6 days Ago By Cloe Read
Save Log in , register or subscribe to save articles for later. Save articles for later Add articles to your saved list and come back to them any time. Got it Normal text size Larger text size Very large text size Teenagers file into rows of uncomfortable black plastic chairs.
Some are laughing and swearing. Others are quiet and pensive. Not all have their parents with them.
A boy walks through the eighth level of the Brisbane Magistrates Court with his mother, sitting down quietly before he’s asked if he has any questions about court. “Not really,” he replies. This is the first court for all young people charged by police in Brisbane.
Even those charged with murder go through here first. A girl walks in with her father, telling him she wants to sit near the hallway to see her friend when she arrives. He shakes his head in the way only a father can, and sits a row back from her.
Another boy arrives alone, takeaway in hand, dressed in a hoodie with fur. This is a quiet morning for the Children’s Court. A group of girls are appearing before Magistrate Megan Power, accused of stealing alcohol from a Toowong Vintage Cellars bottle shop.
Advertisement The prosecutor explains that the first girl entered the store with the others, took alcohol off the shelves, and didn’t pay. The defendant sits quietly at the bar table beside her lawyer: an ordinary girl, hair tied back in a low ponytail, wearing a white T-shirt. Every time you come here, you’re taking another step on the wrong path.
Magistrate Megan Power But her lawyer says she has had significant issues. Now aged 14, she’s been to 12 primary schools, and three high schools. Domestic violence between her parents made life at home difficult.
The tone of the court shifts. It hears that her mother had to move repeatedly to escape the violence. The girl sits just an arm’s length from the defendant dock.
Behind it, there’s a doorway for officers to move prisoners from the court to their cells. Power is gentle but firm, telling the girl nothing is made better by the thrill of alcohol. Advertisement “Nothing good happens in these buildings, courtrooms, courthouses,” she says.
“And every time you come here, you’re taking another step on the wrong path. “You’ve already had so much to deal with, changing schools ..
. and being exposed to domestic violence – that is horrible.” The charge is dismissed as a caution.
Some kids arrive at court with their parents; some see friends in the waiting room. Others come on their own. Credit: Matt Davidson The boy and his mother from the waiting room are here for another case.
The mother sits behind him, this time, and he sits at the bar. Power hears that the 16-year-old was picked up at Fortitude Valley during police wanding for weapons, and charged for possessing a knife. The prosecutor describes it as a “metal stick”; his lawyer says it was a “pimple popper”.
“He was saying he had it for protection,” his lawyer adds. About the time his client was wanded, there were reports of a stabbing in Fortitude Valley. Advertisement The boy hasn’t been to school since last year, but wants to work in hospitality.
He’s also been affected by his father’s death a few years ago. Power refers the teenager to restorative justice conferencing, taking into account his guilty plea, and that he was honest with police. “What is equally as important is that you realise the more knives in the community, the more risk there is,” she says.
The boy is one of many young people found in recent months to be carrying a weapon. Police recently expanded their wanding powers from transport hubs to include shopping centres and other venues in a bid to reduce knife crime. In recent years, the stabbings – most of them fatal – of Vyleen White , Emma Lovell , Jack Beasley , Angus Beaumont , Toutai Kefu and others remain at the forefront of public attention.
Those attacks, each committed by juvenile offenders, prompted the then-Labor government to quickly announce a 10-point youth crime plan – a strategy rejected by experts as kneejerk. The legislative changes included removing the requirement for police to consider alternatives to arresting a child and expanding breach offence provisions. Advertisement “Although the legislation has been in force for a short period of time, this seems to have resulted in an increase in the number of children in detention on remand,” Children’s Court president Deborah Richards wrote in her 2022-23 report.
“It has not, as yet, resulted in a decrease in offending.” The girl we saw in the waiting room walks in with her dad. She’s wearing a Calvin Klein T-shirt, and spins slightly in her chair beside the lawyer.
She used to be involved in music and sport, but has stopped since moving schools and hanging out with a “not-so-great crowd”. She was in the same group of girls caught stealing alcohol as the 14-year-old who was cautioned earlier. But the court hears this teenager spent about an hour in a cell while she waited for her parents.
“We accept people make mistakes, we don’t write them off, we give them another chance,” Power says, confirming a caution is appropriate. “But be aware that those chances are potentially running out. And you’ll go down that side door and down to literally a dungeon in the bottom of this court.
” Another girl, 13, walks in, and Power calls her mother to be on the phone for support. Advertisement Ring, ring, ring. The girl looks at the defendant dock to her left.
The phone keeps ringing. No answer. One can’t help but feel uncomfortable at the enormity of it all, the desperate need for your mother to pick up.
“The person you are calling is unavailable,” the court speakers blast through the dark room. The girl looks up hesitantly. “If you call her one more time, she’ll probably answer.
” “People don’t come here for happy reasons ...
you need to not be a part of that,” the magistrate told one young defendant. Credit: Matt Davidson But there’s no answer. The court decides to hear the matter later.
When they finally reach the mother, the court hears the girl, one of eight children, has already had several cautions. In this instance, she’s given another caution. “People don’t come here for happy reasons.
And sometimes people don’t get to leave in the way they want to,” Power says. “If you continue to come before the court in the future, you’ll be going out the side door there and down into the cells, taken on a truck to a detention centre, or if you’re an adult, to a prison. “This building, this entire block of the city is devoted to people in the legal system.
You need to not be a part of that.” On the day these cases were heard, Brisbane Times told the prosecution and the magistrate about this article upon entering the court. On other occasions, including a serious assault case, magistrates removed us from the room.
The state’s new LNP premier David Crisafulli staked his campaign on tackling youth crime . He has emphasised the need for early intervention and rehabilitation, adding that the situation of children being held in “watch houses for indefinite periods of time doesn’t have to continue”. He’s also spoken about wanting to open up the courts.
The laws that passed parliament this week will do just that. In a recent interview with A Current Affair , Crisafulli said murder, manslaughter, unlawful wounding, car theft and home break-ins were five crimes that had ripped the heart and soul out of Queensland. “No one is suggesting a young person’s name should be out there,” he said.
“But if Queenslanders want to see success they have to have the courts open.” Children in custody are particularly vulnerable 26 per cent have a current child protection order in place 44 per cent were living in unstable or unsuitable accommodation 28 per cent have been diagnosed with ADHD 18 per cent have a cognitive or intellectual disability 17 per cent have PTSD 5 per cent have autism spectrum disorder 4 per cent have a psychotic disorder Source: Safety Through Support report, University of Queensland, 2023 University of Queensland law professor Tamara Walsh says children’s courts should instead focus on having access to support workers, and making sure children aren’t detained simply because there’s no home for them to return to. “That happens all the time.
” She relates horrific stories of children held for weeks in watch houses. More often than not, when they finally get before a court, they’re released. “So what was the point? We’ve completely traumatised these kids in these horrifically harsh environments.
” Walsh says opening the courts will mean children will be unlikely to disclose information about their vulnerable home lives. She would prefer Queensland to follow the UK, where many youth courts have been closed. “They’re responding in a non-legal, restorative way.
That’s worked really well and has saved them a lot of money and has brought about better outcomes,” she says. Queensland Law Society president and criminal lawyer Rebecca Fogerty says decades of research has shown the way to address youth crime is to go to the roots: ensuring children have safe homes, and adults in their lives who can protect them. Like Walsh, she believes that opening courts further, and frequent media reporting on youth crime, do nothing to help rehabilitation or reduce the crime rate.
“The use of silly slogans like ‘adult crime, adult time’ just make a mockery of what is a very serious community problem,” Fogerty says. Instead, she wants the criminal justice system adequately resourced, accountability at state and federal levels, and a more co-ordinated approach. “For the last five years or so we’ve seen extraordinary funding in areas of domestic violence to protect women,” she says.
“Let’s include children in that so we can start to protect them.” Start the day with a summary of the day’s most important and interesting stories, analysis and insights. Sign up for our Morning Edition newsletter .
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