Delon Shurtz
lethbridge herald
dshurtz@lethbridgeherald.com
"John" is all too familiar with Canada's criminal justice system. He's been to court numerous times over the years on charges he'd rather not talk about, and he's spent time in jail.
Unlike most people who break the law and subsequently make their way through the court system, John doesn't always understand he's done something wrong or why he's being punished.
"Sometimes I don't really understand right away," admits John (not his real name). "Sometimes people tell me later that I'm in trouble. Sometimes I know I shouldn't do something, but I just can't, like, stop or say 'no.' "
John has FASD, Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder, a continuum of permanent birth defects which can develop when a woman drinks alcohol during pregnancy. Alcohol crosses the placental barrier and can stunt fetal growth or weight, create distinctive facial features, damage neurons and brain structures - which can result in psychological or behavioral problems - and cause other physical damage.
John knows he has FASD, and he knows it causes numerous problems and makes it difficult for him to learn and appreciate the consequences of his actions.
"I can't remember stuff. I do things that I probably shouldn't, but I don't think about it until later. I had a hard time in school and couldn't finish."
Not all sufferers of FASD break the law; many grow up with strong family support, which helps keep them on the straight and narrow. Others, however, are also victims of their environment; society lets them down and they fall through the cracks. Even the school system may fail them. Then when they do something wrong and have to go to court, the justice system fails them, as well.
"The standard, 'we're going to lock you up and you're not going to do it again,' just doesn't apply," says Sabrina Hacker, co-ordinator of the FASD Community Justice Project.
The Community Justice Project is a partnership of service providers who work together to increase awareness and management of FASD within the criminal justice system. Its purpose is to influence change in the system through mentorship, education and training about FASD and related effects.
When it comes to court, Hacker works closely with lawyers and Crown prosecutors to achieve the best outcome for someone with FASD who faces criminal charges.
"We have to first accept them for who they are," Hacker says. "They are wonderful, wonderful people."
Of course there are exceptions, like one young man who was sentenced last November to four years in jail for robbing a pizzeria. The accused entered a restaurant and, while holding an eight-inch carving knife, ordered two employees to hand over all the money in the store. He made off with $320.
Although the young man has FASD, Hacker concedes his actions demand greater consequences. But jail still isn't the best response, even though it may currently be the only answer.
"His risk to society was just too high, but he doesn't belong there. And the sad reality is, he'll come out worse."
John gets little out of court, as well, and often doesn't understand what is happening to him, or even why. He has to rely on Hacker or his lawyer to explain the process, which he says does nothing to help him deal with his disorder or prevent him from returning to court because he's broken the law again.
"I need help to stop doing drugs, and I need a place to live, and food," he says. "Court doesn't do nothing to help that."
Hacker tries to make up for what the courts lack by helping find people who can provide her clients with housing, counselling and funding. While some clients already have strong family ties and people who can help, others don't have any supports and struggle to cope with even simple aspects of life.
"Every person is so different," she says. "Some you can't tell are affected by FASD, others can't even tell time."
Hacker describes children with FASD as "10-second kids in a one-second world," because they don't see the consequences of their actions until after they've done something wrong.
"For example; if the teacher said don't throw the ball until everyone is ready, you or I will realize that if we throw the ball when the other child is not looking they may get hurt. The FASD boy does not make that connection, throws the ball, the child is hurt and only when he sees the other kid crying does he remember not to throw the ball until everyone is ready. The negative effect will then become apparent and then their brain will register the 'oops, I should not have done that.'"
Hacker points out many young people with FASD don't commit crimes, especially if they have the support of others. But supports aren't always available, especially with government cuts and poor wages keeping people out of the profession. And those who are in the profession are often so overworked they risk burnout.
Hacker points out there is hope since FASD is "100 per cent preventable. But women need to stop drinking while they're pregnant, and that may be easier said than done because alcoholics often don't want to admit they have a problem then face a judgmental society.
"We're not in any position to pass judgment."
The court system does its best to be flexible when it can, and John has been the recipient of leniency, with the help of Hacker and others interested in his welfare.
"I was going to have to go to jail, but then I went to treatment and (court duty counsel) found me a place to live and helped me get on AISH," says John. "I don't have any more charges and I have paid my fines so I don't have to go to court."
They also make sure he keeps up with his required appointments with probation and others and John tries to stay away from those he used to get in trouble with.
Like everyone else, John has dreams and goals, even if they are relatively basic.
"Just keep my place and stay away from the drugs and stuff. I don't want to go to jail again, that is where I meet guys that just want something when we get out. I could loose my place and I don't want to go back to the shelter. Being around those guys just gets me into trouble."