Teen Court gives legal experience to budding lawyers

There are two ways for a high school-age youngster to get to Teen Court. Volunteers can show up at the county courthouse week after week and participate in actual juvenile court trials as a prosecutor, defense attorney or jury member.Or you can break the law and get caught.

Michael Austin, a 17-year-old junior at Naples High School, came to Teen Court because he wanted to. Together with his co-counsels, he was acting as the public defender for a youthful defendant arrested for shoplifting from a store. The great majority of Teen Court cases involve petty theft.

The “lawyers” are not hoping to have their defendant found not guilty; there are no acquittals in Teen Court. Youthful offenders participate only if they, too, volunteer and as part of that, they must first admit to their offense. The defense hopes to minimize the crime committed and demonstrate mitigating circumstances.

“Our strategy is to make (the defendant) look good, to sell the good side of him,” Austin explained. “We want to tell what really happened.”

In a lengthy round of preliminaries, lawyers and jurors are assigned and split between two actual courtrooms, under the guidance of Teen Court Coordinator, Carol Fritsch. Defense attorneys huddle with their clients for pre-trial conferences.

The whole group of 157 youths is then brought together and instructed on proper courtroom behavior. Sgt. Julie Green, the supervisor of bailiffs at the courthouse, quickly quiets the talkative teens. She urges the volunteers to read their Teen Court handbook and to show up dressed appropriately for court. The respect she elicits from the students comes from her natural authority — and she is wearing a gun.

Actual local attorneys sit as judges for Teen Court, and decorum is observed. In Courtroom 2A, assistant public defender Ray Gudur presides.

“All rise,” says the bailiff, as the judge enters.

“Do you solemnly swear you will render a true verdict?” Gudur asks the jurors, before reading and explaining the relevant statute. In traditional juvenile court, he tells them, there is no jury. A judge renders the decision. But Teen Court exists to give young people the chance to participate in the workings of the law.

“Our goal is to educate you about how the judicial system works,” Gudur tells the group, and specifically for the defendants, “to resolve your case without going through the judicial system.”

The trial proceeds with a good deal of, “May it please the court, your honor,” and “A moment with co-counsel, your honor,” from the teenage attorneys. The defendant is cross-examined, and Austin makes an impassioned speech for leniency. When the defense and the prosecution rest, the courtroom is cleared and the jury deliberates.

The jury is made up of both Teen Court volunteers and previous defendants, who are typically sentenced to community service hours, plus evenings spent serving on a Teen Court jury.

“There are no better judges of teenage conduct than other teenagers,” said Justin Calderone, a Naples attorney serving as judge for this proceedings in Courtroom 2B. “Here, the teens are the ones that impose punishment on their fellow teens, and they bring a unique perspective.”

The kids are not inclined to go easy on their peers. This group doesn’t buy the defendant’s claim he stole the shirts in question for a friend, or that the act was spontaneous one.

“The jury is really perceptive,” said Austin. “A lot of their decision depends on the defendant’s demeanor.” He predicted that 99 percent of the defendants learn their lesson and won’t return.

In this case, overwhelming majorities — unlike typical Florida jury cases, unanimous verdicts are not required — vote for stricter penalties. The young man is sentenced to 37 hours of community service, the maximum, plus serving on two Teen Court juries, required to complete a petty theft workbook, and to write an essay on alternative thinking to avoid criminal behavior.

Teen Court, said Calderone, is great training for future attorneys. “I’ve heard from half a dozen kids how this sparked their interest in becoming a lawyer. Some of them are naturals.”

One former Naples High School student and Teen Court volunteer, Casey Jackson, is now a law student at Emory University’s top-rated law school. For her, she said, Teen Court was instrumental in considering the law as a career.

“I have friends who do this,” said Jessie Pearce, an 18-year-old home-schooled senior acting as a defense attorney. “I needed some community service hours, and once I tried it, I was hooked.”

“Teen Court is a great start,” agreed Austin. “I was scared, but now I love getting up in front of people and telling their story.”