A year ago some trainee psychologists visited a penal institution for young offenders. At first, the inmates gave the guests a cool reception: “We are not caged animals to be stared at.” But after a few hours it was hard to stem the tide of bitter life stories and reminiscences. When the psychologists were leaving, they asked the teenagers what they feared most of all. Practically everyone said, “Freedom.”
Unfortunately, there is nothing surprising about this. The problem is not so much that Ukrainian society is still unable, for a variety of reasons, to treat ex-convicts satisfactorily. When prisoners are behind bars, they lose basic skills for living in the “real world.” Psychologists claim that they lose self-sufficiency and the ability to make decisions. They are usually embittered, irritable, and aggressive. They are unable to imagine their future and are at a loss when confronted by a normal life situation. But the main problem is that 40% of convicted juveniles are deprived of social contact, and without relatives and a place to live, they often break the law again.
According to Kostiantyn Shenderovsky, director of Kyiv’s Municipal Center for Youth Social Services, often parents do not believe that their children can straighten out and prefer to forget about them altogether. For example, the mother of a Poltava boy categorically forbade her son to return to the parental home and ignored calls from social workers. The grandfather had a more “flexible” policy: he would readily speak with his grandson on the phone but refused to visit him. Sometimes during a teenager’s incarceration, his or her apartment is sold. In other cases, relatives establish a life for themselves and tell the “criminal” not to darken their doorsteps. This happened recently to a former inmate of the Pryluky penitentiary. His sister, who was against letting him back in, had to explain her behavior in court. Naturally, the court upheld her brother’s legitimate right to live in the apartment, but it is still a big question whether the court order will be enforced.
Some may say: serves them right, they committed a crime and are getting their comeuppance. Indeed, statistics show that the overwhelming majority of convicted children have committed a moderately serious crime. On the other hand, one-third of juvenile delinquents were raised by single mothers or in a boarding school. Filling out the psychologists’ questionnaires, they write (if they are at least somewhat literate) that they remember drunken brawls at home, beatings by parents, and malnutrition. Sometimes they steal to feed their family. Employees of the Youth Social Service (YSC) will never forget the questionnaire filled out by a girl who wrote, “I must be released as soon as possible because I have 12 brothers and sisters waiting for me. They will perish without me.” This is why Mr. Shenderovsky is sure that adults are primarily responsible for juvenile delinquency. “Children have fallen hostage to the changes now underway in Ukraine, and society should be aware of this,” the YSC director says.
Here’s the rub. To start with, the young offender is, as a rule, defended by an unpaid lawyer who is little interested in the result. As for the courts, they hear cases based only on the materials of the investigation, says Oleksandr Betsa, director of law programs at the Renaissance Foundation. These materials almost always characterize the teenager as a criminal. In contrast, the Western system takes an unbiased approach, with special services that carefully study the behavior and character of the defendant prior to committing the offense. The judge simultaneously receives two reports: one from the investigator and the other from the probation officer. Although Ukraine’s laws provide for a large number of non-custodial punishments, judges prefer to work as they did in the past, i.e., to throw kids behind bars even for a trivial misdeed, even though experts have documented that non-custodial treatment reduces the risk of recidivism. Even penitentiary officers have been saying that at least a third of those under their care could have been given a fine or a suspended sentence.
Judge for yourselves: today a person who steals a bag of potatoes and a murderer can end up in identical conditions behind bars. The State Department of Penitentiary Supervision is now doing its best to ensure that penal institutions carry out their reeducation function. Secondary and vocational schools have been created, interest groups are active, and local talent shows are being organized. Convicts are paid a wage for working on the camp’s farm plot, which they receive the money when they are released. But no one can stop a jailbird from “teaching” a petty thief, and it’s equally impossible to save a teenager from the psychological changes that occur behind bars.
Kyiv’s social service helps young people to fully adapt to life on the outside while they are still in prison. Social workers try to find jobs for ex-convicts, sort out problems with documents, and organize seminars for parents who are going to be taking back their “reformed” children. The teenagers are under the constant care of a psychologist. Unfortunately, not everyone understands the essence of this work. “Please tell me why, whenever there is a need to abolish something, social work is always first in line? Why doesn’t anybody understand that a teenager should be prepared for freedom while he is still behind bars? Otherwise, there is no chance for success,” Mr. Shenderovsky says heatedly. What can you say about bureaucrats, when until recently even prison wardens have been skeptical of the social service? The only thing they appreciated was the volume of humanitarian aid offered by social workers rather than their efforts to adapt every ex-convict to freedom.
It is a good thing that attitudes have somewhat changed for the better today. The results are quite obvious. For instance, out of 131 individuals with whom the social service has worked this year only one could not resist the temptation to resume stealing. The majority of social workers’ clients are now employed, have families and children to whom they show a special attitude. Ex-convicts admit that the main goal of their life is to make their “better half” and child happy. Social workers recall a very special case. A teenager who had just been released from prison was given an internal passport and he found a job. Before his first day at work his parents told him, “Nobody but your boss knows about your past. Your career will depend on how you acquit yourself.” Today, this ex-convict is pursuing a higher education and is ready to go places.
In the meantime, the social service has to work on a wing and a prayer, mainly because Ukraine lacks people who can work efficiently with so-called crisis groups. Whereas in the West social care services are expanding and strengthening, this country approved training standards for social workers only last year. Moreover, experience has shown that even those applicants who have the required education have only a superficial idea of social work. Neither are the departments with which social workers have to cooperate rushing to help them. Former convicts often go from pillar to post, as employment bureaus are in no hurry to announce vacancies. Employers try to refuse employment to ex-convicts under all kinds of pretexts. But these kinds of problems can be overcome, say social workers. All they want is for the network of such centers to be expanded, because even with an all-out effort it is unrealistic to think that all 3,200 individuals now serving prison terms can be helped. The penitentiary service is also unable to deliver the goods without outside help: can a psychologist work effectively if s/he has to service 400 people who, incidentally, wear a uniform?
