alto controle e baixo apoio, também chamada de “retributiva”, tende a estigmatizar as pessoas rotulando-as indelevelmente de forma negativa. A abordagem permissiva, com baixo controle e alto apoio, também chamada “reabilitadora”, tende a proteger as pessoas das conseqüências de suas ações erradas. Baixo controle e baixo apoio são simplesmente negligentes, uma abordagem caracterizada pela indiferença e passividade.
A abordagem restaurativa, com alto controle e alto apoio, confronta e desaprova as transgressões enquanto afirmando o valor intrínseco do transgressor. A essência da justiça restaurativa é a resolução de problemas de forma colaborativa. Práticas restaurativas proporcionam, àqueles que foram prejudicados por um incidente, a oportunidade de reunião para expressar seus sentimentos, descrever como foram afetados e desenvolver um plano para reparar os danos ou evitar que aconteça de novo. A abordagem restaurativa é reintegradora e permite que o transgressor repare danos e não seja mais visto como tal.
Quatro palavras descrevem resumidamente as abordagens: NADA, PELO, AO e COM. Se negligente, NADA faz em resposta a uma transgressão. Se permissiva, tudo faz PELO (por o) transgressor, pedindo pouco em troca e criando desculpas para as transgressões. Se punitiva, as respostas são reações AO transgressor, punindo e reprovando, mas permitindo pouco envolvimento ponderado e ativo do mesmo. Se restaurativa, o transgressor encontra-se envolvido COM o transgressor e outras pessoas prejudicadas, encorajando um envolvimento consciente e ativo do transgressor, convidando outros lesados pela transgressão a participarem diretamente do processo de reparação e prestação de contas. O engajamento cooperativo é elemento essencial da justiça restaurativa.
O Papel das Partes Interessadas
Figura 2. Papéis das Partes Interessadas
A segunda estrutura de nossa teoria de justiça restaurativa, o papel das partes interessadas (Figura 2), relaciona o dano causado pela transgressão às necessidades específicas de cada parte interessada resultantes da mesma, e às respostas restaurativas necessárias ao atendimento destas necessidades. Essa estrutura causal distingue os interesses das partes interessadas principais—aqueles mais afetados pela transgressão—dos afetados indiretamente.
As partes interessadas principais são principalmente constituídas pelas vítimas e os transgressores porque são os mais diretamente afetados. No entanto, aqueles que têm uma relação emocional significativa com uma vítima ou transgressor, como os pais, esposos, irmãos, amigos, professores ou colegas, também são considerados diretamente afetados. Eles constituem as comunidades de assistência a vítimas e transgressores. O dano causado, as necessidades criadas e as atitudes restaurativas das partes interessadas principais são próprias de cada transgressão e precisam de participação ativa da comunidade para alcançar reparação máxima.
As partes interessadas secundárias (indiretas) incluem os vizinhos, aqueles que pertencem a organizações religiosas, educacionais, sociais ou empresas cujas áreas de responsabilidade incluem os lugares ou as pessoas afetadas pela transgressão. A sociedade como um todo, representada pelo governo, também é uma parte interessada secundária. O dano causado às duas partes interessadas secundárias é indireto e impessoal, suas necessidades são coletivas, não específicas, e sua resposta máxima é apoiar os processos restaurativos como um todo.
Todas partes interessadas principais precisam de uma oportunidade para expressar seus sentimentos e ter uma voz ativa no processo de reparação do dano. As vítimas são prejudicadas pela falta de controle que sentem em conseqüência da transgressão. Elas precisam readquirir seu sentimento de poder pessoal. Esse fortalecimento é o que transforma as vítimas em sobreviventes. Os transgressores prejudicam seu relacionamento com suas comunidades de assistência ao trair a confiança das mesmas. Para recriar essa confiança eles devem ser fortalecidos para poderem assumir responsabilidade por suas más ações. Suas comunidades de assistência preenchem suas necessidades garantindo que algo será feito sobre o incidente, que tomarão conhecimento do ato errado, que serão tomadas medidas para coibir novas transgressões e que vítimas e transgressores serão reintegrados às suas comunidades.
As partes interessadas secundárias, que não estão ligadas emocionalmente às vítimas e transgressores, não devem tomar para si o conflito daqueles a quem pertence, interferindo na oportunidade de reconciliação e reparação. A resposta restaurativa máxima para as partes interessadas secundárias deve ser a de apoiar e facilitar os processos em que as próprias partes interessadas principais determinam o que deve ser feito. Estes processos reintegrarão vítimas e transgressores, fortalecendo a comunidade, aumentando a coesão e fortalecendo e ampliando a capacidade dos cidadãos de solucionar seus próprios problemas.
Tipologia das Práticas Restaurativas
Figura 3. Tipologia das Práticas Restaurativas
A justiça restaurativa é um processo que envolve as partes interessadas principais na decisão de como reparar o dano causado por uma transgressão. As três partes interessadas principais na justiça restaurativa são as vítimas, os transgressores e suas comunidades de assistência, cujas necessidades são, respectivamente: obter a reparação, assumir a responsabilidade e conseguir a reconciliação. O grau de envolvimento das três numa troca emocional e decisões significativas determinará o grau em que qualquer forma de disciplina social poderá ser chamada apropriadamente de “restaurativa”. Esses três grupos de partes interessadas principais são representados pelos três círculos da Figura 3. O próprio processo de interação é crítico para preencher as necessidades emocionais das partes interessadas. O compartilhamento de emoções necessário para atingir os objetivos de todos os que foram diretamente afetados não pode ocorrer através de participação unilateral. O mais restaurativo dos processos requer a participação ativa dos três grupos.
Quando as práticas da justiça penal envolvem apenas um dos grupos de partes interessadas principais, como no caso de compensação financeira do governo às vitimas, o processo só pode ser chamado de “parcialmente restaurativo”. Quando a vítima e o transgressor participam de um processo de mediação sem a participação de suas comunidades, esse será “na maior parte restaurativo”. Apenas quando os três grupos participam ativamente, como em conferências ou círculos, pode ser dito que o processo é “totalmente restaurativo”.
Crimes causam danos a pessoas e relacionamentos. A justiça requer que o dano seja reparado ao máximo. A justiça restaurativa não é feita porque é merecida e sim porque é necessária. A justiça restaurativa é conseguida idealmente através de um processo cooperativo que envolve todas as partes interessadas principais na determinação da melhor solução para reparar o dano causado pela transgressão.
A teoria conceptual apresentada possibilita uma resposta abrangente que explica o como, o por quê e o quem do paradigma da justiça restaurativa. A Janela de Disciplina Social explica como o conflito pode se transformar em cooperação. A Estrutura de Papéis das Partes Interessadas Principais mostra que para reparar os danos aos sentimentos e relações requer o fortalecimento das partes interessadas principais, afetadas de forma mais direta. A Tipologia das Praticas Restaurativas explica porque a participação da vítima, do transgressor e das comunidades é necessária à reparação do dano causado pelo ato criminoso.
Um sistema de justiça penal que simplesmente pune os transgressores e desconsidera as vítimas não leva em consideração as necessidades emocionais e sociais daqueles afetados por um crime. Em um mundo onde as pessoas sentem-se cada vez mais alienadas, a justiça restaurativa procura restaurar sentimentos e relacionamentos positivos. O sistema de justiça restaurativa tem como objetivo não apenas reduzir a criminalidade, mas também o impacto dos crimes sobre os cidadãos. A capacidade da justiça restaurativa de preencher essas necessidades emocionais e de relacionamento é o ponto chave para a obtenção e manutenção de uma sociedade civil saudável.
McCold, P. (1996). Restorative justice and the role of community. In B. Galaway & J. Hudson (Eds.), Restorative Justice: International Perspectives (pp. 85-102). Monsey, NY: Criminal Justice Press.
McCold, P. (2000). Toward a mid-range theory of restorative criminal justice: A reply to the Maximalist model. Contemporary Justice Review, 3(4), 357-414.
McCold, P., & Wachtel, T. (2002). Restorative justice theory validation. In E. Weitekamp and H-J. Kerner (Eds.), Restorative Justice: Theoretical Foundations (pp. 110-142). Devon, UK: Willan Publishing.
Wachtel, T. (1997). Real Justice: How to Revolutionize our Response to Wrongdoing. Pipersville, PA: Piper’s Press.
Wachtel. T. (2000). Restorative practices with high-risk youth. In G. Burford & J. Hudson (Eds.). Family Group Conferencing: New Directions in Community Centered Child & Family Practice (pp. 86-92). Hawthorne, NY: Aldine de Gruyter.
Wachtel, T., & McCold, P. (2000). Restorative justice in everyday life. In J. Braithwaite and H. Strang (Eds.), Restorative Justice in Civil Society (pp. 117-125). New York: Cambridge University Press.
- Written by Tim Newell
From a speech by Tim Newell
Tim Newell worked for the Prison Service in England for 37 years. He recently retired after ten years as the governor of Grendon and Spring Hill prisons. As governor, he avoided the often punitive and stigmatizing practices of typical prisons. Instead, he created a therapeutic community environment that incorporated principles of restorative practices. The following is from his plenary speech at the IIRP’s Third International Conference in August 2002. In this speech he discussed his experience building these model prison communities, prison culture and how restorative practitioners can overcome institutional resistance.
My first experience with restorative work was actually as a victim. I was living onsite of a young offender establishment. I had been in the job a couple of years and my bachelor home was burglarized by one of the offenders. We were able to quickly establish who it was. In discussing with Barry why he had done it, he said that he was quite interested in getting into a home setting and was interested particularly in my home. Being a bachelor and being at the start of a job, my home was rather sparse. He was unfortunately not well rewarded by the experience. Most young offender establishments have a culture that puts quite an emphasis on personal cleanliness and tidiness. One of the interesting things in the dialogue with Barry was some fairly strong advice he gave me on how to tidy my place up.
I celebrate the work that is taking place at present within prisons. They are demanding places to work in and are very challenging environments in which to introduce some of the ideas we’ve been hearing about at this conference. Over the years, one of the questions I would regularly be asked was, “Why aren’t there more Grendons?” It really is a unique environment where the culture is very different from other prisons. The predominance of fear that dominates most prison settings was by-and-large removed over a period of time through the involvement of and the trust that developed between some very heavy offenders. Half of the 250 prisoners are life sentence prisoners, murderers, rapists and serious offenders. How is it that this culture is not spread to other prisons?
Sadly, prisons are often lacking in hope for the future. If I were a prisoner, I would not be too optimistic about my chances, given the reconviction rates we are dealing with. For young offenders in England, we’re looking at a return to court at 85 to 90 percent within two years of being released. For adults, we are looking at 55 to 60 percent returning to court and a conviction within two years of release. It’s currently something like £35,000 in England to keep someone in for a year. It’s extremely expensive. We now have over 72,000 people, which goes up every week and every month.
Given that the values of restorative work are in conflict with the experience of imprisonment, why do we work in prisons? Why am I asking that we try to focus our work much more in that area? I’m hoping to make a plea to you all to think about your own practice and how that can be applied within a prison setting. I suppose it is because this is where the need is and where the need is the greatest.
The picture that is often presented to me is that it is hard working in prisons. There are the restorative champions who have a lot of information and a lot of skills that they are bringing with them. They work hard to try to move people and ideas. There are often many observers just watching to see what will happen and quite often it feels as though there are a lot of people who are obstructing. This resistance is not personal. It is a dynamic. It’s a dynamic that comes from within the organization. We’ll look at ways in which, perhaps, it is possible to get through some of this obstruction.
I will try to answer a question that was put to me recently. I was at a conference looking at the work of the Thames Valley Police. The assistant chief constable was sitting next to me and handed me a card which read, “Why is it so hard to move the mainstream of the criminal justice system from doing things we know don’t work to doing things we know do?” I expect that’s a question many of us have been asked over the years. He asked me to email him an answer. I’m still working on it. I started doing something about it.
Let’s look at prison culture and values. Obviously, the security role is predominant within most prison cultures. Also, there is a strong subculture of prisoner secrecy and distance from staff. In order to survive, there is secrecy and subculture development. The prison culture is dominated by risk avoidance because sometimes the risks are considered to be far too high. The political pressure is on to try to avoid taking too many risks and avoid making too many mistakes. There is a very hierarchical structure within the prison setting.
In contrast, Grendon had a very clear prime objective. Therapy was its purpose. Men came there to seek to understand themselves and resolve aspects of their past behavior in exploring their current behavior. The treatment ethic was dominant. Everybody was involved in it, including prison officers, people who worked in the administrative departments and myself as governor. I was accountable. I’ve had several interesting sessions in which I was called down to community meetings to explain decisions that I’ve made and give an account as to why things happened in a certain way. The considerable social distance between staff and prisoners was very greatly reduced in order to actually carry out this work.
People were seen very much as equals within the setting. All staff and all prisoners were regarded as therapists. In a therapeutic community, that’s the role everybody takes on. You don’t have experts. You don’t have individual work. You work very much as a community. Whenever there was an issue or a problem, the mantra was, “Take it to your group.” You don’t resolve it in private. You resolve it in public. The ethos of the management was to actually manage risk because the treatment was dependent upon allowing people to make mistakes and establish wider boundaries for their own behavior.
The staff structure was extremely flat. We tried to ensure that as many decisions as possible were made within the communities where the staff was working directly with prisoners. So there were very few decision-making committees within the establishment. One of the key things was that the process was important. Everything that was done was done within an inclusive process so everybody was involved. There was an openness about decisions even when pretty horrible decisions had to be made, such as people being moved on or programs being shut down for lack of finance.
Within that environment, Grendon was able to work. This is in contrast to other prisons. We were able to maintain the work because it was effective. We certainly had the lowest escape rate in England. We had the lowest assault rate of all prisons. Also, we had the highest involvement of prisoners in programs: 100 percent in Grendon. The staff were committed to the regime and practice, so there were no industrial relations issues at all in that environment. All prisoners looked after each other in terms of suicide prevention, so we were able to survive that as well. There was a long waiting list of prisoners wanting to come to the place. We had twice as many people on our waiting list as places in the prison. The reputation spread amongst prisoners that this was the place where they could actually achieve some understanding of themselves and perhaps some capacity to move on and not cause further damage.
Obviously, victims of those people who are in prison are often those most seriously affected by crime. The offenders have been the most damaging people. From my experience working with some of the most damaging people, they are also the most damaged people. Part of what needs to happen in prison is that personal experience of damage should be explored within that setting. I suppose it’s the one advantage of a prison setting. You have people, you are containing them and you can offer them choices and chances. You can do some work with them within a boundary. That’s one of the real advantages.
The communities of those people who are in prison are often the most relieved that the person is now behind the wall. But they are often the most anxious about what’s going to happen when this person returns and how that person is likely to behave. The context in which the offense occurred and the effects of the offense are very rarely considered within the prison setting. Before I retired, I was fortunate to have a short period doing some work in three other prisons. We worked with a group of staff within those prisons to look at the functions with which you could use restorative processes. In Winchester, Bristol and Norwich prisons we are working with the whole approach towards sentence management and sentence planning. So when the person first comes in, they are asked to think about the context of their offense, the effects of it on others and to look at what they can do during their sentence to do something about that.
We are working with the anti-bullying policy and the race relations policy. We are working with the adjudications or infractions policy. Instead of going through a formal adjudication process where the warden is the judge and jury and gives the sentence, we suspend all of that and have a circle to determine what should happen as a result of an assault or other anti-social behavior within a prison context. Those are some of the things that are happening within those three prisons now.
There is a major project taking place in England and Wales at present, in the Thames Valley. It is a big research project based in a metropolitan area. It involves about five big prisons, particularly in the Thames Valley, which includes a prison named Bullingdon. There are formal conferences taking place with serious, violent adult offenders. The Home Office has funded it.
There was some concern that the work within Bullingdon prison was taking place without any incentive at all. Prisoners do not get parole or shorter sentences, just offered the opportunity [to participate in a conference]. Out of the 150 or so who fell into this category, about 130 have taken up the offer of doing it. They have now had over 50 conferences in the prison within the last nine months or so, which is really a roller coaster approach, I’m afraid. It’s going very fast. There has been a lot of staff trained to do it, including prison guards facilitating conferences. The effect upon the culture at Bullingdon is something we are looking forward to examining.
In a place called Brinsford, a young offender establishment, there is some very imaginative mediation work taking place between victims in the community and young offenders within the establishment. This includes face-to-face meetings, but more often includes reports, letters or videotapes that are sent in order to try and help both parties understand what happened.
The other aspect is the application of restorative principles to the whole prison. I suppose a place like Grendon would be seen as a totally different cultural approach where the whole prison is accountable and tries to work to a different set of values. We established a core team of prison officers and other staff, a multidisciplinary team. We did some awareness training for all prison staff. We did an audit of all the processes, which produced an action plan that we then prioritized. We have some allies now on the restorative side who are pushing a bit. The obstructers are getting a bit weaker and the observers are jumping off the fence. Since last year, another prison has opened with the same principles. It is called Dovegate. There are other people doing this sort of work, individually motivated, who have to carve out space, protocols and safety to carry out their practice. They have an uphill struggle every time they seek to make this sort of intervention.
The big challenge that is coming up is how do we seek to use this approach with the Headquarters and how do we try to help politicians and mandarins to work in a restorative way. There are some openings coming up. The Home Office is very concerned and is trying to reduce victim dissatisfaction. There are no strategies yet as to how that is going to be done, but one of the key things already coming out of the research from Bullingdon and the Thames Valley is how strongly victims feel committed to the process and how much they have gained from it.
Why is it so hard? The resistance is not a personal thing. I think it’s an organizational thing, it’s a dynamic thing and it’s a cultural thing. Because of the very unusual nature of the work, prisons have evolved a culture, a paradigm and a mindset that determines the way they do the things they have to do. This is a brief look at a model that is more fully described in my paper “Restorative Practice in Prisons: Circles and Conferencing in the Custodial Setting.” (To read this paper go to: www.iirp.edu/article_detail.php?article_id=NDQ1.)
What I would suggest is that we look at using the model to think about the six factors that focus on the paradigm in any organization you’re working in [see below]. I don’t think it just relates to prisons. I think every organization has this cultural web and the structure that supports it. Most consultants go for the easy ones—control systems, power structures and organizational structures—because they are more readily accessible. The important thing for us, I think, is to focus on the subconscious areas: the stories, symbols and rituals. Through that, one can assess the nature of the paradigm and look to develop our own stories, of which we have a massive amount. Our stories, our symbols and our rituals can help the organization meet its needs.
Obviously, stories are vitally important in any culture. What we say to each other and others about how we celebrate or denigrate what happens can determine how we feel about the place. The symbols we have, such as name badges, are important. The simple things that we use within prison settings. The symbolic use of names is vitally important. The director general saw that in private prisons in England, staff refers to prisoners as Mr., Miss or Mrs. So-and-so. Whereas in the public sector prisons, they are always referred to purely by their second or surname. He asked us all to think about how we could change that. The resistance to that has been tremendous and so deeply emotional that it obviously represents a serious symbol that will be difficult to shift.
Rituals and routines are vitally important as well within the subconscious of the culture. What rites of passage are there within the organization: rites of celebration, rites of degradation, rites of challenge and rites of counterchallenge? Paradigms are in the middle of this, which is what is being protected.
I hope I’ve provided some ideas on how we can get through this resistance and how we can work to change the current state of prisons and our dependency upon them. What I would like to close with is to ask that you consider within your own practice the possibility of moving some of that into a prison setting: either to help people towards their release or to involve yourself during their time in the prison. I see this as the most serious arena for our work. It’s life and death matters that we are considering within prisons.
I would like to end with some silence. But before the silence I would like to quote something that epitomizes how serious the need for restorative practice is in our society. This is from an English novelist, Ian McEwan, who wrote in The Guardian on the 13th of September last year .
“If the hijackers had been able to imagine themselves into the thoughts and feelings of the passengers, they would have been unable to proceed. It is hard to be cruel once you permit yourself to enter the mind of your victim. Imagining what it is like to be someone other than yourself is at the core of our humanity. It is the essence of compassion and it is the beginning of morality.”
Excerpted from “Restorative Practice in Prisons: Circles and Conferencing in the Custodial Setting” by Tim Newell.
In considering the application of restorative ideas in prisons, we could use the model of the cultural web. Through this we could audit the way in which changes are already taking place in some prisons and how more could be achieved through this methodical approach towards cultural change. Restorative practitioners are beginning to work more in prisons and this effort could be considered through the model of the cultural web so that the work is effective within the context of the project but also in affecting the wider prison community.
The way that some of this work has been approached has influenced the functional areas of work described below. This work has been achieved by prison staff being dissatisfied with traditional ways of operating and realising that through restorative practice a more satisfactory process could be developed with more just outcomes.
Through audit and developing practice it is possible to see there are opportunities in the following areas of functional activity in prisons:
Induction programmes for prisoners. Establishing norms through staff and peer tuition and example, through setting standards and developing expectations of taking responsibility during the sentence can be very effective at the start of the sentence when prisoners are often at their most sensitive and receptive.
Complaints and requests systems. The requests and complaints of prisoners can be considered through an open process of mediation and direct communication in order to establish what happened, who was affected, in what way and what should be done to put things right. This can be in contrast to some current practice that is often secretive in process and unsatisfactory in outcome for all parties.
Adjudications. Disciplinary hearings form a critical focus of many prison systems. How infractions of the rules are considered by the prison sets the tone of staff attitudes and prisoner compliance in many prisons. To offer an alternative process of a circle is a dramatic way to express the concept of staff and prisoners working together to resolve conflicts rather than reacting to them stereotypically. This process can be seen to gain a win-win setting, rather than the inevitable win-lose one of blame and scapegoating. (Continued on next page.)
Race relations. Similar handling of equal opportunity issues through open ways of mutual respect can establish for staff and prisoners that such matters are taken seriously. Their concerns will be handled fairly and openly whenever possible, recognising the perceived victim’s feelings and willingness for such a process.
Anti-violence strategy. The same considerations apply as for the anti-bullying strategy. The strategy to be developed could well include training for staff and prisoners in conflict-resolution awareness and skills, perhaps through a programme like the AVP (Alternatives to Violence Project). The establishing of peer mediators, as with the ‘listeners’ programme for suicide prevention and the peer education-tutoring scheme, will play to the strengths of many prisoners in managing difficult settings and in being able to support each other.
Preparation for release. When sentence planning is done in partnership with prisoners many restorative justice possibilities arise for accepting responsibility for the crime, establishing some accountability for the future to victims, primary and secondary, and a commitment to the community to which prisoners will return. The resources of the prison—work, education, leisure, offending behaviour courses and other programmes—can be channeled to this effect. Victim empathy and accountability for criminal behaviour are expressed in these programmes in which prisoners take responsibility for their behaviour. This is the ideal setting for voluntary compliance, honesty and contrition to be expressed.
Resettlement. Preparation for resettlement should start early in the sentence and should engage the agencies that are likely to be affected by the prisoner’s release, such as housing, health and employment, as well as the criminal justice agencies of police and probation. On home leave or temporary release from prison, offer the possibility of a conferencing of agencies, including justice ones, with the prison providing some feedback about the course of the sentence and about future expectations. Family and victims could be involved in this process that is focused on the issues of returning to the community.
Circles on release. Once released, the prisoner often experiences difficulties in sustaining the plans and the intentions when in custody. There is sometimes a need to provide some community support and involvement through a formal Circle of Support and Accountability.
Prison Outreach. Staff and prisoners can serve the community by educating groups about the effect of imprisonment through the sharing of information about prisons and about the life stories of offenders.
Staffing processes. In order to integrate restorative justice practices, principles and processes into the prison’s life it is important that prison staff feel that they are treated with the same respect and consideration. Thus, dispute and conflict resolution procedures should be developed offering mediation and conferencing for staff with trained facilitators. The personnel management of staff should operate with the same principles of concern for the individual and the respect for their personal development within the professional setting.
- Written by Laura Mirsky
Twelve-year-old Tiffany (not her real name) rushes into the student office at Palisades Middle School, in southeastern Pennsylvania, USA. “Hi Tiffany,” says the office secretary, Karen Urbanowicz, “What are you doing here?” Tiffany says that she was getting in trouble in class. Mrs. Urbanowicz asks Tiffany what happened and Tiffany tells her story. “Did your teacher send you here?” asks Mrs. Urbanowicz. “No,” says Tiffany, “I sent myself.” “Good for you!” says Mrs. Urbanowicz. She takes Tiffany’s personal journal out of a file and hands it to her, saying, “Write about what happened and what you think you can do better in the future.” Tiffany sits down and begins to write.
The name they gave to these strategies is “restorative practices.” Restorative practices involve changing relationships by engaging people: doing things WITH them, rather than TO them or FOR them—providing both high control and high support at the same time. Said Ted Wachtel, “In our schools, we provide a huge amount of support. We’re very understanding and find all sorts of ways to help kids understand their behavior, but at the same time we don’t tolerate inappropriate behavior. We really hold them accountable.”
Instead of zero tolerance and authoritarian punishment, restorative practices place responsibility on students themselves, using a collaborative response to wrongdoing. Students are encouraged to both give and ask for support and are responsible for helping to address behavior in other students. This fosters a strong sense of community as well as a strong sense of safety. “Restorative practices are not new ‘tools for your toolbox,’ but represent a fundamental change in the nature of relationships in schools. It is the relationships, not specific strategies, that bring about meaningful change,” said Bob Costello, IIRP director of training.
Eventually, the IIRP began to articulate these practices and find ways to teach them to others. They also found that the processes applied to many settings, not just with troubled kids. Since restorative practices worked so well with the toughest kids in their own schools, the IIRP thought they ought to be able to work in other schools, as well.
Through a SaferSanerSchools™ pilot program, restorative practices have been introduced to Palisades High School (732 students), Palisades Middle School (559 students) and Springfield Township High School (855 students). The program is in various phases of implementation at the three schools. All have implemented restorative practices in creative ways.
A visitor walking the hallways at any of these schools feels immediately welcomed into a lively and cheerful community. Ask any student for directions and he or she provides them in a spirit of open friendliness. Staff members seem just as congenial. An observer in classrooms and at special events perceives that students have a strong connection to their school, the staff and each other.
Palisades High School was the first SaferSanerSchools™ pilot school. Asked how restorative practices have changed the school, Principal David Piperato said that before the program was introduced, as in many public schools throughout the US, the level of caring and respect among many students had declined. Restorative practices, he said, “created a more positive relationship between staff and students.” Preliminary data gathered by the school indicate a clear decrease in disciplinary referrals to the student office (Figure 1), administrative detentions (Figure 2), detentions assigned by teachers (Figure 3), incidents of disruptive behavior (Figure 4) and out-of-school suspensions (Figure 5) from school year 1998-1999 through 2001-2002, the years of the pilot project.
Palisades High School Disciplinary Data
Restorative practices also helped establish a culture of collaboration among staff members. Said teacher Heather Horn, “The traditional mindset of, ‘If you’re doing something wrong it’s not my job to confront you.’ has become: ‘This is a team thing and your behavior is affecting me as a teacher.’” The administrator-teacher relationship is now collaborative rather than just supervisory, said Piperato: “the right style for a high school.” Restorative practices have also had a positive effect on academic performance, he said, adding, “You cannot separate behavior from academics. When students feel good and safe and have solid relationships with teachers, their academic performance improves.”
Restorative practices were introduced at Palisades High School in the 1998-1999 school year. In the fall, the school had launched a new program, the Academy, for students who didn’t feel connected to school and were struggling with behavior or academic performance. The Academy is project-based. Kids work with clients outside school to design websites, produce videos and build construction projects. But, said Piperato, “We made a critical error: we addressed the content of the program, not relationships between teachers and students. And from the first day, the program was as close to a disaster as you can imagine.” Rebelling against the lack of structure, unmotivated kids roamed the building, their behavior rude and belligerent. Teachers turned on each other, frustrated and upset.
At that time, the IIRP presented their idea of implementing restorative practices in schools to Joseph Roy, then Palisades High School principal, and Piperato, then assistant principal. Roy and Piperato realized that they could use the IIRP’s assistance with the Academy immediately. Said Piperato, “This was an opportunity for them to test their theory in our most difficult setting.”
Piperato said he knew that he and Roy needed to be intimately involved with the experiment from the beginning—supportive and willing to take risks. “The IIRP staff spent hours listening to us, gave us strategies for dealing with the kids and held us accountable for using them,” he said. They started to see some success with the way the teachers were feeling almost immediately. The biggest step, said Costello, was when the teachers recognized that they had to take care of themselves as a team before they could help the kids. “They needed to respect their style differences, be honest, practice what they preached and work on their issues: do all the things they were asking the kids to do.”
The IIRP taught the Academy staff to use the continuum of restorative practices, starting with affective statements and questions—sharing and eliciting emotions—to help students understand that they were as responsible for the success of the Academy, as well as to and for each other, as the teachers were, said Piperato. The teachers also learned how to use circles, interventions, one-on-ones and group meetings with kids. They introduced “check-in” and “check-out” circles at the beginning and end of each 90-minute class period—an opportunity for students to set goals and expectations together.
The strategies quickly started to show results with students. “Restorative practices helped us help students see that they need to buy into the community that we’re building,” said Academy teacher Eileen Wickard. Comments from Academy students indicate a strong sense of community: “We’re a big family. We’re all so different but we all work together.” “If two people are arguing, a group of us will get together and talk to the people and try to work it through. As a group we’ve managed to make ourselves more mature.”
Word soon spread throughout the school that the Academy had been successful with students no one had been able to reach before. Academy kids were also receiving positive recognition from the community. Teachers in the rest of the school consequently became more willing to listen to the “wacky touchy-feely stuff going on in the Academy,” said Piperato. Roy and Piperato decided to phase in restorative practices in the rest of the building over a three-year period. They divided the staff into thirds: the “believers,” the “fence sitters” and the “critics.” The first year, the IIRP provided basic knowledge of restorative practices for the believers, teaching them to be a support group for each other. “That was phenomenal for us,” said Horn. Teachers used to complain to each other about kids and judge them, she said. But the IIRP taught teachers how to discuss students’ behavior, rather than their personalities, and brainstorm as a group about how to handle it. “Before, it was almost a taboo,” said Academy teacher John Venner. “You never talked to another teacher about how they talked to kids. It was their own damn business in their own classroom. Now we find it very acceptable to hold each other accountable.”
By the second year, said Piperato, the fence sitters had begun to notice the positive effects of restorative practices. The believers and the fence sitters were combined into two mixed groups, and the IIRP trained them together. The believers modeled, provided support and told stories about their experiences with restorative practices and the fence sitters learned from them. By the third year, teachers who needed evidence that the program worked were seeing it. Those who had been resistant were less so and many teachers retired. Newly hired teachers were trained with the third group. All teachers were encouraged to use restorative practices in the classroom.
English teacher Mandy Miller said that she uses restorative practices, including circles, to build relationships between students. She told a story of a girl who felt that other students were getting in the way of her learning and asked for a circle meeting to address the issue. During the circle, the girl realized that she was actually causing most of the problem herself. “That was a really hard day and people were in tears,” said Miller, but since then, the entire class has been getting along fine. Miller has also found restorative practices helpful with discipline problems. “I can say, ‘This is how I’m feeling. How are you feeling? And what are we going to do to work together?’” Students seem to value and understand the processes. A ninth-grade girl commented, “We do fun team-building activities in biology class to learn how to work with people you’re normally not used to working with.”
Assistant Principal Richard Heffernan said that in 2001-2002 they saw an increase in “harassing types of behavior,” not high level incidents, but those that were creating problems nonetheless. Said Heffernan, “We asked the IIRP staff, ‘Why do you think this is happening? We’re supposed to have restorative practices, express our feelings, treat people with respect and be responsible for our actions.’ They said the reason we’d seen this increase was that students were reporting it more, because we had created a safe environment.” The culture of the students as a whole had changed. It had become acceptable to “tell” when another student was making them feel unsafe. Added guidance counselor Monica Losinno, “Kids feel safe reporting it because they believe it will be addressed.”
Heffernan and Losinno devised a program whereby a staff member is available every period of the school day to facilitate conflict resolution in a restorative manner. Eight teachers and teaching assistants received IIRP group facilitator training. When a problem arises, one of the eight talks with each of the students involved, then brings them together to help them work it through. Teacher and “conflict resolution manager” Richard Kressly said that the entire school staff was educated in restorative practices and asked to be more present in the hallways and more diligent about low level incidents. The program does not relieve teachers from handling disruptive situations in class, said Heffernan.
Kids seem to appreciate the ways in which restorative practices have created a congenial climate in their school. Said a ninth-grade boy, “If kids get in a fight they have someone to help them work it out.” A ninth-grade girl added, “We don’t get many fights. I think there’s only been two all year. That’s not many at all for a high school. Most people get along real well.” A 10th-grade girl who had transferred from another school said of Palisades High School, “One thing I noticed right way was the friendly atmosphere.”
Restorative practices came to Palisades Middle School (PALMS) in the fall of 2000. Said Palisades Middle School Principal Edward Baumgartner, “When I took over here two-and-a-half years ago, we were suspending 200 students a school year for everything from disrespect to not making up gym.” The school climate was discourteous and disrespectful and altercations were common, he said, adding, “The behavior was the result of treatment, perceived or actual, in many cases. You’ve got to give respect to get it.” Then, said Baumgartner, “I sat on the stage for graduation at Palisades High School in June of 2000 and saw a phenomenon that I didn’t understand: kids that had routinely been behavior problems at the middle school were hugging the assistant principal and thanking her.” Baumgartner learned that the high school had implemented the SaferSanerSchools program and decided to follow suit at PALMS.
“Two-and-a-half years later,” he said, “everybody in this building’s been trained, including all the support staff. It’s changed the way we teach kids; it’s changed the way we think about discipline and behavior management. We get along here, and that’s because the kids are respected and they know it.” And, said Baumgartner, “We’ve seen a statistically significant decrease in the amount of actual problems that occur each and every day.” Data gathered by PALMS indicate a substantial drop from school year 2000-2001 to 2001-2002 in discipline referrals to the student office (Figure 6), discipline referrals by source: teacher, cafeteria and bus company (Figure 7) and in incidents of fighting (Figure 8).
In addition, there has been a significant increase in students reporting other students for behavior problems, students self-reporting and parents reporting their children. Kids feel comfortable saying, “I’ve got a problem; I need help,” said Baumgartner. Also, he said, “The school cafeteria is a place where I’m real proud of the kids, a place that I would invite board members to come in and sit down every day.”
Palisades Middle School Disciplinary Data
“I’ve had an epiphany, a metamorphosis,” said Baumgartner. “I used to be one of these black and white, law and order guys. Kids had to be held accountable and the only way to do that was to kick them out of school—to show the other kids that you’re the boss. That doesn’t work,” he said. “I didn’t solve problems; I just postponed them until they got to high school and then somebody else had to deal with them. Restorative practices work. We now fix and solve problems.”
Asked if restorative practices have had a positive effect on academic performance, Baumgartner said, “Kids can’t learn in a dysfunctional environment. If the teacher is spending valuable instructional time addressing a student who’s acting out, that detracts from the instruction. If teachers can be more focused on instruction, the answer to your question has to be yes. We’ve gone down 400 classroom referrals, so I know that the answer is yes.”
Palisades Middle School Dean of Students Dennis Gluck is also the intervention specialist—someone to facilitate restorative circles and model restorative practices for others. Gluck helped the IIRP implement restorative practices at PALMS. First, he said, the school identified six or seven kids who were really struggling and set up a restorative classroom with them. “It was really successful,” said Gluck. “It showed the rest of the staff that this could work with the toughest kids in the school. The kids not only did well, but were able to help other kids.” The whole staff then got excited about the possibilities of restorative practices, he said.
Restorative practices are used in classrooms in the form of circles, when kids and staff share information and problems. In discipline situations, kids can write in their personal journals, kept in the student office, about what happened and suggest how to take care of it. “Through that we process what would be appropriate, from an informal plan to a formal plan to a restorative conference,” said Gluck.
Gluck said that they put a lot of thought into the processes that they developed. “We created a cafeteria committee to deal with problems, we had kids help other kids when they were in jams, and at the end of the year, some of the kids that had struggled the most went on the P.A. (public address) system saying that they loved the administrators.”
Staff members appear enthusiastic about restorative practices. Veteran PALMS educational assistant Karen Bedics said that she has seen a big change in the students due to the approach. “Students at this age are very self-centered. They need a constant reminder that other people are affected by what they do. If we have a conflict, we will meet as group and tell what part each of us, including the teachers, played in it. I’m not afraid to tell them my feelings and I always keep their feelings in mind,” she said. Also, said Bedics, kids now “reprimand each other if they mess up. It means more to them to hear it from their peers.” Fran Ostrosky, long-time PALMS teacher and president of the Palisades Education Association (the teachers’ union), said, “I’ve gotten more out of my students with this approach than I did with a more rigid approach to discipline problems. When you solve problems with them rather than coming down from ‘on high’ they buy into it much better.” Disciplinary aid Gretchen Carr said that restorative practices have “made a tremendous impact on these kids, in their behavior, in their respect for one another and the adults. It also helps that everybody in this district has adapted to it and is practicing the same thing,” said Carr. “It’s not going away and the kids realize that.”
Kids seem to welcome the approach. “I used to get in a lot of trouble, but teachers talk to students and help you make the right decisions here. In homeroom we sit in a circle and talk about anything that needs to be brought up,” said an eighth-grade girl. Said a seventh-grade boy, “When I disrespected a teacher and I apologized to her, it felt good. If they feel bad it’ll make you feel bad too.” An eighth-grade girl said, “The school has gotten to be a really nice community and people really treat each other fairly now.”
District administrators are thoroughly supportive of SaferSanerSchools. “Restorative practices work,” said Palisades School District Superintendent Francis Barnes. “It requires a certain level of self-discipline from all of our staff and they have accepted that challenge and the students have responded very well.” Said Assistant Superintendent Marilyn Miller, “Consistently what we hear from people who visit the schools from the outside is that our students are confident, happy and articulate. That was not the case in 1998.”
After helping to implement restorative practices at Palisades High School, Joseph Roy became principal of Springfield Township High School in January of 2000. His strategy for introducing restorative practices at Springfield has been to “start with a small group and then do another small group and start to expand critical mass.” He picked a few teachers he thought would be interested in restorative practices training, then a few more. “We’re still at the beginning of the process here,” said Roy.
Specific groups have been trained, including those working with poorly motivated, at-risk students in the Spartan Project, an American studies class that combines English and social studies, as well as teams of eighth- and ninth-grade teachers. Roy finds that the teaming concept is consistent with restorative practices. The entire faculty was introduced to restorative practices in the fall of 2001. “The goal,” said Roy, “is to integrate the practices throughout the school. Our challenge here is changing the traditional school culture to become more restorative.” Roy considers restorative practices to be “one piece of many things we do for culture-building,” including treating kids with respect and having a team of teachers and parents identify the school’s core values. “I guess you could tie it all in to restorative practices,” he concluded.
The demographics at Springfield are different from those at Palisades, said Roy. “We’re the first ring of suburbs around Philadelphia,” he said, “so we have a lot of transfer-ins from families moving to the suburbs for the better schools. These kids are much more city street smart than suburban kids. That’s part of the challenge—to take kids that are coming from a different system and have them be integrated into the culture of this school and not have the culture of this school shift toward the behavior of the Philadelphia schools.” Roy said that restorative practices had definitely helped with that concern. “Usually kids will catch onto ‘OK, this is how we behave at this school, this is what the expectations are and this is the culture’ and they get on board,” he said.
The number of discipline referrals is down dramatically already since he came to Springfield, Roy said. Data gathered by the school indicates decreases in incidents of inappropriate behavior (Figure 9), disrespect to teachers (Figure 10) and classroom disruption (Figure 11). Added Roy, “They’re lower-level stuff: Johnny didn’t come back to study hall after he went to the library—stuff like that.” In the past, said Roy, there were many more incidents of disrespect and defiance.
Springfield Township High School
Said Roy, “When I first got here there was something called ‘time out.’ Teachers would kick kids out of class and send them to a ‘time out room.’ Sometimes they’d get there, sometimes they wouldn’t. If they got there they just hung out. There was no follow-up. We put an end to that. Now, not nearly as many kids get kicked out of class, and if they do they come to our in-school suspension room and teachers are required to follow-up and to contact the parents.”
Now, instead of just “hanging out,” said Assistant Principal Michael Kell, during in-school suspensions, a student is given a list of seven questions to think about along the lines of those asked in a restorative conference, i.e., What happened? Who do you think has been affected by your actions? What can you do to repair the harm? Kell discusses the questions with the student, sometimes bringing in the teacher involved, as well. He asks both to talk about how they feel and helps them mend their relationship.
Kell is an enthusiastic proponent of restorative practices. “Usually the assistant principal—the chief disciplinarian—sets the tone for the building, and in that tone we’ve tried to create a restorative culture here,” he said. He also works with teachers to help them be more restorative and trust the practices instead of simply blaming kids for problems. “One teacher thought we were lowering his authority in the classroom by using circles,” said Kell. “I told him, ‘I felt bad that you felt that I wasn’t supporting you. You have the ability as a teacher to say how you’re going to change things. Think of it as an investment. You’re going to get dividends in the future.’”
Kell facilitates formal restorative conferences when serious problems arise. One conference brought a school custodian together with students who had been disrespectful to him. The custodian told the kids how they had hurt him and that he felt great pride in his work. The kids apologized to him and had new respect for him after the conference. Guidance counselor Kevin McGeehan also facilitates restorative conferences. He ran a conference after members of an athletic team scratched their names into some new lockers during a school renovation. Chuck Inman, facilities director, who participated in the conference, was very impressed with the process, saying, “The kids got to realize that their actions had affected more people than they thought”—their teammates, the construction workers and the taxpayers. The incident represented $900 worth of damage—a tiny fraction of the $27,000,000 school renovation, but “it was the principle that was important,” said Inman. As a consequence of their actions, the kids had to pay to replace the locker doors.
McGeehan also uses a restorative approach in everyday interaction with kids. “When I see a kid acting up in the hallway, instead of immediately dragging him into the discipline office, I’ll pull him over, one-on-one, and try to find out exactly what’s happening and to understand where he’s coming from,” he said. “A lot of times it’s not the specific incident that’s caused the conflict, but rather something that’s happened earlier in the day or at home or in a previous class. Allowing that venting process alone tends to diffuse it, along with the feeling that an adult is listening and understanding.” Said Roy, “When you get to the point where it’s informal but constant, that’s where you want to be.”
Roy encourages teachers to use the check-in and check-out model with both classroom management and academic issues to “create the culture that says, ‘We talk about stuff as a group and we help each other out.’” Eighth-grade teacher Michele Mazurek uses check-ins on Mondays and check-outs on Fridays “to get a sense of community within the classroom.” Just doing it twice a week has cut down on the number of incidents of teasing because students have heard each other relate some of their goals and aspirations, she said. A 12th-grade girl said that check-ins were “a way for people to open up and share what’s important to them, then somebody else might relate to it. So people can relate to each other in ways they might not have.”
Social studies teacher Dave Gerber was skeptical about the restorative practices training at first but is now an enthusiastic proponent of the approach. “My students know that I treat them with genuine respect and I think that’s where restorative practices begins and what really helps it take shape in the classroom,” he said. A senior girl agreed, saying, “The teachers respect us and we respect them back. They talk with us instead of at us.” Gerber said that it’s possible to use restorative practices regardless of class level or content. In response to teachers who say they don’t have time to implement the approach, he said, “You don’t have to spend 40 minutes doing a circle. You can spend five minutes and it is effective. You’ll be able to go back next class and make up for that five minutes of content you didn’t get in. If you have people arguing in the classroom all the time, what kind of learning is taking place?”
Students at Springfield Township High School seem to appreciate their school’s climate. A 12th-grade girl said, “Everybody accepts everybody for who they are. Our teachers are awesome. I try and do my best just so I can be like: I’m from Springfield, this is what they’ve taught me; this is what I’m doing; I’m going places in life. I have that feeling. I think the majority of our school does, too.”
Administrators and teachers at the three pilot schools believe that more needs to be done to continue to implement restorative practices in their buildings, but all feel that they have a solid foundation on which to build. Palisades High School teacher Heather Horn talked about the difficulties at the beginning of school year 2002-2003, due to contractual problems and a threatened teachers’ strike (which never materialized) as well as a building torn apart by construction. Despite the turmoil, said Horn, there was a willingness to work toward repairing the climate among the entire staff, adding, “The effects of restorative behavior were clearer last fall than ever before.”
Staff members at Palisades High School, Palisades Middle School and Springfield Township High School know that their education in restorative practices will be ongoing. To cite one example, Joseph Roy said that Bob Costello, IIRP director of training, scheduled to help Springfield implement a restorative practices-based program for the eighth grade. Time will be set aside for kids and teachers to break into small groups that will focus on goal-setting, community-building and academic issues. As Palisades High School Principal David Piperato said, “Learning to be restorative is a lifelong process.”
- Written by Laura Mirsky
This is the third and final part in a series about family group conferencing (FGC), a restorative process that empowers families to make decisions, usually made for them by outside officials, concerning the care and support of their children and other family members. FGC began in New Zealand and has spread throughout the world. The key features of the New Zealand FGC model, where it is built into child welfare law, are preparation, information giving, private family time, agreeing on the plan and monitoring and review. In North America there is a growing use of the term Family Group Decision Making (FGDM). Part one of this series mainly emphasized FGC in child welfare and contained a brief explanation and history of FGC. In addition to other child welfare FGC programs, parts two and three address FGCs in adult mental health, youth justice and school applications, as well as FGC theory and philosophy.
Northern Ireland, specifically Tyrone and Armagh counties, is the site of a unique project in that it encompasses both child welfare family group conferences (FGC) and restorative school group conferences. The latter is using conferences in schools based on the Real Justice model (an IIRP program: www.realjustice.org). Both the FGC and school conferencing projects are partnerships between two statutory agencies—the Southern Education and Library Board and the Southern Health and Social Services Board—and Diamond House, a project of Barnardos, an NGO. Barnardos is the largest children’s charity in the UK, servicing England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland, plus the Republic of Ireland. It provides family support, foster placements and FGC and works with children with disabilities, teen mothers, young people who are abused and in domestic violence cases. The Barnardos website is www.barnardos.org.uk/index.jsp.
The FGC and school conferencing pilot projects began in April 2000 and ended in March 2003. Funding from a combination of education and children’s sources has now been obtained to support the projects for three more years. Outcomes of the pilots have generally been positive. In a recent independent evaluation of the work, all the young people who took part in the conferences stated that they would recommend FGC or school conferencing to another young person in a similar situation.
Child welfare FGCs are referred through social services. Marie Gribben, scheme leader of FGC for County Tyrone, said that social services staff members know to refer to FGCs because they received awareness training at the beginning of the project, which has been repeated annually. Child welfare cases referred to FGCs include those where parents are under stress and having difficulty coping with their children. FGCs engage the extended family to help provide a safety net for the child, said Gribben. In three FGCs involving parental death, the extended family offered placements to the children. FGCs have also redirected children being considered for foster care to family placement. Children already in state care have gone back to live with their parents with the support of extended family, or have been placed with extended family or into a shared-care arrangement between foster parents or residential units and extended family members. In the latter cases, a child may remain in state care and spend weekends or other times with extended family. All these arrangements enable family to be more involved in a child’s life, said Gribben.
The project employs the New Zealand model, with special attention paid to ensuring that the voice of the child is heard, said Gribben. When the FGC project began, the emphasis initially was on engaging the extended family and the child was not the focus. Now, three contacts are made with the child prior to the FGC to learn about her anxieties, needs, dreams and what she would like to happen at the conference and to determine how best to help her share this information. Children of all ages attend the conference and the facilitator supports them at the meeting. “Children have been very vocal and clear about what they want to say,” said Gribben. Children say where they want to live and the reasons why. A child might tell his parents: “I don’t want you to be upset, but I think I’m picking aunt or uncle over you.” Children often express gratitude to people for coming to a conference about them. “It’s fun to hear from them directly,” said Gribben, “and very powerful.”
One reason FGC works well in Ireland, said Gribben, is because it mirrors ancient Irish culture. For centuries, Ireland was governed by the Brehon Laws, which allowed that decisions about orphaned children, widows, people with disabilities or those who had committed crimes were to be made by kin (extended family) or clan (a wider group). There are still very strong family links in Ireland, said Gribben, especially in rural areas. County Tyrone, the project locale, is a rural area. But, she said, even in Northern Ireland’s cities, everyone comes from a rural background, two generations back or less.
Gribben noted that FGCs had begun to change the culture of social work in her area. “While 52 conferences have been held, we are becoming continually aware of the ‘systemic impact’ of even introducing the idea of conferencing to families and young people,” she said, adding, “Engagement has in itself led to change and the harnessing of support from family and friends, removing the need for a conference. We are beginning to record these incidents now.” She cited the case of a 13-year-old boy who was sole caregiver for his chronically ill mother and his younger sister. The mother was too proud to ask for help from anyone and the boy was so over-burdened that he attempted suicide. The mother received information and a pamphlet on FGCs explaining the way extended family can help with family problems and took it upon herself to set up a support network within her extended family. A formal FGC never took place.
Gribben said that Diamond House was exploring the use of FGC with domestic violence, which has been an issue in a number of child welfare cases. She said they were influenced in this area by the work of Joan Pennell and Gale Burford, co-directors of the FGDM Project in Newfoundland, Labrador and New Brunswick, Canada in the 1990s. This project used an adaptation of New Zealand FGC to reduce domestic violence and by Hampshire County, England’s DOVE domestic violence project, directed by Sharon Inglis. (The DOVE Project will be covered in an upcoming IIRP eForum article focusing exclusively on FGC in Hampshire County.) Gribben also said that Diamond House was examining the use of FGCs with teen mothers, harnessing family support to help them care for their children.
The Diamond House school group conferencing project is coordinated by Cathy McCann, who is an education welfare officer, a school vice principal and a school conference facilitator. Conferencing involves young people taking responsibility for and restoring the harm caused by their actions, said McCann. She said that they were inspired to use the Real Justice model after learning about it at a conference in April, 2000, from IIRP president Ted Wachtel and Terry O’Connell, director of Real Justice Australia, an IIRP program.
First, said McCann, they raised awareness about the pilot in their area. To date, nine schools have put themselves forward to participate. Presentations about the program are delivered to the schools’ entire staffs. “Everyone has to understand the process for it to benefit the kids,” said McCann. Referrals to the program come from education welfare officers (school social workers), other school personnel, non-school social workers and youth diversion officers (police officers who work with youth). “We have a good partnership with all the agencies,” said McCann. Most referrals are for behavioral issues: volatile conduct, bullying, being disrespectful to teachers, verbal assault and truancy. From September 2000 through April 2003, the conferencing program had 69 inquiries, 55 paper referrals, 27 conferences and 16 review conferences. Both Protestant and Catholic students are involved in the project, making it a cross-community endeavor, said McCann.
After a referral has been made, the young person is asked who he or she wants to attend the conference. Because the kids choose whom to invite, they take better ownership of the process, said McCann. Most choose their mother or father and sometimes extended family members and friends. Although McCann makes it clear that it’s preferable for both parents to attend the conference, usually only one parent does, often because the other has to work. Kids are asked if they want their friends to attend, but most choose not to invite them. Friends attending can be a positive element, though, said McCann, adding, “When a peer says, ‘Would you wise up?’ it’s better than adults saying it.” Depending on the case, others may attend, as well, including teachers, school administrators, social workers and youth diversion officers. “We want to deal with things holistically,” said McCann, adding, “It’s important that everyone understands what’s going on.”
McCann does pre-conference preparation, visiting students so that they understand the process and feel comfortable enough to participate and not “just say what they think we want to hear. The child needs to build trust in me,” she said. Conferences are held at school during the school day. The first year, they were held after school, but that wasn’t convenient for the teachers, said McCann.
In the conference, people are invited to sit in a circle, with the offender and the victim on either side of McCann and their supporters beside them, and are asked restorative questions: who was affected and how, how they feel about it, how to repair the harm. In that way, the students get to understand that their actions have an effect on people other than themselves, said McCann. There are no freeloaders at the meeting, she said, adding, “If a child can bear his soul, everyone else can too.” Toward the end of the conference, everyone comes up with a plan for how to prevent wrongdoing in the future and the child has to approve it. Future support for the child from professionals and parents is ensured at the conference. “If a kid is not getting support at home in some way, they’re not going to improve,” she said.
McCann told a story of a 16-year-old boy who had verbally threatened a teacher, been suspended from school several times and was about to be expelled unless he agreed to attend a conference. He had been an offered one once before and had declined. He asked McCann if he really had to have a conference. The process is voluntary, so she told him: You have a choice, but it’s limited—you can either have a conference or be expelled. He chose the conference because he wanted to take his exams.
McCann discovered that the boy found it difficult to talk and that he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to get the right words out in the conference. She told him to write down the questions and answers so he wouldn’t forget them. He was prepared to say that he was sorry, that he felt guilty, that he never would have really hurt his teacher. At the meeting, the boy never needed to refer to his paper with the questions. He was articulate and made eye contact. He was back in school in two days. Two months later, he’s still doing fine. Afterwards, the boy’s school principal said that he couldn’t believe he was the same person. Said McCann: “He needed to hear: ‘You can do it,’ rather than ‘We don’t want you here.’” Another 12-year-old had also been suspended several times. In the conference he heard his father say—for the first time—that he was proud of him. At the end of the conference when the boy was asked what had surprised him about the meeting, he said, “That my daddy could be proud of me.” This is very powerful stuff, said McCann.
The stumbling block to people accepting the idea of conferencing in schools has been the fact that it’s a real change from what they’re used to, said McCann. Now, she said, kids are being maintained within the school system because of the support systems developed in conferences, instead of being expelled. Said McCann: “When you give young people a chance to speak that’s enough to empower them to take responsibility for their actions.” The whole process has to be acknowledged, McCann said, adding, “If I meet with them several times, sometimes they don’t need the conference.” Barnardos is hoping to engage with 70 families and do 25 FGCs and 25 school conferences in Northern Ireland in the coming year.
In the Republic of Ireland, the FGC and restorative justice conferencing models are being combined in restorative justice initiatives for young offenders. The information below was obtained from a conversation with Kieran O’Dwyer, Head of Research for An Garda S'ochan√Ø¬ø¬Ω (Ireland’s National Police Service), at the Garda Research Unit, Garda S'ochan√Ø¬ø¬Ω College, Templemore, County Tipperary, Republic of Ireland. This article also cites a paper addressing an overview of results from evaluations of 83 cases, which O’Dwyer presented at the Second Conference of the European Forum for Victim-Offender Mediation and Restorative Justice, in Oostende, Belgium, October 2002.
A juvenile diversion program has been in operation in Ireland since 1963 without statutory backing, said O’Dwyer. The Children Act 2001 has since provided support for restorative justice interventions, including a police referral provision, which was brought into effect in May 2002. Under the Act, all young offenders who admit responsibility for their criminal behavior must be considered for diversion “unless the interests of society require otherwise.”
Ireland’s youth justice diversion program was inspired by New Zealand youth justice FGCs, but unlike New Zealand’s program, it is entirely voluntary. O’Dwyer considers the voluntary aspect, for both offender and victim, to be critical, as “it helps ensure that the event itself and any agreement it produces are not seen as punishment.” It also helps ensure “positive engagement with the process and commitment to any agreement.” The program operates differently from the New Zealand model in other ways, said O’Dwyer. It is closer to the Thames Valley (UK) restorative conferencing program, he said, but unlike that program, is used only with young people, not adults. (For a research summary about the Thames Valley Police Initiative in Restorative Conferencing, go to: http://www.iirp.org/pdf/thamesvalley.pdf.)
The restorative interventions used in diversion are commonly referred to as either restorative cautions or family conferences. To avoid confusion, said O’Dwyer, the term “restorative police event” is often used. (A police caution is the formal disposal of a criminal case without the involvement of prosecutors or the courts.) A restorative caution includes discussion of the offender’s criminal behavior. After the formal caution “finger-wagging” is done, said O’Dwyer, a conference is a chance to bring people together to focus on a specific occurrence, with an emphasis on drawing up an action plan. In this context, said O’Dwyer, FGC is “not terribly different from restorative conferencing.”
In the family conference, the young person is made accountable for his actions, the victim can attend and tell his story, the young person can apologize for the harm he has done and possibly arrange to make reparations, including financial compensation, and an action plan is prepared to prevent a recurrence of offending behavior. Conferences are recommended and facilitated by juvenile liaison officers (JLOs), Gardai (police officers) specially trained to work with young people. JLOs are “the gatekeepers to the Garda system of restorative justice,” said O’Dwyer. They are “not like the real police,” he said, adding, “They’re almost never in uniform and can go into places where others can’t go.” All JLOs are trained in restorative justice. A different JLO facilitates the conference from the one who is supervising the case, to provide distance and protect against the danger that the JLO would try to implement his or her own agenda at the conference.
As in FGC, the conference begins with preparation. “Preparation is everything,” said O’Dwyer. The facilitating JLO visits the family of the youth offender and that of the victim. This is something that needs to be looked at carefully, said O’Dwyer, adding, “We don’t want JLOs making deals” between victims and offenders before the conference about reparation amounts or directing the process too much in other ways, e.g., recommending anger management for offenders. ‘This is not the way it should work,” said O’Dwyer.
Conferences are held in community centers, hotels, sometimes at schools if they’re involved—somewhere everyone feels safe. Conferences used to be held in police stations, said O’Dwyer, but they’re moving away from that now. Conferences are often held in the evening. One advantage to having police as facilitators is that they’re on duty at night, said O’Dwyer. If the victim is young, it’s possible that he or she might not attend the conference, only his or her parents. If either the victim or the offender is under 18 years of age, parents are required by law to be involved. Participation of a large extended family is rare. Usually only a few people from the family attend, said O’Dwyer.
Ground rules are agreed upon at the beginning of the conference, including a requirement to listen to each other respectfully, an assurance that everyone will have a chance to speak and that the proceedings will be confidential. The Real Justice script is used. A conference begins with the facilitator asking the offender: What happened? What were you thinking about at the time? What have you thought about since the incident? Who do you think has been affected by your actions? How have they been affected? Who was affected? The victim is asked: What was your reaction at the time of the incident? How do you feel about what happened? What has been the hardest thing for you? How did your family and friends react when they heard about the incident? The victim’s parents and supporters, and the offender’s parents and supporters are asked similar questions and the offender is asked if he or she has anything else to add. Private family time, as used in the New Zealand model, when the family is left alone to make its own decisions regarding an action plan, is offered, said O’Dwyer, but most people don’t take it.
The key elements of the conference, said O’Dwyer, are an apology from the offender to the victim and a promise not to repeat the offense. The offender must show true remorse, he said. Most action plans tend not be too complicated or ambitious. Reparations, including “onerous duties and obligations” are not usually a feature of action plans, but often service to the victim is included. Plans may involve joining a club, taking part in a special police project, staying in school, going for counseling or paying reparations to the victim. There are rarely over two elements in any plan, said O’Dwyer.
Some very serious offenses have been dealt with successfully in a restorative way, said O’Dwyer. At first, JLOs tried to stay away from conferencing the harder cases but now they are deliberately choosing those cases to conference—such as those involving grievous assault—and some of those conferences are really dramatic and emotional. “At the beginning of the first conference I was a skeptic,” said O’Dwyer, but now he sees conferences as “the most natural way to deal with the harm caused.” In conferences, people see that others have their best interests at heart, he said.
“The restorative justice philosophy fits well with the Garda commitment to giving young offenders a second chance under the Juvenile Diversion Program,” said O’Dwyer. He feels that a significant start was made when restorative justice was introduced on a pilot basis before the enactment of the Children Act, and hopes that the Act will present opportunities to mainstream the restorative approach. O’Dwyer would like to see the process tried to its full potential and envisions much wider implications, including implementation with adults as well as young people.
Olmsted County, Minnesota, USA has been the in the forefront of Family Group Decision Making (FGDM) initiatives. FGDM is part of Minnesota’s Alternative Response program. The Alternative Response program is a strength-based and community-oriented approach to addressing child maltreatment reports that do not meet statutory requirements for a mandated investigative approach, which ensures that children are safe, avoids negative labels for parents, sets aside the issue of fault, works in partnership with parents, identifies families’ needs, provides services and resources matched to those needs and builds on parents’ and communities’ strengths and resources.
The Olmsted County FGDM project began in 1996. Suzanne Lohrbach is supervisor of Child Protection Services (CPS), Olmsted County Community Services. Lohrbach said that in designing its FGDM program, Olmsted CPS was influenced by the UK Department of Health publication: “Child Protection and Child Abuse: Messages from Research, 1995,” which advocated partnerships between social workers and families as well as collaboration among professionals, as opposed to the traditional, paternalistic approach where professionals talk only to each other and exclude families. Lohrbach said that they look at FGDM as a partnership and at “how to connect that with a family centered practice.”
Minnesota has 300-plus facilitators trained in FGDM, which is the preferred process in child welfare cases in Olmsted County, said Lohrbach. “Families are told: ‘This is what we do,’ ” she said. If a family objects to the process, a more traditional approach is taken, but it’s much more piecemeal and takes longer. Olmsted CPS has performed satisfaction surveys in which an overwhelming majority of respondents, both families and service providers, found FGDM to be useful and helpful.
FGDM is used in many situations in Olmsted: in early intervention cases, in alternative response safety plans, with juvenile sex offenders, in transition from treatment to foster care, in adolescent independence plans and in TANIFF (Temporary Assistance to Needy Families) cases to decide plans for families when public assistance runs out. Lohrbach’s ultimate vision is of “open community referrals” whereby anyone—related to child welfare or not—may develop an FGDM plan for the care of an elderly relative, a terminally ill parent, a child or others.
Several different FGDM models are used in Olmsted County, including the New Zealand FGC model, which incorporates private family time, and the Family Unity Meeting (FUM) model, which does not include private family time but stresses devoting time to exploring the family’s strengths and concerns. The decision about which model to use is fleshed out during conference preparation, sometimes based on whether there are enough family members to use private family time, said Lohrbach.
As FUM was the first model introduced in Olmsted, facilitators are accustomed to incorporating strengths and concerns in their meetings, said Lohrbach, but she wondered about the process’s “cultural relevance.” She asked: “Who is it for—the family or the facilitator? Is it designed just to keep a comfortable, positive atmosphere?” She thought that the strengths and concerns segment might cause meetings to lose focus. On the other hand, Lohrbach had concerns about the presentation of facts portion—or information-giving time—in the New Zealand FGC model, asking: “What is that? It could be interpretation, values, what social workers bring with them to the meeting.”
The primary model in use in Minnesota is an FGC hybrid, which both explores strengths and concerns and employs private family time. Lohrbach said that they were trying to return to a “purer” FGC model, one closer to the original model developed in New Zealand. She commented: “It’s okay to do different things but you have to be careful not to blur the models.” Looking at a pure model is important for research purposes, to ensure that the data is meaningful. “The accountability model, the circle process, all these are fine,” she said, but in order to institute good process and practice, you have to know what it is, to be able demonstrate its effectiveness. “If you can’t do that,” she said, “it dies.” Finally, said Lohrbach, “All these new models worry me. I’m not sure we have to keep reinventing the wheel. I hope we never see a Minnesota model of FGDM. We want to have international relevance.”
Lohrbach said she thought it was critical that FGDM be mainstream practice. But, she said, “It can’t be used for everything.” Preparation is essential to determine if there is a decision to be made, and if the social worker or the probation officer is willing to share power with the family. FGDM won’t work if they are not. Because it’s our usual practice at Olmsted CPS, she said, these objections are rare in child welfare.
Progress has been slower in juvenile probation, said Lohrbach, adding, “there is no real conferencing being done around youth justice.” Real Justice practice has been murky and blurred, she said, and there are several different [restorative justice] models used in Minnesota in the context of youth justice—from victim offender mediation to circles and restorative conferences. There had been similar confusion in the child welfare area. In 1997, the Minnesota legislature inserted language into the child welfare law about relative (kinship) care agreements and conferences calling for training in mediation skills. Lohrbach said that she and her colleagues succeeded in changing the language to specify FGDM instead. Lohrbach said that she would like to bring youth justice into her unit. “The intent of Ted [Wachtel, of the IIRP] and Lisa [Merkel-Holguin, of American Humane] is to bring the youth justice and child welfare groups together, to untangle the blur that’s happened here,” she said.
A parallel justice process is in use in family court, said Lohrbach. Families are now ordered to what is called a Family Case Planning Conference when it has been determined through screening that there is a legal interest in child protection. Cases are brought to a Family Case Planning Conference prior to filing a petition for custody or supervision. The process is completely family-involved, non-exclusionary and non-adversarial: public defenders, lawyers, social service providers and families attend. A guardian ad litem may represent a child. The purpose is to develop the next step for the child. Better than half of these meetings have referred to an FGDM to flesh out a plan, said Lohrbach.
The Etobicoke Family Group Conferencing Project, in Toronto, Ontario, Canada, serves the Toronto metropolitan area. Jeanette Schmid is Coordinator of the program, based at the George Hull Centre for Children and Families. Their website is www.georgehullcentre.on.ca. Schmid joined the FGC project in 1998. The program initially focused exclusively on cases referred from child welfare, but since 2002 it has also incorporated children’s mental health cases. Every FGC, whether for child welfare or child’s mental health concerns, now has two supervisors from two agencies: one from Children’s Aid and one from Children’s Mental Health. The George Hull Centre for Children and Families, the Etobicoke Children’s Centre, the Children’s Aid Society of Toronto (Etobicoke) and the Catholic Children’s Aid Society of Toronto (Etobicoke) collaborated on the FGC project, which was funded by the Children’s Aid Foundation.
To read a report, “Program Design: The Family Group Conferencing Project Etobicoke” go to: www.iirp.edu/article_detail.php?article_id=NDkz.
The project has held 70 FGCs, some repeat, since April 1998. A majority of the children in these conferences returned to kinship care, although not necessarily to the care of their parents. The result was “higher than expected, and borne out by other results obtained internationally” said Schmid. The results were also better than those in cases where FGC was not used, she said. However, said Schmid, it’s important not to define success in FGC as family preservation. More significant is that “the secrecy is ended around certain issues,” and that the extended family is given an opportunity to play a role in ensuring a child’s safety.
Feedback about the program indicates that families appreciate having a voice and that FGC makes families feel closer and more comfortable asking each other for help. Also, said Schmid, FGCs change the way professionals perceive and are perceived by families. Through FGCs, professionals learn that there really are strengths in families and families feel that professionals better understand their issues.
“It takes hard work to increase the pool of referring social workers,” said Schmid, but those who do refer to FGCs find that the process is a respectful way of dealing with people and tend to refer to FGCs again. Agency workers’ heavy case and paperwork loads have affected FGC referrals because of the inaccurate perception that FGCs take more time than conventional processes, said Schmid. Also, deaths that have occurred under Children’s Aid supervision (unrelated to FGC), have made workers afraid refer to FGCs because of the perception—again inaccurate—that sharing power is a risk.
The Etobicoke project uses the New Zealand FGC model with minor adaptations, said Schmid. Preparation is critical. With over 150 different ethnic, cultural and language groups, Toronto is the most culturally diverse city in the world, said Schmid. The conference is held in a neutral venue and begins by welcoming everyone with any ritual the family chooses—prayers, songs, Bible readings, animistic libations or tributes to the deceased. After a go-round of introductions, the family shares their hopes for the day and sets guidelines and safety plans for the meeting. Next, professionals present brief reports about the child’s situation and address “bottom line” issues, such as the family’s history of substance abuse and permanence time limits set by the province: one year in government or foster care is permitted for a child under age six, two years for a child over six. There follows a concise discussion of the family’s strengths and concerns. “We don’t brainstorm strengths and concerns like in the California model,” said Schmid. Sometimes, as in the New Zealand model, neutral experts on particular topics, such as grief counselors, are invited to share expertise and answer questions. Halfway through the conference is often the time for a meal break.
The second part, private family time, when the family comes up with a plan for the child, is “sacrosanct,” said Schmid. ‘The only direction I give,” she said, “is to write on their flip chart: Who, What, When, Where, How.” The professionals, including researchers, stay outside the room during private family time. “If family members come out and tell us things aren’t going well, we will work with them and get them to go back inside,” said Schmid.
When the family is ready, it presents the plan to the professionals, who then ask questions. In the past, families felt they were losing control of the process during this part of the meeting, said Schmid, adding, “Workers were doing too much to flesh out the plan.” Now, she said, if necessary, the professionals ask for more detail on the plans, sending the family back into private time. Then the issue of “next steps” is addressed. One third of families ask for a follow-up conference. In a final go-round, all participants say whether or not the process has been useful to them. Schmid delivers a copy of the plan to everyone—families and professionals—within 10 days.
It’s up to children whether or not they attend the conference. For the most part, children of all ages do attend. “With the child present, people stay on the subject at hand—the child,” said Schmid. For children, the conference breaks the secrecy about what’s been happening to them. Although it can be distressing for children to hear about abuse and family problems, it’s also reassuring to hear people talking about plans for their safety and to know that people care about them. Children age four and up are asked what they want the adults to know. The child’s support person, a non-professional chosen by the child to aid him or her throughout the FGC process, can help elicit this information. The conference can be the first time some extended family members meet the child and this in itself can be a very emotional experience. On balance, said Schmid, it’s better for the child to be there.
There has been no move as yet to incorporate FGC into law in Ontario. Schmid hopes that FGC will soon be officially recognized and financially supported. At the Catholic Children’s Aid Society, an important partner in FGC practice, social workers are now asked as a matter of course whether they’ve thought about using FGC in each case, and if not, why not. Schmid would like to see this as general practice in all child agencies. She believes, however, that FGCs should always be voluntary: “Neither families nor professionals should be coerced.” Still, she thinks that the decision about whether to hold an FGC should not be left only to the parents, but to the family network as a whole.
North Carolina, USA has been a center for FGC work. Joan Pennell is professor and director at North Carolina State University Social Work Program and principal investigator of the North Carolina Family-Centered Meetings Project. She and Gale Burford were co-directors of the FGDM Project in Newfoundland, Labrador and New Brunswick, Canada, in the 1990s, which used an adaptation of New Zealand FGC to reduce domestic violence.
In fall, 1998 Pennell began a four-year child welfare project, training families and introducing FGC to North Carolina. Her article about mainstreaming FGC can be read at: http://www.iirp.edu/article_detail.php?article_id=NDky.
“We began by involving communities,” said Pennell. The project kick-off included social services professionals, police, foster parents and others. Community liaisons were chosen to help plan the training and tailor it to each area. Local advisory groups were set up to involve interested people, such as domestic violence counselors and pastors, who were really important, especially in the beginning, said Pennell. Coordinators varied by community, she said, but they were never the same people as those carrying the cases. A statewide advisory committee was formed, including state and county representatives from the Department of Social Services, police, the courts and domestic violence and disabilities agencies, which “gave richness to the discussion,” said Pennell.
From the start, there was general enthusiasm for the FGC model, although concerns were voiced: Are families articulate enough to express themselves? Will they come? How will social service workers deal with coordinator training? Over time, project managers learned that additional training was needed for social workers, regarding which families to refer to FGCs, how to present family history in a way that families can use it constructively, what to do when children come to conferences or how to handle a conference out of state. The group situations of FGCs can be intimidating for social workers, who are mostly accustomed to one-on-one interactions, said Pennell. Extra by-request training is still on-going. Project evaluation also found a need to monitor plans devised at FGCs or to convene follow-up conferences.
FGCs are in use in North Carolina in two types of child welfare cases: those on the “assessment track,” involving need, neglect or dependency—(80 percent of cases), and those on the “forensic track,” involving abuse and the legal system—the “deep end” cases. Ironically, said Pennell, while professionals are often afraid to make referrals to FGCs from the forensic track, they end up doing it anyway because they don’t know what else to do.
Ideally, FGC creates a safe and healthy context for children and families via three pathways: family leadership, community partnerships and cultural safety. The FGC model should include an independent coordinator, thorough preparation, clear information for families, family private time, a clear process for final plans and a way to integrate plans into “work as usual,” AKA mainstream practice. The last is frequently the toughest piece, said Pennell. Too often, the FGC-devised plan “sits in the file next to the social services plan and the two are never put together,” she said. This problem speaks to a need for sustaining partnerships that make the process work: with the courts, community services and cultural groups. “The family leads the process,” said Pennell, “but it should not be dumped on its own to do it alone.”
Another issue important to Pennell is “cultural safety,” a New Zealand term meaning that a context must be created in which it is safe for the family to express its own social values. Social service workers must be able to relate to different cultures. In North Carolina, for example, meetings often open with prayer or gospel songs.
FGC practice guidance developed for North Carolina based on the New Zealand model has been accepted by the state. North Carolina is now undertaking child welfare reform, looking at an alternative response system similar to that in Minnesota, said Pennell. She is also planning to use FGC in domestic violence cases, via the Safety Conference model, which is in the planning stages.
In California, USA, family group conferencing is widespread. Paul Sivak is a professor of social work at California State University, Stanislaus County, California and coordinator of the Child Welfare Training project. He provides training and support to agencies developing family group conferencing. He is also on advisory committees to the National Center on FGDM of the American Humane Association.
Out of 58 counties in California, 30 are “playing with family conferencing, with different levels of commitment,” said Sivak. In training, Sivak said that he emphasizes “the fundamental values that underpin the various models of family conferencing,” including the two “sacred” elements of “intense pre-meeting work” and private family time, both of which “must be adhered to absolutely.” Any other structure is good, he said, so he trains people in “what works best for them.” Models he uses include everything from FGC, which, he said, employs a “facilitated meeting with a short period of information-sharing,” all the way to a longer facilitated meeting, stressing strengths and concerns.
Sivak is leaning toward the FGC model. “Social services people are reasserting themselves” via strengths and concerns, said Sivak, adding, “Many families who have gone through the family conferencing process didn’t have a real family conferencing experience.” All models can be “just as dangerous, unless we shift the value base and build in self-reflection devices,” he said. In Stanislaus County, a pool of 15 – 20 facilitators meets once a month to process their experiences with family conferencing and share successes and failures “with an eye toward going back to the value base,” namely, that the family directs development of the plan for the child and that a partnership grows between social workers and families. Solano County, California is setting up a group, which will include county child welfare workers and community NGOs, to address family conferencing. The 25 “committed folks of the California practitioners’ round-table” meet every three months in various locations around the state to talk out issues related to family group conferencing.
Sivak would like to see the families themselves included in these groups. Groups of families have been meeting on their own to share their experiences with family group conferences and with Child Protective Services. There have also been similar meetings that include both families and social service providers. During the first joint meetings, the professionals were “incredibly defensive” because they’d never perceived themselves as equals of families, said Sivak. “The family-only meetings were very loud and full of laughter,” he said. The last two joint family and professional meetings were also full of laughter but it took community building to get to that point, said Sivak. Family group conferencing must be seen as a long-term community builder, he said.
Ideally, Sivak envisions a grassroots effort to “organize families and get them interested in the political struggle to integrate this new practice.” To that end, he is implementing a long-term “participatory research” project with families. “Our research is based on tools generated by families,” he said, adding, “Families tell us what we should measure and what questions to ask.” Through facilitated focus groups, Sivak has found that families are interested in the change of the nature of relationships inside the family and “the quality of well-being.” Research questions that families would ask include “does the family network really feel that they share responsibility for the child?” and “would you rather handle problems as a group or as an individual?”
Family members, not social workers or professional researchers, are now conducting the research interviews, although not necessarily within their own families. The process may be more time consuming, said Sivak but the end result is “data that’s more rich and more reliable.” Families, “totally uncoaxed” realize that research can be a tool for social change, not just a measurement, and that documentation is power. The non-dominance-based partnership of family conferencing evokes a power that touches a natural part of us, he said. “Restorative practices and family conferencing have the same goal,” said Sivak: rebuilding community and returning healing and decision-making power to people.
Sivak believes that family conferencing must always be voluntary. The California practitioners group is lobbying to short-circuit a move by the state that would require family group conferencing. He would rather see government departments obliged to educate providers about the practice so that they would be prepared, rather than required, to provide it. Said Sivak, “The argument that the ends justify the means is always wrong.”
Vermont, USA has long been the location of many FGC and restorative justice programs. Gale Burford is professor and Director of the State Child Welfare Training Partnership at the University of Vermont Department of Social Work. As previously mentioned, he and Joan Pennell were co-directors of the Family Group Decision Making Project in Newfoundland, Labrador and New Brunswick, Canada, in the 1990s.
Burford has several projects in proposal stage. He is planning an FGC demonstration project in 2003 to bring adult corrections and child welfare personnel together to examine how families overlap with one another in both agencies. But Burford is concerned that “new language” may be needed for the project because “the term family group conferencing sets off so many fusillades. People hear the word conferencing and they think it’s recklessly putting victims where perpetrators will be able to control them.” He thinks it might be safer to talk about “community-based empowerment.”
Burford is definitely an FGC enthusiast. “It contains everything I believe about how we get to lasting solutions,” he said, adding, “Everything tells us that the way to get the best results is to engage the person and members of their family and FGC is one of the only models around that satisfies the criteria.” But, he said, “It creates so much fear and opposition.”
Asked the reasons for the fear and opposition, Burford said that his “harshest theory” posits a “deep, enduring mistrust of groups getting out of control, which can be traced right back to the McCarthy era. People doing this kind of thing were thought to be communists or socialists.” (Joseph McCarthy was a United States senator in the 1950s who spearheaded a relentless anti-Communist crusade.) Also, said Burford, FGC practices threaten professionals, positions and power and child welfare professionals are afraid they will be blamed if something goes wrong. “And they do get blamed,” said Burford. He cited the “gut-wrenching and sickening” case of Victoria Climbie, a little African girl who was tortured and killed in the UK In the aftermath, he said: “People were falling all over themselves with procedures, instead of working with people. A mountain of new procedures was developed, which simply created more ways for families to be excluded.”
There’s a pattern in the US, said Burford: Professionals give lip service to the notions of self-help and mutual aid, but then don’t refer to conferences. It’s the same thing in Sweden and the UK, he said. He cited a Swedish study that interviewed professional people, all of whom thought conferencing was a great idea but “within 18 months less than one-half or one-third had referred families” to the practice. Burford also discussed a Vermont FGC project of several years ago that he regards as an implementation failure. “Families loved it, coordinators loved it,” he said, but the government and NGO partnerships which had made it possible came undone. They dissolved the project despite the report confirming that families loved it. The problem, said Burford, is that there’s no legislation to back up such programs, so they can’t last. “Pockets of real enthusiasm are keeping them alive in different places, but once they diminish they start to lose steam.” In North America, he said, “where everything is so fickle with financing, if we don’t enshrine it in law, it’s gone.”
Burford reported on results of the on-line FGC survey he and Paul Nixon ran via the American Humane Association’s website. Over 200 responses were received, addressing how projects started, what obstacles people encountered and what had made the projects possible. “It was the same all over,” he said, “Practice is under threat of financial whims.” He contrasted this situation with that in New Zealand, where families have a right to the FGC process. On the other hand, wondered Burford, if government-sponsored programs dilute or corrupt practice, “are we better off skating along the margins?” He referred to an FGC training video produced by one the state governments in the US that showed a social worker inappropriately influencing the conference by sternly advising a family: “Your job is to decide which one of you takes this child home.” Added Burford, “Ted [Wachtel] has the right idea: develop strong national connections and build organizations to keep things going without politicians’ support. That’s hugely democratic.”
Asked how to help FGC programs endure, Burford said, “We have to move on a lot of fronts at once,” on the local and legislative levels and through education. As an example of success on the grassroots, local front, Burford cited the 1990s FGC domestic violence project in Newfoundland and Labrador: “We ran 10 conferences among 1600 people with 12 to 18 people in each. That’s not very many conferences before you have the entire community involved. That’s a revolution!”
As for legislation, Burford said that FGC practice and philosophy ought to be enshrined in law in “minimalist language,” e.g.: the family has the right be at all meetings where their situation is discussed; the state has the obligation to ensure support for families in getting to the meetings; there must be the opportunity to caucus without undue professional influence; support must be provided to carry out the family’s plan.
One of the biggest challenges to FGC is funding the plan, said Burford. But blocks to funding among various agencies and organizations usually “turn out to be things they’ve invented themselves.” Said Burford, “If we can go into an organization and get people together, we can figure it out.”
Concerning education, Burford said, “We have to get our feet into professional training programs and transform the brains of professionals. They’re the ones who are giving us the most trouble.” Social workers, psychologists and psychiatrists need to understand that FGC won’t harm vulnerable people, he said, and that FGC is the best way to honor people’s rights and consider the well-being of the community.
Burford concluded: “We must seize the ball soon while we have agreement on the left and the right or we will miss the opportunity.” In the US for the past decade, he said, an unlikely combination of people on the far-right and moderate-left has come to agree on certain principles. The right is saying to the left: “We are happy to hear that you no longer need to throw billions of dollars at welfare.” The left is saying to the right: “We’re glad you’re in favor of empowerment and community.” FGC appeals to a wide spectrum, said Burford, both “the family values crowd on the right and the empowerment people on the left.”
Author’s note: I want to thank the fascinating and dedicated people who kindly agreed to an interview with me during the past several months regarding family group conferencing. Everyone one I spoke with—from Finland to Australia—was excited about the power of the process and their enthusiasm was infectious. And although each person might not have agreed on all the finer points of language and methodology, all shared the underlying conviction that people and their families and friends are best equipped to make decisions about each other’s care and support. This belief is deeply democratic and it includes everyone: small children, the elderly, those who have been categorized as delinquent or mentally ill. I was profoundly moved by stories of how people’s lives were changed by the process. And I was encouraged to hear that practitioners and proponents of all the approaches are realizing that they are working toward the same goal: building a global alliance for family empowerment and restoring community in a disconnected world.
The Restorative Practices eForum will continue to feature FGC programs in the future. An article to be published soon will discuss FGC programs in child welfare, domestic violence, education and youth justice in Hampshire County, UK.
- Written by Laura Mirsky
To me, what will make the biggest difference to the largest number of people is applying basic restorative principles to what we do every day.
— Paul Schnell
Paul Schnell has been a police officer for ten years, most recently in St. Paul, Minnesota, U.S.A. Schnell is a pioneer in the use of conferencing for serious offenses and is now actively promoting the use of informal restorative practices in many areas of policing. Recently, he was named St. Paul Police Officer of the Year. Schnell was interviewed by journalist Laura Mirsky at IIRP’s Third International Conference on Conferencing, Circles and other Restorative Practices in August 2002.
Q: How did you first become involved with restorative practices?
A: I started out as a school liaison officer. I worked with kids who were placed in an alternative setting because they were not functioning in the mainstream school community. I was a new cop who thought that because I was given a gun, a badge and a shiny set of handcuffs, I could use my authority to address inappropriate or unlawful behavior and I would immediately get their attention. That didn’t work with these kids. In fact, I arrested a lot of kids—a ton of them. I arrested many of these kids over and over again.
I became familiar with restorative practices about eight years ago when I heard about Terry O’Connell’s experience in Australia. [Editor’s note: Terry O’Connell is the director of Real Justice Australia, an IIRP program, and a former police officer. For more information about Real Justice go to: www.realjustice.org] After learning about that, I began to think that maybe restorative practices would be more effective than the manner in which I was trying to address those problems. The way I was operating wasn’t working and something else needed to be done. I had the support of the department and there was an opportunity to participate in some training.
Ted Wachtel [president of the International Institute of Restorative Practices] had made inroads with Terry and organized some training in Pennsylvania, U.S.A., and folks from Australia who had a lot of experience with conferencing came. I was fortunate to have participated in that training. It was a great experience. When I came back, I actively sought places where I could use my discretion as a school liaison officer to resolve problems that might otherwise be referred to court. It became clear that this was the right way to go.
Q: How do you use restorative practices in the St. Paul Police Department?
A: At first, I thought the only way we could use restorative practices was through formal processes like conferencing and those sorts of things, but I have found other applications in policing as well.
Q: Do you have an example of an informal use of restorative practices?
A: The simple reality is that most of the time when a police officer comes to take a report from you, for instance if somebody breaks into your car and steals your golf clubs, the likelihood of catching the person who committed that crime is probably small. Often, the experience of that is far more than just the loss of their golf clubs. To me, that’s what’s interesting. By using very simple restorative language, you can begin to help people better deal with and understand that experience.
Q: What kind of language would you use in a case like that?
A: Usually, when a cop asks you questions about a loss or a theft, he only asks you for the basics: who, what, when, where, your name, your address and those sorts of things. Never is that victim likely to be asked any other questions beyond that. One of the things that I have been trying to routinely ask people who make a compliant, or report having been the victim of a crime, is one simple question, “What has this has been like for you?” or “What’s been the hardest thing for you?”
Often, they won’t talk about the fact that they were expensive golf clubs. Instead, they’ll talk about the fact that they can’t believe somebody would violate what was theirs, that they thought they lived in a safer neighborhood and that at least one of their neighbors would have seen something because they live in a community that watches out for each other. You really begin to understand the depth of how people are impacted—what it’s really about.
Q: How do people react to being asked questions like that by a police officer?
A: New officers that I am training ask me why I always ask that question. I tell them that, most of the time, people like being asked that question because it really begins to draw out their experience of that crime in a very different way. When it seems that we’re probably not going to catch the perpetrator, and the victim is not going to be able to confront that person, it’s a way for me to ask a very simple question that might help them put their experience into some context. But I don’t think people expect it from police.
For instance, in the golf club example, the person might ask, “Am I safe in my own neighborhood? Were these people targeting me? Were they watching me?” Those are natural questions. In most cases, people are extremely safe. The likelihood that someone had targeted them for their golf clubs is miniscule. It provides an opportunity to talk and teach them about crime prevention in a very different way by using their experience.
Q: How does it help you to talk about crime prevention?
If we hope formal restorative processes will ever be wholly embraced by police and by criminal justice on a broader level, that’s going to be easier to accept and implement if police use informal restorative practices when responding to the needs of someone in their community.
A: Frequently, the crime prevention discussion people have with police consists of being told, “The way you avoid being a victim is by taking your expensive golf clubs in the house.” However, if I come to you and I say, “Tell me what this has been like for you,” they say, “I’m wondering if I was targeted.” I tell them that the evidence that the police have, and those who commit these crimes tell us, that they don’t target—they walk around and look for opportunities. Then I tell them that one thing that they can do is talk to people in their neighborhood and encourage them to minimize the opportunity for theft by securing their property. What I’ve done is empowered them, as opposed to saying, “If you want to avoid being a victim, lock-up your stuff.” It’s a fundamentally different experience. That’s what I think we can give people.
Q: Are new police officers trained in restorative practices?
A: I’m a field training officer and one of my responsibilities is to work with new officers that are joining our department. It’s critical that I model what I think is essential to policing. If we hope formal restorative processes will ever be wholly embraced by police and by criminal justice on a broader level, that’s going to be easier to accept and implement if police use informal restorative practices when responding to the needs of someone in their community. When that happens in a restorative manner, the formal processes will be much easier to integrate.
Q: How have the new officers responded to this idea?
A: With some surprise. It certainly generates a lot of discussion about what’s important about policing. That’s what my job is as a field training officer—to ensure that they are doing things properly, safely and that they’re responding to the needs of the people in the community. This is a way that we can do that. It falls outside of the formal training that officers are receiving, but certainly it is something that I hope is helpful. Based on the responses officers receive from complainants and victims, I think it is.
Q: How have offenders responded to the use of restorative practices?
One of the best things about my policing experience has been the opportunity to be involved in restorative processes where offenders have come to a realization about how their behavior has harmed others.
A: I have had absolutely incredible experiences with both formal and informal processes and offenders. One of the best things about my policing experience has been the opportunity to be involved in restorative processes where offenders have come to a realization about how their behavior has harmed others.
Q: Can you tell me about a specific case?
A: This is something that police deal with every day. There was a particular family who had two young kids that were wreaking havoc on their neighborhood. In the course of a 60-day period, we had about 40 calls for service in that area—all related to the same two kids. By everyone’s estimation, they were seen as no good, as bad to the core. They believed that the only way the problem was going to stop was when someone got seriously hurt.
We didn’t have a crime as such, but we had lots of little quality-of-life problems—noise, property damage, things destroyed and broken windows. We couldn’t necessarily pin it on these kids, but people knew that these kids were involved. People were frustrated.
We tried to talk to the two young boys who were involved in this. We did the traditional police lecture thing and that didn’t work. We talked to their parents and did the traditional lecture with them—“You need to maintain better control,” et cetera. Ultimately, when nothing else was working, I took the opportunity to run a conference—a restorative process that people in the neighborhood, this family and the boys were invited to take part in.
The conference was heavy with emotion. Everyone was very upset about all the things that were going on. Everyone wanted things to be different, from the two boys, to their parents, to all of the neighbors. What happened during that process was absolutely astounding. The discussion didn’t center on how bad the boys were. It didn’t center on the fact that windows were broken, people’s plants were destroyed or that young kids weren’t able to sleep because of the loud music at night. The discussion was about reaching agreement on the rules they wanted. It was about what kind of neighborhood they wanted. These kids and their parents were invited to be a part of that for the first time.
In the following six months, we had one police call. That was the result of one of the boys needing a mental health placement. It had nothing to do with anything that affected the neighborhood. During the conference process, the kids spoke, the parents spoke and the neighbors spoke. They all decided what they wanted their neighborhood to look like and how they were going to treat one another. In doing that, the problems were resolved. That’s a great way to police. What we had done 40 times in those past 60 days didn’t work, but we spent two hours one night engaging the people who were affected by the boys’ behavior and we had a totally different outcome.
Q: Does the police administration support restorative practices?
A: Clearly, there has been support. Has it been institutionalized? No. Do they encourage the continuation of these types of practices? Absolutely. Police organizations across the board are encouraged to be problem-solving organizations. Problem-solving policing, which is closely linked to community policing, has been actively encouraged in most U.S. police agencies.
Q: Have you used conferencing for more serious offenses?
A: After being involved in around 500 different conferencing processes, I decided that numbers didn’t matter anymore. It was about the experience. I had been involved in conferences for extremely minor offenses to cases involving death or sexual assault of children.
One case I was involved in was with a guy who was in prison for having sexually abused a child, who was then 12 years old, over a six-year period. He was a friend of the girl’s family. He was in prison. I was contacted by the family because there were a lot of things happening in the neighborhood stemming from his conviction.
The offender’s family was being sought out and targeted by the victim’s family. His wife and children were being stigmatized. Ultimately, it lead to a conference that was held at the prison with the parents of the victim, the offender and his then ex-wife (they had divorced after he went to prison) to talk about the whole experience. It was absolutely and undeniably excruciating for everyone involved, including myself. But they all talked about it later as having been a phenomenal experience. Did it change anything that had happened? No. Did it help them develop a better understanding of what the experience was like for everyone? Yes. It was incredible. For me, it was an honor to be allowed to be a part of some terribly painful stuff.
Q: Did the victimization of the offender’s family stop after the conference?
A: It stopped immediately. This is because one of the things the court process didn’t address became very clear in the conference process. The court process locked him up and punished him, but the conference process was an opportunity to face him, ask him questions and address the betrayal. The formal court process couldn’t be expected to do that, but the conference process did.
I hope that we apply restorative practices not only in working with the communities that we serve, but also in how we relate to one another as cops and in how we relate to our organizations.
Q: What are your hopes and dreams for the future of restorative practices in policing?
A: One of my dreams is: if you have a complaint about the manner in which you were treated by a police officer, it could be addressed restoratively. I think it would make great sense for that complaint to be brought directly to the officer. That way, the officer can focus on what the issues were, what the harm may have been and, if possible, try to resolve that harm. Sometimes it may not be as simple as the officer having done something wrong. Sometimes it may just be the manner in which the officer had to do his job under those particular circumstances, which may not have been very nice. It would provide an opportunity for us to better relate to people.
Policing is a great profession. It allows you to see the very best and the very worst of people. I hope that we apply restorative practices not only in working with the communities that we serve, but also in how we relate to one another as cops and in how we relate to our organizations. When we begin to make those types of real connections, I believe it’s ultimately going to make a huge difference in our practice.
To me, what will make the biggest difference to the largest number of people is applying basic restorative principles to what we do every day.