How the Juvenile Justice System is Broken: The Bullies in Blue Need the Boot

In the United States, the Juvenile Justice system is the collection of multiple state and local court-based systems that handle minors who come in contact with law enforcement, are accused of breaking the law, or are convicted of criminal offences.

According to the Texas Commission on Law Enforcement, in the state of Texas, out of the thousand school districts over three hundred of them have their own internal police department. According to Michael Antu, the Deputy Chief of the Commission, of the hundred and ninety-two law enforcement agencies that have been created in Texas since 2017, ninety-nine of them are school police departments. The uniformed police officers who are placed at schools across the country are known as “School Resource Officers” or SROs. Their job is to patrol the school and make sure that it is a safe environment for the students to learn and be, but how safe is it actually?

Many of the schools that have SROs look more like detention centers rather than schools. They are decorated with full-body metal detectors, detection wands, security cameras, and officers as the hall and premise monitors. How are students supposed to feel safe when right outside of their classroom door there is someone who is fully armed and legally allowed to use physical force on them? Students of colour, visible minorities, and physical and mental disabilities are affected the most by the people who are actually meant to keep them safe. They are penalized for every little thing; they are more likely than their white peers to be taken aside or out of class for misbehaving; they are more likely to be physically attacked by an officer; they are more likely to be assumed guilty. The list can go on and on, but the reality is that they have not done anything wrong except being a child. Yet, they are still more likely to go to into the system as a juvenile and again as an adult.

The main reason for SROs is to make sure that there is no illegal activity going on and to deal with it in an orderly fashion (if there is any). However, the ACLU office in Pennsylvania researched the impact of school policing and found that “There is no clear empirical basis for the claim that SROs reduce student crime rates” (Kupchik, 1). If there has not been a reduction in the student crime rates, can we really claim that SROs are actually useful? Or that they are properly doing their jobs? In fact, in an article published by Brookings, they mention that SROs “have been linked with increased arrests for noncriminal, youthful behaviour, [and] fueling the school-to-prison pipeline [program]” (King and Schindler).

The officers are not meant to be educators or reinforcers of the school rules such as dress code, skipping class, or having devices out, yet they still act like they have that authority. SROs flag students for every little thing, creating a file and putting them into the criminal justice system for horseplay or situations that could and should be handled by school educators and administrators. The police officers in schools are doing jobs that they are not trained or meant to do, it creates a concentrated policing site which often leads to the formation of school-to-prison pipeline programs. It should make you sick that school and prison are even in the same sentence, much more the fact that it is hyphenated. There are too many students affected by these programs. These school-to-prison programs are a gateway for these children right into the criminal justice system, it fuels mass incarceration. There are countless. Countless, stories that just prove that officers should not be in schools. The ACLU has an entire page and multiple testimonies from students who have been affected by the officers in their school. I recommend reading them to educate yourself, the link is posted below. Just note that their stories are disheartening.

  1. “Bullies in Blue: The Problem with School Policing.” American Civil Liberties Union, DuckDuckGo,
  2. Henning, Kristin. “Cops at the Schoolyard Gate.” Vox, Vox Media, 28 July 2021,
  3. King, Ryan, and Marc Schindler. “A Better Path Forward for Criminal Justice: Reconsidering Police in Schools.” Brookings, The Brookings Institution, Apr. 2022,
  4. Kupchik, Aaron. “Research on the Impact of School Policing – FISA Foundation.” FISA Foundation, ACLU Pennsylvania, Aug. 2020,
  5. Méndez, María. “Almost 100 Texas School Districts Have Added Their Own Police Departments Since 2017, But Not Everyone Feels Safer.” The Texas Tribune, The Texas Tribune, 15 June 2022,,deputy%20chief%20of%20the%20commission.
  6. “What Is Juvenile Justice?” The Annie E. Casey Foundation, The Annie E. Casey Foundation, 13 Dec. 2020,

Children’s Vulnerability During Police Interrogations: The Story of Michael Crowe

The story of Michael Crowe, a 14-year-old child, exemplifies why children need protections during police interrogations. Michael’s traumatic involvement with the criminal justice system began on the night of January 20, 1998 when someone snuck into Stephanie Crowe’s bedroom and stabbed her to death.[1] Police questioned the entire Crowe family the following day, including Michael, Stephanie’s brother.[2] The police read Michael his Miranda rights before questioning him about the murder.[3] However, Michael waived his Miranda rights and spoke with the detectives without an attorney or parent present.[4]

Detectives ignored the fact that on the night of Stephanie’s murder neighbors called the police several times.[5] Neighbors reported that a man was bothering residents and broke into a home in the Crowe’s neighborhood looking for a girl.[6] Detectives had the wrong suspect, but they nonetheless continued to focus their attention on Michael, interrogating him four times.[7]

In the first interview on January 21, 1998, Michael told police that he awoke with a headache around 4:30 a.m. on the morning after Stephanie was murdered, took Tylenol, and went back to his room.[8] Michael retold the same story when police interviewed him for the second time on January 22nd.[9] During the second interrogation, Michael also spoke about how seeing his sister “soaked in blood” the next morning made him cry.[10] He described her as “the best person” and “kind.” Michael expressed anger towards the killer.[11]

            Later that day, police interviewed Michael for a third time for three hours even though he expressed “that he felt sick” at the beginning.[12] Michael once again repeated what he told police during his first and second interviews and said:

I feel like I just … I spent all day away from my family. I couldn’t see them… I feel like I’m being treated like I killed my sister, and I didn’t. It feels horrible, like I’m being blamed for it … Everything I have is gone. Everything. You won’t even let me see my parents. It’s horrible.[13]

Detectives ignored Michael’s pleas and continued to interrogate him by giving a computer stress voice analyzer test.[14] Detectives told Michael that the test proved he was deceiving them and questioned whether there was something he was “blocking out” in his “subconscious mind.”[15] Michael continued to deny that he murdered his sister even as detectives pressured him about whether he needed to confess something.[16] Detectives began to tell Michael that police “found blood in his room, lifted fingerprints off the blood stains, and that the police” knew he killed Stephanie.[17] As Michael repeatedly denied killing his sister, detectives told him that maybe he simply did not remember killing his sister.[18] An emotional and confused Michael asked the detective “if he was sure” that he had killed his sister. To which the detective responded, “‘I’m sure about the evidence. Absolutely.’”[19]

            Finally, detectives interviewed Michael for a fourth time for over six hours on January 23, 1998.[20] Detectives used various interrogation tactics to make Michael confess.[21] Detectives again told Michael that the police had evidence which proved he murdered Stephanie.[22] The detectives also played a “game” with Michael that forced Michael to explain crime scene evidence, but with a rule that Michael could not say “‘I don’t know.’”[23] Detectives continued to tell Michael that he killed Stephanie and he did not remember and “introduced the idea that there were ‘two Michaels,’ a ‘good Michael’ and a ‘bad Michael.’”[24] Finally, detectives told Michael “if he confessed he would get help rather than go to jail.”[25] The detectives continued to pressure Michael into confessing, which resulted in the following exchange:

  1. If I tell you a story, the evidence is going to be a complete lie.

Q. Well, then, tell us the story.

A. Well, I’ll lie. I’ll have to make it up.

Q. Tell us the story, Michael.

A. You want me to tell you a little story?

Q. Tell us the story. What happened that night?

A. Okay. I’m going to warn you right now. It is a complete lie.

Q. Tell us the story.

A. Okay. This is true. I am extremely jealous of my sister.

Q. Okay.

A. She’s always had a lot of friends and good friends and stuff like that. She was friends with people my age, all the popular girls and stuff like that. That’s true. Okay…Okay. Here is the part where I’ll start lying. That night I thought about her. I couldn’t take it anymore. Okay. So I got a knife, went into her room and I stabbed her….

Q. How many times did you stab her?

A. It’s going to be a lie. Three times…

Q. Tell me what the truth is.

A. The only reason I’m trying to lie here is because you presented me with two paths. I’d rather die than go to jail.[26]

The detectives finally had what they saw as a confession and proceeded with criminal charges against Michael.[27] Michael’s story stands as a testament to why the legal community and society as a whole must fight to ensure that the legal injustice, psychological manipulation, and emotional trauma Michael endured during police interrogations does not happen to any other child.

[1] Crowe v. Cty. of San Diego, 608 F.3d 406, 417 (9th Cir. 2010).

[2] Id. at 418.

[3] Id.

[4] Id.

[5] Id. at 417.

[6] Id.

[7] Id. at 418-419.

[8] Id. at 418.

[9] Id. at 418-419.

[10] Id. at 419.

[11] Id.

[12] Id.

[13] Id.

[14] Id.

[15] Id.

[16] Id.

[17] Id.

[18] Id. at 420.

[19] Id.

[20] Id.

[21] Id.

[22] Id.

[23] Id. at 420-421.

[24] Id. at 421.

[25] Id. at 422.

[26] Id.

[27] Id.

Maternal and Infant Mortality: How we are Failing Black Women and Children

The United States continues to have the highest rates of maternal and infant mortality among developed countries.[1] However, maternal and infant mortality rates do not impact all racial and ethnic groups equally.[2] In fact, maternal and infant mortality rates for Black women and children are significantly higher compared to other racial or ethnic groups.[3]

While global rates of maternal mortality have steadily decreased since the 1990s, maternal mortality in the United States has increased, impacting all mothers but especially Black mothers.[4] For example, in New York “between 2006 and 2010 black women were 12 times more likely than white women to die from pregnancy-related causes,” an increase “from seven times more likely between 2001 and 2005.”[5]

In 2020, 861 women in the United States died due to maternal causes, an increase from 754 women in 2019 and 658 women in 2018.[6] This means that 23.8 women died per 100,000 live births in 2020.[7] When broken down by race, 55.3 Black women died per 100,000 live births compared to 18.2 Hispanic women and 19.1 White women per 100,000 live births during the same year.[8]

Although infant mortality rates have decreased since the 1800s, “the disparity between Black and White infant deaths today is actually greater than it was under antebellum slavery.”[9] In 1850, enslaved Black infants were estimated to die “at a rate 1.6 times higher than that of White infants.”[10] Yet, Black infant mortality rates in 2017 were more than 2.3 times higher than White infant mortality rates.[11]

In 2017, the overall infant mortality rate in the United States was 5.79 deaths per 1,000 live births.[12] However, infant mortality rates for Black children was 10.97 deaths per 1,000 live births, more than double the infant mortality rates for Hispanic (5.1 deaths per 1,000 live births) and White (4.67 deaths per 1,000 live births) infants.[13] Of the Black infants who died in 2017, approximately two-thirds died within the first 28 days of their life (neonatal deaths) and one-third died between 28 and 364 days after birth (post neonatal).[14]

Public health officials, medical experts, and social scientists have long pointed to social determinants of health as the cause for racial disparity in maternal and infant mortality rates. However, social determinants by themselves do not fully explain why Black women and children die at such higher rates than their White counterparts in the United States.[15] Instead, unconscious biases embedded in medical institutions amplify the problems involving social determinants of health, impacting the quality of medical care Black women and children receive.[16]

Research has shown that racism is one of the root causes of unequal health outcomes for people of color, “not simply the conditions in which people are born, grow, live, work, play, and age.”[17] In fact, researchers who study the infant mortality difference between Black and White babies have discovered “that controlling for maternal background factors” does not completely explain the racial disparity in infant mortality.[18] Additionally, racial disparities in maternal deaths for Black women persist “regardless of seemingly protective factors,” such as education.[19] Black, college educated women “are more likely to die from pregnancy-related causes than pregnant white, Hispanic, and Asian/Pacific islander women without high school diplomas.”[20] Unfortunately, “Black women, regardless of social or economic status,” have higher rates of maternal mortality.[21]

Every day in the United States Black women and children die because medical providers and institutions fail to listen to Black mothers and do not intervene to save Black women and children’s lives.[22] Cori Bush, a United States Congresswoman, explained how she and her two children almost became maternal and infant mortality statistics.[23] Bush alerted doctors to medical issues she was experiencing during her first pregnancy, but doctors ignored her, instead telling her to go home.[24] A week later, Bush went into preterm labor and delivered her son at 23 weeks gestation.[25] When Bush began going into preterm labor during her second pregnancy, a doctor told her “the baby was going to abort.”[26] Bush pleaded with the doctor to save her baby.[27] The doctor told her “‘Just go home. Let it abort. You can get pregnant again because that’s what you people do,’” clearly referring to Bush’s identity as a Black woman.[28] Fortunately, Bush and her children survived, but their stories stand as a testament to how racism continues to kill Black people.[29] Bush explained in her own words: “Every day, Black women are subjected to harsh and racist treatment during pregnancy and childbirth. Every day, Black women die because the system denies our humanity.”[30] Black women and children deserve better; Black women and children deserve to live.

[1] Jamila Taylor, Katie Hamm, Cristina Novoa & Shilpa Phadke, Eliminating Racial Disparities in Maternal and Infant Mortality: A Comprehensive Policy Blueprint1 (Ctr. for Am. Progress ed., 2019).; Jamila K. Taylor, Structural Racism and Maternal Health Among Black Women, 48 J. of L., Med. & Ethics 506 (2020).

[2] Evelyn J. Patterson, Andréa Becker & Darwin A. Baluran, Gendered Racism on the Body: An Intersectional Approach to Maternal Mortality in the United States, Population Rsch. & Pol’y Rev. 1, 2 (2022).; Reproductive Health: Infant Mortality, Ctr. for Disease Control & Prevention (Sept. 8, 2021),,for%20every%201%2C000%20live%20births.

[3] Taylor, supra note 11.;Rabah Kamal, Julie Hudman, & Daniel McDermott, What do we know about infant mortality in the U.S. and comparable countries? Peterson-KFF (Oct. 18, 2019),

[4] Patterson, Becker & Baluran, supra note 12.

[5] Robin Fields, New York City Launches Committee to Review Maternal Deaths, ProPublica (Nov. 15, 2017),

[6] Donna L. Hoyert, Maternal Mortality Rates in the United States, 2020, Nat’l Ctr. for Health Stat. (Feb. 2022),

[7] Id.

[8] Id.

[9] Deirdre Cooper Owens & Sharla M. Fett, Black Maternal and Infant Health: Historical Legacies of Slavery, 109 Am. J. of Pub. Health 1342, 1343 (2019).

[10] Id.

[11] Kamal, Hudman, & McDermott, supra note 13.  

[12] Kamal, Hudman, & McDermott, supra note 13.  

[13] Id.

[14] Id.

[15] Kamal, Hudman, & McDermott, supra note 13.; Taylor, supra note 11 at 506, 511.

[16] Martin & Montagne, supra note 40.

[17] U.S. Dep’t of Health and Hum. Serv., supra note 26.  

[18] Kamal, Hudman, & McDermott, supra note 13.

[19] Keri Carvalho, Anna Kheyfets, Pegah Maleki, Brenna Miller, Siwaar Abouhala, Eimaan Anwar, & Ndidiamaka Amutah-Onukagha, A Systematic Policy Review of Black Maternal Health-Related Policies Proposed Federally and in Massachusetts: 2010—2020 9 Frontiers in Pub. Health 1, 2 (Oct. 2021).

[20] Id.

[21] Taylor, supra note 11 at 506, 511.

[22] Colleen Murphy, Congresswoman Cori Bush Shared Her Pregnancy Story — And It Highlights the Inequities of Birthing While Black, Health (May 7, 2021),; Congresswoman Cori Bush (@RepCori), Twitter (May 6, 2021, 12:05 PM),

[23] Congresswoman Cori Bush, supra note 2. 

[24] Id.

[25] Id.

[26] Id.

[27] Id.

[28] Id.

[29] Id.

[30] Id.