Juvenile Hall serves tough love to county youthOutdated Hillcrest facility bursting at the seams with young offenders

And their magazines have pages torn out to censor any sexually explicit photos or articles, or anything that could be construed as gang related. Lunch -- a cupful of ravioli, two slices of white bread, an orange, and a pint of milk -- is the same for everybody, even the fussy eater.

"Unfortunately it's part of the consequences of playing the whole game," said Kevin Wright, a 13-year staff member and currently an institute service manager for juvenile hall. "If you want to break the rules, you give up certain rights."

"The thing is, we're not forcing them in here. Hopefully we can change their minds while they're in here. Hopefully we can have them come in here and deny them little luxuries, and they'll say, 'That's not where I want to be.'"

This is Hillcrest Juvenile Hall, a 161-bed facility on Tower Road in unincorporated San Mateo County, as far away as some of the children can imagine from the inner-city streets of East Palo Alto or the suburban tract homes of Foster City.

The facility draws children from all over the county who commit crimes that range from petty thefts to violent assaults. About 70 percent of the children deal with substance abuse or mental health problems, county corrections officials say.

Their ages range from as young as nine to as old as 18, although some continue to serve out sentences for a few years after they come of age. Children are separated by age, size and gender into different units.

Anyone who resides or works here can explain that the facility is anything but adequate. The time-worn 45-year-old building has outlived its usefulness, both in size and purpose.

County officials are planning the $50 million construction of a new set of buildings, which they are calling a "juvenile campus," that will expand the bed capacity and bring social services -- like medical and mental-health treatment and substance-abuse programs -- on site.

"That's just what we're trying to do, is look at the type of services we can provide in a new way. We're going to try to identify very early and work very collaboratively. It's less about just a building -- it really addresses needs in a much more effective manner," said Jim Nordman, director of Hillcrest.

For several more years, however, children and staff will have to make do with what they have.

Many of the children at Hillcrest know the weekend routine very well -- they've been there a number of times before. Some come every weekend, booking in after school on Friday and sleeping with dozens of others on trundle-like beds in makeshift dining rooms in full view of anyone who passes.

These are the children who have court-ordered visits to Hillcrest as part of their probation. And there are so many of them on the weekends that the facility bursts with the extra bodies.

This weekend the count was at 181, about twenty more than the facility's capacity. And that number is less than it was several months ago when the count reached 250 on some weekends.

That was before a concerted effort was made at juvenile court to find other ways of disciplining children who violate parole or commit minor offenses. But the court still views a sentence at Hillcrest to be the best way to deal with the hundreds of children convicted of crimes.

And it's not a pleasant place. Although windows face out to gorgeous views of open fields and the Crystal Springs Reservoir, the children remain for weeks on end inside, with limited outdoor recreation in fenced-in areas. Older boys and violent offenders can only play outside on a half-sized basketball court.

And inside, recreation involves reading books or magazines, playing board games and the Friday night PG-rated movie -- during which they may occasionally get popcorn.

There are few things to stimulate the senses inside. The bright flashing color television offers the only relief from the muted colors and bare cream-colored walls.

In some of the hallways leading into the housing units, children have brightened the walls with murals -- C unit has a lunar Star Wars landscape with a signpost outside the door that reads, "May the force be with you."

And another hallway brings the viewer into the world of ancient Egypt with giant sphinx faces and a magic Genie -- modeled after one of the well-liked group supervisors -- emerging from a bottle.

But the children are not allowed to express themselves in color. For security reasons and fear of showing gang affiliations, staffers strip children of all their personal clothing as they enter the facility and issue them shapeless muted-color garments that correspond to their unit. Hair scrunchies from home are allowed, but they have to be black or white.

And they have a new policy -- no shoes from home.

"Before we would allow only black or white shoes. We were having too much of a problem with it because sometimes things were slipping by. Minors were putting dots on shoes or writing on shoes and trying to affiliate," said Wright.

Above the doors to the holding cells for violent offenders the words "The Silencer" are written on a white banner. Silence is the predominant sound throughout most of the facility.

Down the long hallways, children walk with only the patter of their shoes revealing their presence. Out of the earshot of staff, children are not allowed to talk in the bathrooms or showers.

Sometimes the staff plays mellow rhythm and blues or old love ballads while the children clean up before bedtime, or when things get stressful.

"When the tension is really high, if you play some mellow music they seem to be okay," Wright said.

But no rap or heavy rock, he added -- "You don't want them pumped up."

The staff says all the restrictions placed on the children have a purpose. Rules mean consistency, and consistency brings stability -- something that these children really need, said Wright.

And the staff has an important role to play in making sure that the rules are followed.

"You want to try to be a positive role model -- show them that they have to follow rules, provide consistency and stability," said Wright. "It shows them that you're going to follow through and you're not just talking. Otherwise you're just like every other adult they can't trust."

And although the majority of the time children come back again for a new offense, Wright said that sometimes he reaches a few.

"There was a minor in here for a long time, a hard-core gang member," he said. "I used to stay on him all of the time. I let him know that he had to follow the rules. The guy wrote me -- he was out and doing well, and said he appreciated what I had done."

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