The Arc

  As problem-solving innovation becomes more integrated into the way courts do business, law schools are beginning to offer courses examining problem-solving principles and practices. The Conference of Chief Justices and the Conference of State Court Administrators, among others, have urged law schools to include the principles and methods of problem-solving courts in their curricula. In a parallel development, Harvard Law School recently reformed its first-year curriculum to include a new course, “Problems and Theories,” that will focus on teaching students basic problem-solving skills. A recent article in the Washington University Journal of Law and Policy entitled "Lawyering and Learning in Problem-Solving Courts" makes the case for greater engagement between law school clinics and problem-solving courts.  Given the recent interest in problem solving and academia, this article seeks to provide a short overview of current law school classes that touch on topics of problem-solving justice. Courses and clinics are organized into five basic categories: problem-solving courts, community prosecution, restorative justice, problem-solving lawyering, and therapeutic jurisprudence. The list was compiled with the help of Michael Cobden, based on interviews and web searches. It is not intended to be exhaustive or definitive. Rather, it seeks to provide a snapshot of a rapidly developing field by highlighting courses from law schools around the country. Note that this overview is limited to law school classes and does not include courses on problem solving at graduate schools in other disciplines (e.g., criminology, public policy, social work). Problem-Solving Courts In recent years, proponents of problem-solving courts have sought to introduce drug courts, community courts, and other new approaches to justice into law schools. Often this takes the form of a single guest lecture as part of a larger course on a related topic. In addition to these ad-hoc efforts, several more law schools have recently piloted full-semester classes devoted to problem-solving justice. Fordham University School of Law Course: Problem Solving Justice: Courts as Agents of Social Change Professors: Patricia Henry, Susan Knipps, Valerie Raine Fordham has piloted a syllabus created by the Center for Court Innovation with the help of a panel of academic advisors. The course begins with a look at the conventional approach to case processing and offers a history of problem-solving courts, focusing on drug courts, community courts, mental health courts, and domestic violence courts. Guest speakers and site visits are a part of the course. Brooklyn Law School Course: Problem-Solving Justice Professor: Anne J. Swern This course, taught by an adjunct lecturer from the Brooklyn D.A.’s office, covers the history of the problem-solving court movement and addresses the role these new courts play within the larger justice system. Concerns about how courts should treat issues like drug addiction are introduced and discussed. Visits to both traditional and innovative courts are part of the course. State University of New York: Buffalo Course: A Critical Look at Therapeutic Courts: Drug Treatment, Domestic Violence, Mental Health and Gambling Courts Professors: Mark Violante, Mark Farrell This course is taught by two judges and involves extensive site visits. During visits to court, students attend case conferences and “shadow” court staff including district attorneys, defense attorneys, and judges. Students are required to write a 20-page paper about any aspect of a problem-solving court they have learned about during the semester. Columbia University  Program Title: Center on Crime, Community and Law Course: Pro-seminar on Problem-solving Courts Professors: Jeffrey Fagan, Michael Dorf This Columbia pro-seminar changes subject each year. The 2003 pro-seminar focused on community justice centers and community prosecution. The course began with readings on the theoretical basis for the courts before moving on to empirical research. This pro-seminar culminated in a research paper which was defended by each student author in a final symposium. William and Mary School of Law Course: Problem-Solving Courts Professor: Gregory Baker According to Professor Gregory Baker, there are plans to create a new course which would supplement the developing Therapeutic Jurisprudence Program (see below).  Community Prosecution Community prosecution—a new approach to law enforcement that emphasizes neighborhood knowledge and creative, non-prosecutorial approaches to public safety problems—is being taught in a couple of law school clinics. Brooklyn Law School  Course: Prosecutors Clinic Professor: Lisa Smith and Anne J. Swern In the Brooklyn program, third-year students work alongside community prosecutors from the Kings County D.A.’s office in a clinical setting. Students are encouraged to become familiar with the community itself as they learn about specific neighborhood problems. University of Maryland School of Law Course: Community Justice Clinic, Community Law in Action Clinic Professor: Brenda Bratton Blom, Terry Hickey The Community Justice Clinic has five components in which students may participate: community prosecution, community justice council, school conflict resolution, youth advocacy/law/leadership and business development. The community prosecution component allows students to design, operate and evaluate a community prosecution project with help from faculty and the Baltimore City State’s Attorney's Office. The community justice council is a group which consists of community leaders, law enforcement, prosecutors, defenders, law students and clergy who create and evaluate offender rehabilitation programs. New York University School of Law Course: Criminal and Community Defense Clinic Professors: Kim Taylor-Thompson and Anthony Thompson The Criminal and Community Defense Clinic offers students to explore the variety of ways that defender offices can be more grounded in the communities from which their clients come and to which they return. Students work with defenders at the Neighborhood Defenders Service of Harlem and also with community advocacy groups in addressing broader issues that affect communities of individuals charged with crime. Restorative Justice Several law schools have restorative justice programs or courses that focus on efforts to promote alternative approaches to disputes that bring together victims and offenders. What follows are selected examples. University of Wisconsin Law School  Program Title: Frank J. Remington Center Course: Restorative Justice Project Professors: Leslie Shear, Pete DeWind This clinical program is open to 12 second and third-year law students and is divided into two parts: Family Law Project and Restorative Justice Project. The Restorative Justice Project facilitates meetings between incarcerated felons and victims. The project seeks to teach students a non-adversarial approach to criminal justice issues. Marquette University Law School  Course Titles: Restorative Justice; Restorative Justice Initiative Clinic Professors: Janine Geske The course teaches restorative justice in both American and international settings, including victim/offender and victim/family conferencing, victim impact panels and Native American Circles. The course also explores constitutional problems related to restorative justice. Pepperdine University School of Law  Course: Restorative Justice Professor: Daniel Van Ness  This course explores the restorative justice movement, a systematic approach to criminal justice that emphasizes repairing harm caused or revealed by criminal behavior. Restorative justice incorporates aspects of alternative dispute resolution and civil law into criminal matters in furtherance of its overarching goals of healing and reconciliation. The course considers where the movement originated, how it has developed in the past twenty years, the opportunities and challenges it confronts, and specific ways in which it can be woven into and implemented as part of the criminal process. Georgetown Law Course: Restorative Justice In International Human Rights: A New Paradigm Professor: Lynn Fraser This is an LL.M. seminar offered on international human rights and restorative justice that teaches the basics of the restorative justice theory before applying it to the international issues. New York University School of Law Course: Retribution in Criminal Law Theory & Practice Seminar Professor: James Frederick Gilligan and David A.J. Richards This course discusses the role retribution should play in criminal justice. Topics discussed will include the philosophy of retributive justice and social justice in a democracy, the psychology of violence (rooted in patriarchal emotions of humiliation and shame, suppressing the moral emotion of guilt), the historical roots of American retributivism (including mass incarceration and the death penalty), and alternatives to retributive justice (including therapeutic and restorative justice). The seminar includes in its pedagogy experiments in freeing creative voice through weekly writing and theatre exercises and includes a close study of philosophy, history, psychoanalysis, novels, and plays. Problem-Solving Lawyering and Alternative Dispute Resolution In October 2006, the Harvard Law School revised its first-year curriculum to include a new course, “Problem Solving Workshop,” that will engage students in working on complex, multi-faceted problems involving diverse areas of law. Other schools that offer at least a course or two which teach general problem-solving lawyer skills include Stanford, UCLA and New York Law School. California Western University has taken the idea further by creating an entire curriculum and concentration called “Creative Problem-Solving.” The curriculum has three core courses: Problem-solving & Preventive Law; Cross-cultural Problem Identification and Problem Solving Skills & Theory. Georgetown Law School has a special program on “Conflict Resolution and Legal Problem Solving” led by Carrie Minkel Meadow that focuses on mediation and other forms of alternative dispute resolution. Like Georgetown, many law schools have classes in Alternative Dispute Resolution. Indeed, the Association of American Law Schools, the principal association of law professors, has a special section devoted to Alternative Dispute Resolution. Florida Coastal School of Law Course: Comprehensive Law Practice Professor: Susan Daicoff This course is limited to 30 students and has been offered during spring semesters since 2000. The official description says that the course is evenly divided between theory and skill development. Most of the course covers mediation and general lawyer skills from the perspective of law as a healing profession. One week is devoted to problem-solving courts. University of Baltimore School of Law  Course: Center for Families, Children and the Courts’ Student Fellows Program Professor: Barbara A. Babb The fellowship program has a limited enrollment of six students. The program consists of weekly two-hour seminars and weekly one-hour supervisory meetings. About eight or nine class sessions (out of sixteen) are devoted to problem-solving courts, teen courts, drug courts and family courts. Students participate in research projects for the Center. Therapeutic Jurisprudence Proponents of therapeutic jurisprudence, most notably Professors Bruce Winick and David Wexler, argue that therapeutic jurisprudence—the study of the therapeutic (and anti-therapeutic) impacts of legal decisions and actions—can apply to all areas of legal practice. Many of the courses listed below have posted syllabi on the website for the International Network on Therapeutic Jurisprudence maintained by the University of Arizona. William and Mary School of Law  Course Title: Therapeutic Jurisprudence Professor: Gregory Baker Students spend most of their time working in either a drug court or mental health court. This work commonly involves being a “therapeutic court law clerk,” researching constitutional and other legal issues and writing legal memoranda for the judge. There is also a community service component that requires students to provide some non-legal service to either the court or to the local community. University of Miami School of Law  Course Titles: New Directions in Lawyering: Interviewing, Counseling, & Attorney/Client Relational Skills; Therapeutic Jurisprudence Seminar; Therapeutic Courts Externship Professors: Bruce Winick, Bernard P. Perlmutter, Jennifer Zawid The first course focuses is on preventive lawyering, holistic representation and civil matters. Students are assigned a variety of readings including articles profiling attorneys who utilize therapeutic methods in their practice. Traditional cases are re-examined with an eye towards how they might have been handled differently from a preventive or holistic perspective. Students engage in mock interviews and role-playing exercises, some of which are based on real case files and some of which are scripted. Outside speakers from other departments in the University of Miami inform the class of other disciplines and how they might contribute to the understanding of the client’s perspective. In the final phase of this course, students conduct supervised interviews of clients who are in the custody of a juvenile detention facility and prepare memoranda which are shared with the public defender’s office. The second course focuses on studying and attempting to reform substantive legal rules and legal procedures. Students will prepare a 30-40 page paper on a therapeutic jurisprudence topic or theme and will have the opportunity to participate in research or law reform activities conducted by the Therapeutic Jurisprudence Center. University of Puerto Rico Courses: Therapeutic Jurisprudence; Therapeutic Jurisprudence and New Directions in Criminal Lawyering; Interdisciplinary Collaboration in Therapeutic Jurisprudence; and Sentencing and Corrections from a Therapeutic Jurisprudence Perspective Professor: David Wexler Professor Wexler is a Professor of Law at the University of Puerto Rico in San Juan, Puerto Rico, a Distinguished Research Professor of Law at the James E. Rogers College of Law, Tucson, Arizona, and the Director of the International Network on Therapeutic Jurisprudence. Touro Law Center  Course: Selected Topics in Professional Responsibility: Lawyering as a Happy, Healthy, Healing and Ethical Profession Professor: Marjorie A. Silver According to the course description, this course is geared toward students who are already experiencing disillusionment about their chosen profession. The course addresses the emotional and mental strain on lawyers as much as on litigants. Problem-solving courts and restorative justice are presented as areas of practice that might avoid the ethical and emotional difficulties of working in a traditional legal career. New York Law School Course: Therapeutic Jurisprudence  Professor: Deborah Dorfman This course focuses on mentally disabled individuals who are litigants or are the subject of litigation. It is a predominantly on-line course, requiring students to participate in a weekly chat room, discussion board, and two, day-long weekend live seminars at New York Law School. University of Connecticut Law School  Course: Therapeutic Jurisprudence Professor: Robert G. Madden This is a seminar covering a wide range of theory and skill development. One class session is titled “Specialized Courts: Applied Therapeutic Jurisprudence.” Three other sessions deal with Domestic Violence, Juvenile Justice, Drug Courts and Criminal Courts. Mercer University School of Law  Course: Therapeutic Jurisprudence Professor: Bonnie Cole  The course covers the psychology of law and the psychological well-being of practitioners. Other topics include comprehensive law, holistic lawyering and collaborative law.

For courts with limited resources that are interested in problem-solving, Buffalo (N.Y.) City Court offers an intriguing model. With no extra funds, in 1995 the court began to identify defendants’ social problems and link them to needed services. Today, Buffalo’s innovative C.O.U.R.T.S. (Court Outreach Unit: Referral and Treatment Services) program links together more than 130 community-based providers and makes more than 6,000 referrals a year.   The program, a collaborative effort of Buffalo City Court and the City of Buffalo, provides judges with an on-site court-based screening and referral service. “We’re basically a treatment and communication broker for the court. And you name it, we got it. We basically can meet any need of a person who comes through the doors,” Director Hank Pirowski says. The program links individuals coming through the justice system with a full range of social services, including drug treatment, mental health treatment, medical care, anger management, family counseling, youth counseling, domestic violence and battering programming, vocational/educational services, and housing. The idea for the program came about in 1994, when the Hon. Thomas Amodeo became chief judge for the Buffalo City Court. Frustrated by the haphazard way defendants were being placed into treatment, the lack of a centralized tracking system for the court, and increased recidivism rates driven in part by the crack epidemic, he started talking to court staff and city officials about new ways of doing business. According to Amodeo, the court had two major problems: first, reports weren’t coming back to the judge, and second, the court needed a regimented screening system to ensure that everyone who needed treatment received it. Treatment provider Hank Pirowski spearheaded a study of how the court could best link clients to services. “That’s when we came up with this idea, to get all our partnering agencies involved,” Pirowski says. The court then called together a meeting with over 60 area providers to get them on board, explaining the concept for the program and convincing providers that if they would co-locate staff members in space provided by the court, defendants would have easier access to their treatment systems. “On the staffing side we started the program with no dollars,” Pirowski says. “Zero. I was given a closet in the courthouse that still had wash basins in it. But the city gave me a team of six people, two from the Division of Substance Abuse Services and four from the Division for Youth, and my partnering agencies donated staff at no additional cost to the court.” Today there are 26 full- and part-time workers on site, only four of them from the Office of Court Administration. “Without the community partnership, we wouldn’t exist,” says Pirowski, who also helps oversee Buffalo’s drug court and mental health court. C.O.U.R.T.S. staff interview defendants while in custody, relaying the information to court advocates, who make recommendations to judges. The judges make the final call on whether a defendant is appropriate for C.O.U.R.T.S. or not. Defendants referred to the program are placed with a participating member of the treatment consortium. Placement is based not on which agency performed the assessment but on the defendant’s individual needs, geographical location and ability to pay. No one is allowed to refer defendants to his or her own agency, though the judge may approve such a placement if it is clearly the best choice for the defendant. Managed care partners are on site to make the process run more smoothly. And once defendants are placed, case managers monitor defendants’ compliance with tailored, individual service plans, and report treatment outcomes to the judge. By the summer of 2006 the C.O.UR.T.S. program had made over 40,000 referrals, and was referring 6,000 cases to social service providers each year. From 2000 to 2005, defendants completed over 75,500 hours of community service, including graffiti removal and demolition of crack houses. The value of labor contributed to the community during that time was estimated to be $453,000. The program has received the New York State Bar Association Public Service Award for the Furtherance of Justice and the U.S. Conference of Mayors’ City Livability Award.

  During spring and summer 2004, focus groups were conducted among the participants and court staff in three New York State drug courts. The research was designed to provide feedback about drug court operations and to assist programs by examining the extent to which participants and staff hold comparable views about various aspects of the drug court experience. In other words, do drug court participants and court staff see eye-to-eye? At each court, participant sessions were followed by focus groups and interviews among court staff. Participants and staff discussed a variety of topics: why participants enter and remain in drug court, views about the drug court program and staff, which components of be the program are more and less effective, the courtroom experience, and suggestions to improve the program. Motivating the project was a recognition that drug courts are likely to be most effective when those operating programs are fully cognizant of the attitudes and experiences of program participants. Drug court staff and participants will, of course, have areas of agreement and disagreement. But it is crucial for staff to be aware of how their perceptions and attitudes might differ from participants’ so that they can most effectively manage those differences, deliver the drug court intervention, and identify areas for continuous improvement. To ensure the anonymity of research participants, the drug courts are not individually identified in the report, which can be read in its entirety here. The report focuses on common themes and findings that emerged across sites. Key Findings Drug court participants and court staff generally do see eye-to-eye. In all three courts, staff were remarkably cognizant about why participants enter drug court, what they do and do not like about it, and what motivates them to remain clean and in the program. The research also made clear that these courts, to varying degrees, regularly elicit feedback from program participants and take that feedback into account when shaping policies and procedures. Staff members’ knowledge of and concern for the participant perspective likely explains in part participants’ positive impressions of the staff. More detailed findings are below.   Participants enter drug court primarily to avoid prison, not to enter treatment and get off drugs. Although some said that their opportunity to enter drug court happened at the “right time” when they wanted to enter treatment, the overwhelming majority of participants acknowledged that they entered drug court mainly to avoid going to prison. Most also felt that, although the program is nominally voluntary, they had little choice but to enter drug court—prison is viewed as an unattractive alternative. Many participants did concede that their motivation changed after being in the program for some time, and they became more concerned about completing treatment, staying clean, and improving their lives. Many participants do not fully appreciate what they are agreeing to when they enter drug court. Most drug court participants reported that the rules and expectations of drug court were explained to them, but it was not until they spent some time in the program and began treatment that they fully understood what they had gotten into—intensive supervision and monitoring. Drug court staff members were aware of this, and reported that they make numerous attempts to make it clear to participants what they are agreeing to at program entry. They were also aware that participants are likely to be resistant early on and that it takes time for them to adjust to the program. Most participants believe the rules of drug court are fair. Most participants reported that the rules of drug court are fair and felt that they are treated fairly by the treatment court team. They spoke particularly favorably about how the judge and others take participants’ “personal situations” into account when making decisions such as sanctions and phase advancement. This knowledge about participants’ lives, and capacity to use it to craft personalized responses, appears to add to drug court participants’ perceptions of procedural justice. Defense attorneys were not perceived as important to drug court. Many participants complained about what they felt was their defense attorneys’ lack of involvement in their case. Once again, staff members appeared aware of these concerns. Some seemed to agree that, at least after the participant enters drug court, defense attorneys are not critical to the program. Others, however, pointed out that defense attorneys have a role but that it is largely behind the scenes—in team meetings rather than open court. Drug court participants, therefore, generally do not see the work their counsel does for them, according to this argument. The judge is a critical component of the drug court treatment model. Both participants and staff had largely positive views about the judge in their court. While appearing before the judge can be daunting, particularly for those called up on an infraction, most participants acknowledged that the judge was fair, sympathetic, and supportive, and that having to appear before the judge helped them stick to their treatment plan. Heightened monitoring, drug testing, and the threat of prison are key motivators to remain clean and in the program. The threat of going to prison for failing the drug court program has a clear and powerful effect on virtually all drug court participants. Participants clearly feared incarceration and would go to great lengths to avoid it. Just as most participants entered drug court to avoid prison, so too the prospect of incarceration is a powerful motivator to keep them in the program. Participants also cited heightened monitoring, especially frequent drug testing, as a critical component of drug court. They differentiated drug court from previous court experiences where there was little monitoring and, thus, their continued drug use went undiscovered. The courtroom experience is critical to drug court participants. Drug court participants clearly personalized the experience of appearing before and speaking to the judge in court; it appears to have a powerful effect. Participants spoke about being very nervous before court appearances, particularly when they anticipated sanction or reprimand and also about the sense of satisfaction when they received positive feedback from the judge. Sitting in court and seeing other cases also appears to be effective. Participants were surprisingly cognizant that this “audience effect” is intentional and most agreed that seeing others receive praise and sanctions (particularly the latter) sends the message that “it could be me” and helps to keep them clean. Treatment programs were the subject of frequent complaint. In all focus groups, criticism focused on a variety of complaints about treatment programs. Participants voiced concern about the length of treatment, classes they felt were inappropriate for them, scheduling issues, and required treatment fees. Staff discussed the lack of certified treatment providers in their communities, particularly those offering programs for specialized populations, as well as the drug court’s limited ability to hold providers accountable. Suggestions to Improve Drug Courts The focus groups also produced a number of thoughtful suggestions from participants and staff about ways to improve their drug court programs. Participants recommended expanding the court in different ways—e.g., having more treatment providers work with the court and providing flexible scheduling of classes; enhancing access to education, employment, job training, and other services; and reimbursing for travel so participants can more easily travel between court and treatment and home. Drug court staff echoed many of these concerns, and offered other suggestions not raised by participants, including the need for more treatment services for women, non-English speakers and the dually diagnosed; more training in addiction issues for judges, attorneys, and other legal staff who work with drug courts (as well as those in other court settings); and more widely available methadone treatment.

Should problem solving be encouraged in general courts? Some may object that elements of the problem solving court model are inconsistent with conventional court processes. There are also unresolved questions. What this research project makes clear, however, is that the potential exists for problem solving to be practiced both in specialized and conventional court settings. In recent years, an array of innovative courts has emerged throughout the country in an effort to address the underlying problems of defendants, victims and communities. Adult drug courts, which seek to break the cycle of addiction, crime, and repeat incarceration by mandating addicted defendants to treatment, were the first such innovation. The first drug court opened in Dade County, Florida in 1989; since then, more than a thousand others have opened. Analogous models have also arisen, including family and juvenile drug courts, domestic violence courts, community courts, and mental health courts. These “problem-solving” courts all attempt to use the authority of the judiciary in new ways and are characterized by a number of unique elements: a problem-solving focus; team approach to decision-making; referrals to treatment and other social services; ongoing judicial monitoring; direct interaction between litigants and judge; community outreach; and a proactive role for the judge inside and outside of the courtroom.As the first generation of drug courts has been proven effective and received public attention and support, several states have begun efforts to institutionalize—or take to scale—problem-solving innovation throughout their court systems. For example, under the leadership of Chief Judge Judith S. Kaye, New York State has implemented adult drug courts in every New York county and has plans for implementing an “integrated” criminal/family domestic violence court in all counties by 2007.In addition to replicating problem-solving courts, a growing number of policymakers have expressed an interest in the application of problem-solving court practices outside the specialized court setting. Among those interested are the Conference of Chief Justices and the Conference of State Court Administrators, who advocated, where appropriate, the broad integration over the next decade of the principles and methods of problem solving courts into the administration of justice to improve court processes and outcomes while preserving the rule of law, and meeting the needs and expectations of litigants, victims, and the community. In an effort to aid this process, the California Administrative Office of the Courts, in collaboration with the Center for Court Innovation in New York, recently conducted research to explore how court systems might integrate problem-solving court practices into conventional court operations. Focus groups were conducted with problem-solving court judges in California and New York, two states at the forefront of testing new problem-solving models. The discussions were wide-ranging but focused on which problem-solving court practices are most easily applied in conventional courts, barriers to the more widespread adoption of problem solving, and strategies to overcome these barriers. The participating judges were cautiously optimistic, identifying many opportunities to practice problem solving in mainstream courts, while raising numerous barriers as well. Which Problem Solving Practices Can Be Integrated throughout Conventional Courts?Focus group participants identified a number of practices they felt could be effectively applied in conventional courts, including: Problem-Solving Orientation. Participants felt that judges in a variety of criminal and civil court settings could be more proactive—asking more questions, reaching out to service providers, and generally seeking more information about each case. Using that information, they could craft more individualized and at times unconventional court orders. Interaction with Defendants/Litigants. Focus group participants considered direct engagement with defendants to be one of the easiest practices to apply in conventional courts, perhaps because it requires no additional resources. Concerns were raised that, in criminal cases, defense attorneys might prevent such interaction for fear that clients might incriminate themselves. But several judges reported that they routinely address defendants directly, with few objections from the defense bar. Treatment and Social Service Integration. Participants identified opportunities to integrate social service mandates (drug treatment, job training, anger management, etc.) into more areas of the conventional court process. At the same time, there was a recognition of the need for increased access to, and coordination of, services. Judicial Supervision. Requiring defendants to report back to court to discuss progress with court mandates was identified by participants as one of the most effective practices that could be applied in conventional criminal courts. While acknowledging the limited time available, many judges said that they have integrated ongoing supervision into their conventional court practice. Team-Based, Non-Adversarial Approach. There was less agreement about whether it is feasible or appropriate to lessen the adversarial nature of the conventional court process. But many judges felt that there were opportunities to craft resolutions agreeable to all parties, particularly in juvenile and family law settings, which already foster such an approach. Participants cautioned that a non-adversarial approach cannot be imposed by the judge alone but is contingent on the willingness of attorneys. They emphasized that defense attorneys in particular must come to trust that the judge will not allow such a team approach to compromise the defendant’s interests. What Are the Barriers and How Might They Be Overcome?Focus group participants identified two key categories of impediments to the practice of problem solving in conventional courts. The first and most significant is limited time and resources. Judges, particularly those in higher-volume jurisdictions, emphasized that they had little time for individualized attention to cases and for ongoing supervision, citing pressures to “move cases along.” Participants also noted that conventional courts lack the technology, case management staff, and other resources that help make specialized problem-solving courts effective.Could these resource-related barriers be overcome? Some participants were pessimistic, but several strategies did emerge from the discussion. For example, judges might adopt a “triage” approach, selecting only the most appropriate cases for increased attention and ongoing judicial supervision. Also discussed were longer-term, more systemic (and costly) solutions such as establishing court-wide screening, assessment and case management systems, sharing specialized problem-solving courts’ case management resources with other courts, and developing directories of community-based service providers to inform all judges about available programs.The second key barrier is conflicting philosophies. Many focus group participants felt that judges with a “traditional” role orientation (“deciding cases,” not “solving problems”) are unlikely to embrace problem solving. Others disagreed, arguing that problem solving is a “learned behavior” and that “exposure to the concept” is the key to changing attitudes. For this reason, many judges believed that educational efforts would be most effective with newer judges, who are less set in their philosophy and practices and more open to learning new skills. The judges conceded, however, that attitudes among longer tenured judges may be slow to change and, therefore, the widespread adoption of problem solving would inevitably be a long-term process. Participants also felt that there are many judges who would potentially be receptive to problem solving yet lack the necessary skills or are unaware of opportunities to practice it in conventional courts.Steps were suggested to better educate the bench, such as including relevant training courses in new judge orientation and judicial college curricula. Most judges felt that it would only make a difference if these courses were mandatory to avoid a “preaching to the choir” effect. Also recommended were less formal ways that judges could be exposed to problem solving—observing specialized problem-solving courts, holding brown bag lunches to discuss relevant issues, sharing success stories. A common theme was that judges should “hear it from other judges” rather than from administrators, attorneys or academics. Focus group participants also encouraged similar training for prosecutors and defenders.In California, there was discussion of the need for “encouragement” and “institutional validation” from presiding judges and other judicial leaders. They suggested that these leaders might encourage bench judges to practice problem solving when appropriate and to volunteer for specialized problem-solving court assignments. Focus group participants did not, however, favor mandatory assignment to these courts, fearing that an assigned judge might be hostile to the court’s goals or methods, or that too-frequent rotation might introduce discontinuity and reduce efficiency. One participant suggested that when making promotions that judicial leaders place less emphasis on traditional skills (e.g., scholarly publications or timely case flow management) and greater emphasis on solving problems. ConclusionShould problem solving be encouraged in general courts? Some may object that elements of the problem solving court model are inconsistent with conventional court processes. There are also unresolved questions. We do not yet know how effective problem solving might be when practiced in conventional courts, with their heavier caseloads, more adversarial process and untrained court personnel. Nor do we know what might be lost when judges and courts, rather than adopting the entire problem-solving court model, selectively apply just some of its practices and principles. What this research project makes clear, however, is that the potential exists for problem solving to be practiced both in specialized and conventional court settings.

Nationally, there are 27 community courts in operation across the United States. The first community court opened in midtown Manhattan in 1993. Focusing on quality-of-life offenses (drug possession, shoplifting, vandalism, prostitution, and the like), the Midtown Community Court combined punishment and help, sentencing low-level offenders to perform visible community restitution and receive on-site social services, including drug treatment, counseling, and job training. The community courts that have followed in the Midtown Court’s wake seek to achieve many goals, such as reduced crime, increased engagement between citizens and the courts, improved perceptions of neighborhood safety, and a greater level of accountability for low-level, "quality-of-life" offenders.       As yet, no consensus has emerged regarding how to best measure the goals of these programs, primarily due to the large variety of models adopted by different courts. To date, there are seven notable community court evaluations focusing on four community courts—Midtown Community Court, Red Hook Community Justice Center in Brooklyn, New York, Hennepin County Community Court in Minneapolis, Minnesota, and Hartford Community Court in Connecticut. This article summarizes the basic findings from these evaluations. While sharing similar goals overall, the four community courts studied have a variety of differences, both in the types of court cases they hear and in their programmatic emphasis. It comes as little surprise that a variety of methodologies have been used to evaluate community courts. The most common is some form of community survey (e.g, phone interviews, door-to- door surveys, focus groups) designed to measure community perceptions of community court success. This was the primary method of the two Red Hook studies (Moore 2004; Frazer 2005). In addition, the studies of Hennepin (Weidner and Davis 2000; Eckberg 2001), Midtown (Sviridoff et al—Phase One, 2000; Phase Two, 2001), and Hartford (The Justice Education Center 2002) included offender interviews or focus groups and utilized stakeholder interviews to gather the perceptions and opinions of court staff and treatment providers. The two Hennepin studies and both Midtown studies also gathered administrative/court data to do larger-scale quantitative analysis. As a result, Midtown and Hennepin, unlike Hartford, have been a subject of both process and outcome evaluations. The 2000 Hennepin and Midtown studies included cost-benefit analyses as well. What follows is a review of what the literature tells us with regard to the community courts’ success in meeting their primary goals—holding offenders to a greater level of accountability for quality-of-life crimes, increasing communication between the community and the criminal justice system, improving community perceptions of safety, increasing case processing efficiency, and reducing certain types of crimes in certain neighborhoods. Holding Offenders AccountableOne of the original goals of the Midtown Community Court was to reduce the number of “walks” given out for quality-of-life crimes—sentences such as “time served” or a conditional discharge with no conditions. Midtown achieved this goal for all of the most common charges handled by the court—between 1 percent and 12 percent of Midtown offenders were given a “walk” for the top four charges compared to 23 percent to 55 percent of offenders whose cases were heard at Manhattan’s centralized criminal court. As such, offenders sentenced at the Midtown Community Court were at least twice as likely to receive a community or social service sentence as opposed to offenders sentenced in downtown Manhattan. In addition to changing sentencing practice, the Midtown Court also sought to improve compliance with community-based sanctions. Researchers found that the Midtown community service compliance rate was 75 percent—about 50 percent higher than downtown, and the highest compliance rate in all of New York City. Finally, the 2000 community survey in Hennepin reported that community members thought the most important feature of the community court was that compliance with community service sentences was closely monitored by the court (3.73 on a scale of 4.0). Community PerceptionsMany community members in Midtown and Hennepin reported that they were willing to reallocate their tax dollars, or even pay more in taxes, to support a community court. In Midtown, 64 percent of respondents were willing to pay some amount of additional taxes to support a court with features like the Midtown Community Court. Of those willing to pay more in taxes, 52 percent were willing to pay up to $100 extra per year. Many community members in Midtown and Hennepin reported that they were willing to reallocate their tax dollars, or even pay more in taxes, to support a community court. In Midtown, 64 percent of respondents were willing to pay some amount of additional taxes to support a court with features like the Midtown Community Court. Of those willing to pay more in taxes, 52 percent were willing to pay up to $100 extra per year. In the 2000 Hennepin study, 66 percent of community residents who were surveyed were willing to reallocate their taxes, and 64 percent were willing to pay more in taxes to support a community court. Of those willing to pay more in taxes, 73 percent were willing to pay up to $25 more annually in taxes. Significantly, those residents who had heard of the community court or who owned their residence were most likely to be willing to contribute to the court. The 2005 study of Red Hook, Brooklyn reported that 76 percent of respondents had a positive feeling about having a community-based court in their neighborhood. Another Red Hook study, published in 2004, documented that those who lived in public housing or who identified as “black” had more negative perceptions of their community. A similar community survey was conducted in Hennepin in 2001 and found that almost two thirds of respondents (65.6 percent) thought that the county was not harsh enough with criminals. Processing EfficiencyThe Midtown study documents speedier case processing in community court, as does the 2000 Hennepin study. In the first three years that the Midtown Court was open, the average arrest-to-arraignment time was 18.9 hours compared to 29.2 hours at the downtown Manhattan court. The Hennepin Court also achieved quicker case processing, even though more appearances were required before disposition. The average number of days from court filing to disposition was 78.9 for the Hennepin community court defendants, compared to 80 and 124 for the two comparison groups used in that study. However, from arraignment to disposition, the community court needed 6.4 appearances compared to only 3.2 and 4.2 for the comparison defendants. The authors of the Hennepin study speculate that the increased number of appearances in the community court are, in large part, due to the increased number of compliance monitoring appearances needed to hold offenders accountable. Reduced CrimeThe Midtown study is the only one to tackle the impact on crime in the community, documenting encouraging results: Prostitution arrests were down 56 percent and illegal vending arrests were down 24 percent following the opening of the community court. Data from ethnographic observations and individual interviews confirmed this drop in criminal activity. In addition, defendants who had completed at least 90 days of court-mandated drug treatment demonstrated a reduction in annual arrest rate over three years compared to prior to the Midtown intervention (2.3 annual arrests pre-Midtown versus 0.9 post-Midtown). Cost-Benefit AnalysisThe 2000 Hennepin study includes a comprehensive cost-benefit analysis. Overall, the community court was found to be more expensive than regular case processing, costing an additional net $704.52 per case, but the authors noted that there are many additional benefits that cannot be quantified in monetary value to offset the costs. The only benefit that was included is the value of community service performed by defendants. Other benefits included the improved quality of life in the neighborhood and the improved quality and efficiency of decision-making due to increased information sharing. The Midtown study includes a cost-benefit analysis, as well, but that analysis is, by the authors’ own admission, limited due to lack of ability to quantify fully all benefits and costs. What the Midtown study did find, though, are significant monetary benefits to the court system—including approximately $100,000 in reduced costs due to decreased pre-arraignment detention, $500,000 in reduced costs due to reduced use of jail, $570,000 in future reduced costs due to reduced prostitution arrests, and $150,000 in benefits derived from the community service of defendants—for a total of approximately $1.3 million annually. Offender PerceptionsThe Hartford study included interviews with offenders to document their perceptions of their experience. Overall, offenders thought the community court was a good idea (96 percent), that their sentence was fair (73 percent), that the community court was helping Hartford neighborhoods (83 percent), and that all people were treated fairly at the community court (61 percent). Similarly, the Red Hook community survey (Moore 2004) found that the majority (56 percent) of those who had had a case at the Justice Center reported a positive experience. The Hartford offenders also thought the prosecutor was fair (76 percent) and an overwhelming majority (91 percent) thought they were treated with respect by the judge. As is typical in Connecticut for misdemeanor cases, most defendants had no legal representation (79 percent). Many thought they needed a lawyer (84 percent). The Midtown study included interviews with female prostitutes who had been arrested and brought to the Midtown Community Court. These women had both positive and negative comments about the Court. On the positive side, they commented that, compared to the traditional downtown court, the community court processed their cases quicker, the holding cells were cleaner, the food was better, and the staff more sympathetic. On the other hand, the women complained that the alternative sentences at Midtown made it more difficult for them to “work”; furthermore, many women mentioned that they would continue to engage in prostitution, but would move out of the Midtown catchment area. (In response the Midtown Community Court made several efforts to combat the potential “displacement effect.” Most notably, the Court now handles all prostitution arrests in Manhattan.) Both Hennepin studies included offender interviews or focus groups. The 2000 study included a handful of semi-structured interviews with defendants who had been sentenced to community-based services. These four defendants felt that the community court gave them the opportunity and the help they needed to break out of the cycle of rearrest by linking them to needed services. Stakeholder PerceptionsThe 2000 Hennepin study included focus groups and interviews with stakeholders of the community court, including staff and treatment providers. The treatment providers in particular were pleased with the court’s linking offenders to services, holding them accountable, and locating key service providers in the same building. In Hartford, staff felt that reacting strongly to quality-of-life crimes prevents future offenses because offenders know these actions are going to be taken seriously. Similar to Hennepin, Hartford staff liked the balance between punishment and help and thought accountability was important. Overall, Hartford staff thought the community court provides an “opportunity for a second chance” with “a client-centered” social service delivery system. The Hartford study also included interviews with staff that documented the implementation challenges and barriers in opening an innovative program within the criminal justice system. ConclusionAs the community court model spreads across the country, it is important for the evaluation literature to catch up. There are several methodologies highlighted here, but, to date, no one single study has covered all aspects of evaluation—process evaluation, outcome evaluation, community impact survey, offender perceptions, and cost-benefit analysis. The Midtown and Hennepin evaluations come the closest but are now several years old. Future analysis should seek to give a more comprehensive picture of these complex projects. ReferencesEckberg, Deborah, 2001, Hennepin County Community Justice Project: Summary Report of Short-Term Evaluation, Hennepin County District Court Research Department. Frazer, M. Somjen, 2005, Op Data, 2004: Red Hook, Brooklyn, Center for Court Innovation. Goldkamp, J., D. Weiland, and C. Irons-Guynn, 2000, Developing an Evaluation Plan for Community Courts: Assessing the Hartford Community Court Model, Crime and Justice Research Institute. Malkin, Victoria, 2003, Community Courts and the Process of Accountability—Means to What End? (unpublished paper). Moore, Kelli, 2004, Op Data, 2001: Red Hook, Brooklyn, Center for Court Innovation. The Justice Education Center, Inc, 2002, Evaluation of the Hartford Community Court, The Justice Education Center, Inc. Sviridoff, M., D. Rottman, B. Ostrom and R. Curtis, 2000, Dispensing Justice Locally: The Implementation and Effects of the Midtown Community Court, Harwood Academic Publishers, Amsterdam. Sviridoff, M., D. Rottman, R. Weidner, F. Cheesman, R. Curtis, R. Hansen, and B. Ostrom, 2001, Dispensing Justice Locally: The Impacts, Cost and Benefits of the Midtown Community Court, Center for Court Innovation. Weidner, R., and C. Davis, 2000, Benefits and Costs of the Hennepin County Community Court—A Preliminary Analysis, Institute on Criminal Justice, University of Minnesota Law School.

In 1992, Patrick Daly, a principal at an elementary school in Red Hook, was accidentally murdered in a drug-related shoot-out. In the months following his death, Brooklyn D.A. Charles J. Hynes began to speak out publicly about public safety in Red Hook, saying that the neighborhood would be an ideal location for a community court. In 1994, Greg Berman was hired as the lead planner for the Red Hook Community Justice Center. The following are excerpts from his Planning Diary, which he wrote as a record of how he negotiated some of the challenges of early planning, including community needs assessment, fundraising and program design. To read the entire document, click here. In 1992, Patrick Daly, a principal at an elementary school in Red Hook, was accidentally murdered in a drug-related shoot-out. In the months following his death, Brooklyn D.A. Charles J. Hynes began to speak out publicly about public safety in Red Hook, saying that the neighborhood would be an ideal location for a community court. His remarks started the ball rolling. There were other factors that made Red Hook an attractive site. Most important was the neighborhood’s isolation—it is one of the few communities in New York with easily identifiable borders. In such a well-defined community, it is easier for a demonstration project like a community court to have a concentrated impact. It is also simpler for researchers to measure that impact. One of the very first things that happened after I accepted the job as planner was a series of focus groups with Red Hook residents. The Brooklyn D.A.’s Office helped put the groups together, bringing in an outside consultant to facilitate the conversations. We held separate discussions with community leaders, social service providers, young people and single moms. Red Hook is small enough—it has less than 11,000 residents—that we were able to get just about all of the major players in the neighborhood to come, as well as reach beneath them to talk directly with their constituents. More than 50 people attended the groups, which were held at the Red Hook Public Library. Participants were asked a series of fairly simple questions: What are the major problems in Red Hook? How might a community court help address them? What should be the court’s priorities? The conversations were extremely lively. I remember that once people started talking it was difficult to get them to stop—several of the groups ran well over their allotted times. I learned a couple of important things from the focus groups. The first was that despite Red Hook’s reputation for drugs and serious violence, the way that local residents talked about their community was not markedly different from the way that residents of Midtown Manhattan talked about their neighborhood in focus groups held before the creation of the Midtown Community Court. Quality-of-life conditions—graffiti, littering, noise violations, loitering—weighed heavily on the minds of those who participated in the focus groups. I remember one participant saying, "Violations do not receive any priority. ... We need a [better] quality of life. Even the schools are not safe." Another expressed the feelings of many when he said, "The court system has failed us. ... [Offenders] go through revolving doors." But low-level offending was not the only thing on the minds of the focus group participants. Red Hook residents had problems that took them to Family Court and Civil Court as well as Criminal Court. These included disputes with landlords, small claims cases and domestic violence issues. Several participants lamented the jurisdictional boundaries of New York’s court system. One person said, "You can’t divide a person up. You have to have a comprehensive look at the whole person. The community court could do that." Comments like this one confirmed our initial hunch that a community court in a neighborhood like Red Hook should be multi-jurisdictional, that it should attempt to address the full range of legal issues faced by local residents, not just criminal matters. Finally, participants in the focus groups urged the court to be as aggressive as possible in providing social services. One recommended that the court look at "the total picture—spousal abuse, victim services, teenagers, mentor programs, mock court, parenting skills." From comments like these, we began to fashion a notion that the court should provide services not just to defendants, as the Midtown Community Court does, but to everyone who is touched by crime in Red Hook—defendants, victims and those in the community who were simply concerned about public safety. It was not long after the focus groups that we decided to call the project a "community justice center" instead of a community court. We thought that "community justice center" better signified our intention to build much more than just a courtroom in Red Hook.

Given its history, it is fair to say that many Red Hookers were understandably hesitant about ambitious new government initiatives. In attempting to win community support for the Justice Center, this attitude would prove to be planners' largest obstacle. In 1994, Greg Berman was hired as the lead planner for the Red Hook Community Justice Center. The following are excerpts from his Planning Diary, which he wrote as a record of how he negotiated some of the challenges of early planning, including community needs assessment, fundraising and program design. To read the entire document, click here. The focus groups were productive sessions, unearthing a treasure trove of valuable data about community attitudes and expectations. At the same time, they were a useful tool for building neighborhood support, as I discovered in the days that followed. Red Hook is a neighborhood with a deep skepticism about government initiatives, a skepticism that is rooted in a history of government neglect and unwanted intervention. Many Red Hook residents feel that their community is home to a disproportionate number of undesirable government projects. They point to the neighborhood’s methadone clinic and waste transfer station as prime examples. They also feel that their neighborhood’s character was forever changed for the worse by Robert Moses, the master builder of New York, who essentially cut the neighborhood off from the rest of Brooklyn when he constructed the elevated Gowanus Parkway in the 1940s. Given this history, it is fair to say that many Red Hookers are understandably hesitant about ambitious new government initiatives, no matter how good they sound on paper. In attempting to win community support for the Justice Center, this attitude would prove to be our largest obstacle. We got off to a good start in overcoming it with the focus groups. Almost by accident, we had sent a powerful message to Red Hook residents by convening the focus groups. And that message was: your voice counts. The focus groups were a visible sign that we intended to consult the community at each step of the process. This was not lost on participants. Over the next several months, I met individually with every stakeholder that I could think of: business owners, clergy, tenant leaders, elected officials, police officers, Housing Authority administrators, local social service providers and others. As an outsider to the community, I took pains to emphasize that I was there to learn from them, that my job was to help translate their concerns and their ideas into concrete programs. In general, people were generous with their time and grateful to be asked their opinion. I also went to as many public meetings in Red Hook as possible. At some, I spoke about the Justice Center. At others, I went just to listen. This sent the message that I wasn’t coming to the community as a carpetbagger, that I was interested in more than just selling a bill of goods.  What I learned from all of these encounters was that there is no substitute for face time. In other words, it is impossible to build meaningful relationships with people without investing significant time and energy. As the months passed, I found my connections with community leaders deepening. I met their children, attended their church services, wrote them letters of recommendation, ate dinner with them, and supported several of their neighborhood charity efforts. These ties would serve the Justice Center well when it was necessary to mobilize neighborhood support for a grant proposal, a newspaper article or a public meeting. To my surprise, my outreach efforts revealed very few concerns about the Justice Center. The few issues that did come up were less about the concept than about process: Who would direct the Justice Center once it opened? What were we doing about jobs for neighborhood residents? Would the Justice Center have a community advisory board? Given these concerns, we decided to create a formal vehicle for community input. For the last 30 years, New York City has had a network of 59 "community boards" that are responsible for advising the city’s administration about land use and other neighborhood issues. Several dozen community representatives sit on each board. Early on, Community Board 6 in Brooklyn, which includes Red Hook, agreed to convene a special task force devoted to the Justice Center. During the first years of planning, this task force functioned as a de facto advisory board for the project. They convened public meetings about the project every three months or so. These sessions were a valuable opportunity for community residents to stay informed about the Justice Center and for us to keep our fingers on the pulse of the neighborhood.

In 1994, Greg Berman was hired as the lead planner for the Red Hook Community Justice Center. The following are excerpts from his Planning Diary, which he wrote as a record of how he negotiated some of the challenges of early planning, including community needs assessment, fundraising and program design. To read the entire document, click here. I was not alone in trying to build community support for the Justice Center. From the start, I enjoyed the active partnership of the Brooklyn D.A.’s Office. Two attorneys in particular—Gene Lopez and Carl Thomas—were instrumental. Their presence, and the D.A.’s early endorsement, lent the project immediate credibility. I think it is important to note that the partnership with the D.A.’s office is not a make-believe or paper partnership, but a real-world relationship fraught with real-world tensions and conflicts. Although we share a common goal—creating a neighborhood justice center—we both have our own organizational agendas and pressures outside of Red Hook. Inter-agency collaboration takes patience, but in my experience it is well worth the effort. The D.A.’s office has helped enrich the planning process, bringing additional resources—and a different institutional perspective—to the table. While the relationship with the D.A.’s office was the most intimate, it was by no means the only partnership that was forged in the early days of the project. Another crucial partner was Victim Services, New York’s largest victim assistance agency, which runs programs throughout the city’s neighborhoods, including Red Hook. Bringing Victim Services into the planning process made perfect sense; Red Hook is a community in which nearly every resident is at immediate risk of being a crime victim. Similarly, many residents know someone, either a friend or relative, who has been the perpetrator of crime. In this environment, a community justice center must be aggressive about providing victims with assistance and giving them a voice in the justice process. Victim Services has been instrumental in helping us think through these issues.

n 1994, Greg Berman was hired as the lead planner for the Red Hook Community Justice Center. The following are excerpts from his Planning Diary, which he wrote as a record of how he negotiated some of the challenges of early planning, including community needs assessment, fundraising and program design. To read the entire document, click here. Siting a new project is almost always a tricky business, particularly in a city like New York, where real estate is an extremely precious—and political—commodity. Thankfully, Red Hook offered one major advantage in this regard. Because of the dramatic population and business flight out of the neighborhood over the preceding 25 years, Red Hook has a number of vacant and abandoned properties. After investigating all of the city-owned sites in the neighborhood—and inspecting several privately-held properties as well—eight sites emerged as viable options. Each was close to public transportation and each was large enough to house both a courtroom and social service programs. In an effort to narrow the list further, we organized a bus tour for local community leaders from the Community Board 6 task force. After looking at all of the possibilities, their clear first choice was Visitation School, a vacant parochial school that had closed its doors in the 1970s. Visitation struck their fancy for several reasons. First, it was located in between "the front" and the "the back." In Red Hook parlance, "the front" signifies the public housing projects. "The back" is the area closer to the waterfront, which is composed of single-family row houses that are occupied primarily by Italian and Irish Americans. Visitation, in effect, is situated in neutral territory—it "belongs" to neither the front nor the back. This is an important political consideration in Red Hook.  On an emotional level, many residents were drawn to Visitation because it had once been an important community resource. They looked at the Justice Center as an opportunity to bring back to life a magnificent old building. And magnificent is precisely the word to describe it: built at the turn of the century, Visitation School has the kind of dignified street presence that you might expect from a neighborhood courthouse. And, as it turned out, Catholic Charities, which owned the building, was willing to lease it to us for a reasonable price and play an active role in making the project happen. End of story, right? Wrong. Visitation was not without its drawbacks. Although the structure itself was in good shape, the interior was a disaster. Asbestos and lead paint were major problems. The roof needed to be replaced. None of the windows were worth saving. It took several months to investigate the building properly—conducting tests, analyzing results, meeting with engineers and construction managers, preparing preliminary architectural drawings. After all was said and done, we got the bad news: it would cost several million dollars to renovate the building.

In 1994, Greg Berman was hired as the lead planner for the Red Hook Community Justice Center. The following are excerpts from his Planning Diary, which he wrote as a record of how he negotiated some of the challenges of early planning, including community needs assessment, fundraising and program design. To read the entire document, click here. Many good ideas founder on the shoals of poor fundraising. No program, no matter how well-intentioned or creative, can survive without adequate resources. I won’t lie about this: raising money for the Justice Center was not easy. There were days, even months, when I thought that the project would wither on the vine as we waited for grant proposals to be reviewed. The initial planning of the Justice Center was underwritten by small grants from a couple of sources—the Fund for the City of New York, the Schubert Foundation, the Scherman Foundation and, in what might have been a first in this country, the local housing authority. While this was enough to keep me employed, it was not nearly enough to support a multi-million dollar renovation project. The question quickly became: where do we find that kind of dough? The answer came at the end of 1996. After several months of conversation, site visits and proposal writing, the Justice Department’s Bureau of Justice Assistance agreed to pay for the soft costs associated with renovating the Visitation School—primarily fees for architects, engineers and renovation managers. With this money in hand, we were able to make a much stronger case to the Mayor’s Office in New York City. Red Hook all of a sudden had attracted the interest of the federal government, which had shown its commitment to the project by making a two-year, $1.2 million grant. Would the city step up to the plate as well? The decision was made at the highest possible levels: New York State Chief Judge Judith S. Kaye and New York City Mayor Rudy W. Giuliani were personally involved in the conversations. Finally, after more than two years of reaching out to the community, building the concept and developing the site, in December 1996 the City announced that it would cover the full cost of renovating the school.

Before developing a community court project, planners need to define the major problems a neighborhood faces. This article breaks down that process into six steps. 1. Ask Residents What They Think Purpose: To get an understanding of the community, and the issues residents feel are important; and to identify community assets that could help in developing solutions. How to do it: The basic techniques of community engagement—stakeholder interviews, focus groups, attending community meetings, administering community surveys—will help you get the information you need. Some helpful tips are: Engage a broad spectrum of local voices, including youth. Seek out those with special knowledge of the community, in addition to the average citizen. Ask people to identify possible solutions as well as problems. Find out what people think of the criminal justice system. Make firsthand observations and assessments of the neighborhood. 2. Gather Hard Data About the Problem Purpose: To obtain quantitative data that will sharpen the understanding of problems identified by community members.  How to do it: Relevant numbers are available from an array of sources, including the United States Census Bureau, the state and local court systems, police departments, district attorneys' offices, welfare agencies, departments of education, health and social services, housing authorities and other government agencies. You can also collect your own numbers by: Observing court proceedings and recording dispositions over a week or a month to understand how judges respond to particular cases. Polling defendants held prior to arraignment to find out what kind of problems they have. Talk to system insiders who might be able to accurately estimate numbers that are otherwise unavailable. 3. Analyze the Current Response  Purpose: To understand what is working and what is not working with the current ways of addressing local problems. Planners must study the current procedures in-depth, identifying weaknesses, gaps in service, inefficiencies and unsatisfactory outcomes. How to do it: You can interview key players in the criminal justice system (police, prosecutors, criminal defense attorneys, judges, court clerks, probation officers, etc.) and outside the criminal justice system (social service providers, health care staff, etc.) who might have valuable insights. You can also review statistics with system insiders and undertake first-hand observations of key processes. 4. Share Idea with the Community  Purpose: To ensure that all stakeholders understand what problem or set of problems the project will address, and that there is a general consensus that this is the right approach. How to do it: This step not only helps focus the planning effort, but it also demonstrates to the residents that the community is a real partner in the project. You can get the word out by: Drafting a problem statement that can be circulated among key stakeholders. Conducting follow-up community meetings to share what the data revealed. Sending letters to stakeholders. Checking in with key stakeholders by phone. Contacting elected officials and fill them in on what you're doing and learning. 5. Develop Solutions  Purpose: To craft concrete solutions to the local crime and public-safety problems identified by the community and criminal justice stakeholders. How to do it: Once the problem is defined, planners can start brainstorming potential solutions. No doubt some ideas are already in hand. More can be found by talking to system players, such as judges, attorneys, cops, parole and probation officers, court officers and service partners. Ideas often come from other jurisdictions that are handling similar problems in creative ways. Planners should also find out what's been done in the past—what worked, what didn't and why? return to map 6. Monitor Results  Purpose: To study the effectiveness of the project as it moves to implementation and to continue to identify new problems and appropriate solutions on an ongoing basis. How to do it: The most successful projects pursue reflection and self-improvement on a regular basis. This requires collection of data for self-evaluation and can be done a number of ways. Here are some ideas: Survey community members regularly. Form a collaboration with a local university to engage in ongoing research of your project. Devote project resources and personnel to monitoring program results. Develop and maintain on-going communication with the community your project serves through newsletters, formal and informal meetings, and involvement in your program.

 “Talk to everybody. Get the vision of the stakeholders, community boards, the business community, cops, every single block association and everybody in and out of the system.” – Michele Sviridoff, deputy director for research at the Center for Court Innovation Whether it originates out of the local police department, prosecutor’s office, probation department or court system, a community justice project must be tailored to the neighborhood it serves. And since the focus of all community justice projects is solving local crime and public safety problems, one of the foremost tasks for planners is to identify the key problems that the neighborhood in question faces. Planners can go about that in a number of ways, starting with direct outreach to local stakeholders. Planners should talk with both community leaders and a cross-section of average citizens. In addition to individual conversations, focus groups, surveys and attending community meetings are excellent ways to take a community’s pulse. It’s best to ask a broad range of questions, covering general attitudes about the neighborhood and issues related to crime, safety and youths. Planners should also ask people to identify a community’s assets. Planners can round out their picture of the community by walking through the neighborhood. Planners need quantitative data to sharpen their understanding of the issues identified by the community. Planners find it useful to know the number of people in the catchment area; profiles of residents, as well as offenders, including their socio-economic status, ages, level of schooling and employment; types and locations of crimes; types of housing; the annual number of violations, misdemeanor and felony arrests and case outcomes. Once the problems have been clearly defined, planners start generating solutions. By this stage, many good ideas have probably already surfaced; others can be harvested by talking to local members of the criminal justice system, and by turning to other jurisdictions that are handling similar problems in creative ways. For more, read Steps to Defining the Problem, which breaks down the process.