The Black Child-Savers: Racial Democracy & Juvenile Justice

Geoff K. Ward is assistant professor in the Department of Criminology, Law and Society at the University of California, Irvine.

The University of Chicago Press, Chicago 60637

The University of Chicago Press, Ltd., London

© 2012 by The University of Chicago

All rights reserved. Published 2012.

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ISBN-13: 978-0-226-87316-9 (cloth)

ISBN-13: 978-0-226-87318-3 (paper)

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ISBN-10: 0-226-87318-8 (paper)

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Ward, Geoff K.

The black child-savers : racial democracy and juvenile justice / Geoff K. Ward.

p.     cm.

Includes bibliographical references and index.

ISBN-13: 978-0-226-87316-9 (hardcover : alkaline paper)

ISBN-10: 0-226-87316-1 (hardcover : alkaline paper)

ISBN-13: 978-0-226-87318-3 (paperback : alkaline paper)

ISBN-10: 0-226-87318-8 (paperback : alkaline paper) 1. Juvenile justice, Administration of—United States—History. 2. Discrimination in juvenile justice administration—United States—History. 3. African American children—Legal status, laws, etc.—United States—History. 4. Juvenile courts—United States—History. I. Title.

HV9104.W37 2012

364.36089'96073—dc23

2011035702

This paper meets the requirements of ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992

(Permanence of Paper).

The Black Child-Savers

Racial Democracy and Juvenile Justice

GEOFF K. WARD

The University of Chicago Press

Chicago and London

CONTENTS

List of Illustrations

Introduction: The Rise and Fall of Jim Crow Juvenile Justice

PART I: THE ORIGINS AND ORGANIZATION OF JIM CROW JUVENILE JUSTICE

ONE / Citizen Delinquent: Race, Liberal Democracy, and the Rehabilitative Ideal

TWO / No Refuge under the Law: Racialized Foundations of Juvenile Justice Reform

THREE / Birth of a Juvenile Court

FOUR / The Social Organization of Jim Crow Justice

PART II: REWRITING THE RACIAL CONTRACT: THE BLACK CHILD-SAVING MOVEMENT

FIVE / Uplifting Black Citizens Delinquent: The Vanguard Movement, 1900–1930

SIX / Institutionalizing Racial Justice: The Black Surrogate Parental State, 1930–65

SEVEN / The Early Spoils of Integration

Conclusion: The Declining Significance of Inclusion

Acknowledgments

Notes

Index

ILLUSTRATIONS

FIGURES

0.1. Whites and nonwhites among male youths committed to juvenile correctional institutions and within the U.S. population, 1880–2000 (in percentages)

2.1 View of the white section of the Philadelphia House of Refuge, ca. 1858

2.2 View of the colored section of the Philadelphia House of Refuge, ca. 1858

2.3. Juvenile convicts at work in the fields, ca. 1903

4.1 George Stinney, electrocuted in 1941 at age fourteen by South Carolina

5.1 An apparently uplifted black delinquent

5.2 The Industrial Home for Wayward Girls

5.3 Farming at the Industrial Home for Wayward Girls

5.4 The white juvenile court building in Memphis

5.5 The black juvenile courthouse in Memphis

7.1 Flyer advertising NAACP meeting to address juvenile crime

8.1 Racially disproportionate confinement by period

TABLES

3.1 Percentage of U.S. population served by juvenile courts in 1917 by area

3.2 Percentage of population residing in urban areas by race and region (1910)

3.3 Group percentages of U.S. incarcerated population by age, race, and gender, 1904 and 1910

3.4 Differences in rates of juvenile commitment per 100,000 in the U.S. population, by race, gender, and nativity (1910)

3.5 Differences in rates of juvenile commitment per 100,000 in the U.S. population, by race, nativity, and region (1910)

3.6 Percentage of committed youths confined in adult institutions (prisons, jails, and workhouses), by race and region (1910)

4.1 Regional concentrations and proportions of the black population in the United States, 1880–1970

4.2 Race and youth executions by juvenile justice periods

INTRODUCTION

The Rise and Fall of Jim Crow Juvenile Justice

Over a century after the birth of Jim Crow juvenile justice, this book offers the first detailed account of this peculiar institution and how it collided with black freedom dreams to spawn a long movement on behalf of that entity W. E. B. DuBois called the immortal child, in a veiled reference to group fate.¹ The project began with a naive interest in documenting the historical significance of race in American juvenile justice. My initial thought was to make a graph, but in the late 1990s that graph expanded to a time line depicting the historical backdrop of racial inequality in this institutional context. That summary was to be embedded in the brief historical background section of a contemporary statistical study of race and juvenile justice. The history, I thought, would be the easier part, with my overview of historical race relations based on institutional commitment rates of black youths dating to around 1900—when the juvenile court movement began. Given the scarcity of government and academic sources concerning this racial history, however, even this proved difficult. And, once I found those numbers, they created more puzzles than they explained. Thus, the central focus of my research became the far greater and more important challenge of conceptualizing and measuring the historical significance of race in American juvenile justice.

In my initial search for statistics, I had barely considered the theoretical and methodological aspects of graphically depicting racial history. The received wisdom on framing race and racial inequality indicated that to capture the salience of race I would need to chart over time the onset and increase of disproportionate minority confinement (DMC) in juvenile institutions and, perhaps, in adult jails and prisons. Disproportionate minority youth contact was fundamental to the race problem, and the conception of racism generally highlighted the significance of race to juvenile justice processes and outcomes. The study of race effects in juvenile justice thus had to assess whether youth racial status mattered in sanctioning.

After determining the beginning of the DMC problem, I intended to assess the statistical significance of youth racial and ethnic status for sanctioning outcomes through a standard cross-sectional study of government data. Using this slice of time in contemporary juvenile justice, I would examine race in relation to structured decisionmaking (SDM) tools. Typically using paper-and-pencil forms to generate case assessments and classifications, juvenile justice officials have often used this device to make sanctioning decisions. Did this actually reduce racial disparities in sanctioning, as proponents maintained? The instruments were believed to regulate individual discretion, including racial bias, thus making juvenile justice systems fairer. Did they really increase racial justice? The answer, I assumed, would be revealed in the insignificance of youth racial status to outcomes in more structured or regulated courts. In the course of writing this book, however, I reconsidered whether race relations in juvenile justice are primarily a matter of youth outcomes, whether institutional racism is rooted in unregulated decisionmaker bias, and whether racial justice hinges on the irrelevance of race to justice processes. Actual history shed an entirely new light on these notions as well as on the problem of DMC, on the advent of SDM, and on much of the way in which we understand past and present racial politics of juvenile social control.

At first the near absence of historical background in the race and juvenile justice research struck me as an oddity and an opportunity. The extant literature on race was substantial, but it barely delved into history. Most empirical studies read as though American juvenile justice was suddenly overcome with race problems in the final quarter of the twentieth century. Aside from the black popular and academic presses, few studies were published within, or focused on, the period before 1970. These trends probably resulted from federal and state policies on DMC, whose funding streams created a flood of research focused on this relatively narrow topic and recent time frame.

Even more surprising was the limited analysis of race in the rich historical literature on the institutional development of juvenile justice. Racial and ethnic status and power relations are rarely subjects of sustained scrutiny in this series of historical studies of white American and immigrant European youth and community experiences. Beyond the absence of a racial politics of whiteness, the histories give little account of nonwhite youths and communities, who also had stakes in the emergence of American juvenile justice. The omission of race in historical work on juvenile justice mirrors the exclusion of nonwhites in the earliest practices of juvenile justice. White adults controlled juvenile justice systems, and those systems were typically reserved for white youths, denying nonwhite youths and adults equal recognition, opportunity, and influence. From the founding of houses of refuge in the early nineteenth century until a decade beyond the Brown v. Board of Education (1956) ruling, American juvenile justice routinely prioritized rehabilitative intervention in the lives of white children and youths. This manufactory of citizens, as Theodore Roosevelt once described enlightened juvenile justice, was organized to reproduce a white democracy.² The white-dominated parental state engaged for generations in racially selective citizen- and state-building initiatives through juvenile justice policy and practice. By failing to subject separate and unequal juvenile justice to close or critical scrutiny, research has historically ignored, mentioned superficially, or assisted in this civic arrangement.

The current costs of this historical oversight mean that today’s research, policies, and popular efforts to assess the salience of race and remedy racial inequality are disconnected from an important body of information. History offers distinct insight into the phenomenon of race effects, a term researchers use in data analysis to characterize the statistical significance of race variables (e.g., the race of the accused or victim). It reveals dimensions and mechanisms of race relations, including how racial ideology, politics, and structures took shape and changed over time in this institutional context. In short, it tells us how race has mattered in juvenile social control and how these influences relate to the question of inequality. Without history, we lose perspective on the racial structure of juvenile justice, the nature of racial inequality, and the meaning of racial justice.

My search through historical archives eventually resulted in a graph on the background of DMC. Figure 0.1 shows the percentages of white and nonwhite among youths committed to public and private juvenile reformatory institutions in selected years between 1890 and 2000. Below these two lines is one that shows the proportion of nonwhites in the general U.S. population during the same period, providing a basis for roughly gauging the extent of youth DMC. The area between the two measures of nonwhite population shows a gradual, somewhat linear increase in youth DMC over the past century, with escalations surrounding war years, including the 1960s and 1970s. The period since 1980 reflects the general onset of racialized mass incarceration in the United States, indicating a sharp rise in the relative representation of nonwhite youths in juvenile institutions toward the end of the twentieth century.

0.1. Whites and nonwhites among male youths committed to juvenile correctional institutions and within the U.S. population, 1880–2000 (in percentages).

This approach has conventionally been used to assess the extent of racial inequality in juvenile justice, that is, as a problem of disproportion requiring a remedy of redistribution. The goal of current race-related juvenile justice policy is to achieve greater proportionality in sanctioning.³ However, as I detail throughout this book, this historical depiction obscures the racial politics of juvenile justice more than it clarifies its characteristics and significance.

The color line during the first half of the twentieth century is deceptively flat, creating a mirage of relative equality indicated by racially proportionate commitment. Instead, the period is defined by tremendous racial conflict and inequality, including overt racial oppression and domination in the administration of juvenile justice. Racially proportional representation in juvenile institutions was never greater than during the Progressive Era (1890–1920), when Jim Crow juvenile justice was born and black civic leaders first declared war on these systems of separate and unequal juvenile social control. Originally, low rates of black youth confinement were rooted in this racial regime of Jim Crow segregation and its denial of black youth and community access to liberal rehabilitative ideals.

As a gauge of the racial politics of juvenile justice, historically and today, proportionality is limited and misleading. It misrepresents the problem of discrimination against youths, and its depiction of race relations offers no account of adult or community ties to juvenile justice systems, including the question of nonwhite representation and authority in the administration of juvenile justice. Racial group power relations have been key to the historical denial of nonwhite youth and community interests and were the primary concern in the struggle against Jim Crow juvenile justice. In my view, questions of racial group recognition in juvenile justice processes have always been more important than racial distributions of outcomes and still remain so.

Contemporary research and policy have sought to explain the dramatic and disproportionate quantitative increase of black and other nonwhite youths in juvenile and adult detention, jails, and prisons in the post–civil rights period, especially since 1980. I became consumed with the background to these developments, including the relative absence of black youths from early juvenile institutions as well as the question of how black adults experienced and shaped the development of American juvenile justice. How did enslaved and free black youths and communities relate to the nascent nineteenth-century stages of juvenile justice reform? How did black community access to juvenile justice resources and authority change following Emancipation, during subsequent periods of black reconstruction, white redemption, and Progressive Era reform? How did the Great Migration, de jure segregation in the South, and de facto segregation elsewhere shape the history of juvenile justice and racial politics of social control? Finally, how did black communities challenge and alter these racial structures, and what are the legacies or lessons of this racial history today? These basic questions emerged as my original research agenda faded and the present historical study took shape.

This book synthesizes my years spent pondering these questions, collecting relevant research material, and analyzing the complex racial history of American juvenile justice. It details the sociohistorical origins and organization of Jim Crow juvenile justice as well as the social movement by generations of black Americans to replace the white supremacist parental state with an idealized racial structure of democratic social control. The anticipated racially democratic juvenile justice system was thought to provide for equal black youth opportunity and black adult representation or authority in the administration of liberal rehabilitative ideals, enlisting the supposed manufactory of citizens in the production of a racially inclusive liberal democracy. I argue that this racial history of juvenile justice helps fill the research gaps in the historical literature and challenges much of what has been established as general institutional history. Above all, it suggests the need for an innovative conceptualization and measurement of race effects in juvenile justice today, including deemphasis of the ideal of distributive racial justice and greater attention to the deliberative interests in democratic social control at the center of the black child-saving movement.

The Black Child-Savers

Among the first places I looked for racial history was in the sociologist Anthony Platt’s The Child-Savers: The Invention of Delinquency (1969), a classic study of Progressive Era juvenile justice reform. Having read his book in college and been intrigued by its discussion of race, I thought that it might provide some figures or leads. Indeed, its appendix contains a brief and incidental but unique and compelling study of race in early American juvenile justice. The essay essentially documents the denial of black youth claims to the diminished child-criminal culpability standards of common law—the legal foundation of early American juvenile justice. Platt seeks to illustrate that children and youths were treated more leniently under common law, long before the juvenile court movement, such that this was not the main cultural or institutional significance of juvenile court reform. Yet he notes that this historical protection of youths through law appears to have been reserved for white youths. Unfortunately, however, race is overlooked in the remainder of his study and in the many others that it inspired, so we learn little about the racial identities, ideologies, and power relations of white and nonwhite youths and communities whose worlds were divided and subsequently clashed during the Progressive Era emergence of the juvenile court and Jim Crow juvenile justice.⁴

My book provides another revisionist social history of the development of juvenile justice. It thus reexamines the child-saving movement, a social movement that established various systems of juvenile social control, including juvenile justice. At the center of this analysis is the black American experience. Existing studies typically foreground Progressive Era white elites in the urban North and Midwest as well as the ordeals of white American and European youths. In contrast, I examine the distress and agency of poor, working-class, and middle-class black children, women, and men to understand the significance of race in American juvenile justice, historically and today. Although this approach has limitations—a real need does exist for a historical perspective on other nonwhite group experiences (and race studies of the white experience)—a study of this scope, with the required comparative framework, was not feasible.⁵ Yet there is good reason to focus on the black experience. Since the liberal enlightenment of juvenile justice overlaps with the final half century of chattel slavery and the subsequent periods of Emancipation, Reconstruction, and white supremacist redemption, focusing on the black experience in this evolving context of social control offers a unique view into how the historical development of juvenile justice aligned with the twentieth-century meaning of race in American liberal democracy.

This book has theoretical and methodological characteristics in common with Anthony Platt’s original work. The Child Savers challenged the standard romantic reading of Progressive Era reforms, including the establishment of juvenile justice, where power inequalities, competing group interests, and ordeals of oppression and domination were glossed over in accounts of liberal enlightenment. The Child Savers and other critical revisionist accounts of Progressive Era juvenile justice reform helped uncover the class and gender politics surrounding this institutional history, deepening our understanding of how societal power relations have shaped and been shaped by these systems of social control. My critical analysis of social control examines the parental state and the juvenile justice system as components of a contested and dynamically racialized social system in which racial, class, and gender identities and power relations constantly shape group opportunity, influence, benefits, and burdens. Like The Child Savers, this book draws on biographical details and people’s experiences in specific places to assemble a sense of their social status and existence as well as to understand how this articulates with the evolving racial structure of American juvenile justice.

Metaphorically, a quilt best represents the racial history of juvenile justice. As such, my research method seeks to identify and piece together important panels of this story about race in America. I pursued William Sewell’s notion of an evenemential, or eventful, method of historical sociology to contextualize social change. In this case, it is the rise and fall of Jim Crow juvenile justice, in relation to the historically dynamic interplay of structure, culture, and agency. The method stresses the path dependent, causally heterogeneous, and contingent nature of major sociohistorical events and places the question of how social structures are created and re-created by social action at the center of the research agenda.⁶ An eventful racial history of juvenile justice would focus primarily on the social action of black Americans. Of particular concern is the development, evolution, and impact of the black child-saving movement, a decades-long effort to restructure the racial politics of American juvenile justice. The movement began in what was the Progressive Era but also the Black Nadir—the lowest point in black social status and well-being since Emancipation. It lasted until at least the 1960s, with remnants still evident today.

Various dimensions, such as movement duration, regional concentration, strategies, and resources, distinguish the black child-savers from their more studied white counterparts. As Jim Crow juvenile justice became entrenched between 1890 and 1950, the black child-saving movement reorganized and pressed beyond the Progressive Era into the civil rights period. The movement began in the rural South, where most black Americans lived before World War II, and gradually spread, growing strongest in the cities of the North and West. Particularly noteworthy is how the black child-saving movement, as well as its influence, was shaped by historical forces unique to the black world, including the Great Migration, racial uplift ideology, the standpoint of the New Negro, organized movements for civil rights, and the postintegration period.

The black child-savers’ ability to reconfigure race relations in juvenile justice was always extremely limited. Whereas white child-savers typically enjoyed access to white government officials, industrial leaders, and other power brokers essential to advancing their civic initiatives, the black child-savers proceeded from a subordinate social position and were engaged in a conflict movement, a contentious struggle against existing racial power relations. The black child-savers operated on the margins of civil society, and their collective efficacy was constrained by the realities of American apartheid, which left its imprint on movement strategies and resources. They relied almost exclusively on black community resources (such as volunteerism and donations) and on court challenges and protests to broker typically modest reforms. The unheralded black child-savers tell an inspiring American story about the often stark but unstable and penetrable boundaries of race, citizenship, and democracy. Although they did redefine the racial politics of juvenile justice, their movement generally failed to achieve its goal of institutionalizing racial justice in the administration of liberal rehabilitative ideals.

I owe my initial discovery of the black child-saving movement to Professor Vernetta Young of Howard University. During my preliminary search for historical information, among the few published articles on the racial history of juvenile justice were two by Professor Young. Her studies revealed the persistence of an earlier pattern of white youth privilege, which Platt had uncovered. Young documented the establishment of segregated juvenile reformatory institutions, with states routinely prioritizing the creation of white reformatories, or manufactories of white citizens, while refusing to provide equivalent services, if any at all, for black youths.

Discrimination against black youths in early American juvenile justice is not surprising, but the patterns and mechanisms of this stratification are revealing as indicators of the meaning of race. Young’s articles outline the oppositional roles of black women in the establishment of early reformatories in response to black exclusion from white-only institutions. If juvenile reformatories existed for black youths, they were typically created and maintained by black adults. This illustrates the complexity of race effects when considering the objectification and agency of racial actors. I was familiar with race research that framed nonwhites as passive subjects—those suffering from race effects resulting in discriminatory sanctioning—yet these articles revealed a more complex interplay of race, structure, and agency, including potentially progressive dimensions of racialized social control.

Evidence of black community involvement in early juvenile justice reform intrigued me, so I contacted Professor Young. She generously agreed to meet with me to discuss my historical research interests and the obstacles to finding information. We met in her office, and she handed me a file containing a dozen or so photocopies of pamphlets dating to the early twentieth century, along with essays and other practical writings by members of black women’s clubs. These clubs were vital to the collective efficacy of black communities in many pursuits, such as elder and child care, education reform, recreation, and all varieties of activism. The authors were affiliated with the National Association of Colored Women’s Clubs and local Southern clubs with intriguing names ranging from the ornate Les Fiddelles Filles (The faithful sisters) of Savannah, Georgia, to the more practical Ten Times One Is Ten Club of Montgomery, Alabama, which emphasized the power in numbers. The writings concerned the crisis of Jim Crow juvenile justice. They placed black civic leaders at the scene of Progressive Era juvenile justice reform and shared their voices of opposition at the founding of the Jim Crow juvenile justice system.

After this exchange, my central research objective was to understand the content and significance of this voice and, more generally, to examine the racial politics of recognition in American juvenile justice. I spent almost a decade amassing material to accompany the voices of these women leaders. Specifically, I sought sources that offered an expansive view of the role of black civil society in the emergence of juvenile justice as well as the broader structural and cultural context of that civic engagement. My larger sample details the ideologies and resources of black Americans who organized against Jim Crow juvenile justice and for alternative racial structures of juvenile social control. From a wide array of primary and secondary source material, I gained a sense of these interventions, the contexts in which they emerged and evolved, and their social and institutional impacts. These interventions clashed, mixed, and meshed with dominant group ideologies and resources to define the negotiated racial history of American juvenile justice.

This negotiation involves a protracted struggle over the racial politics of the parental state. It constitutes a series of opposing racial projects that sought to define and redefine the meaning of race in juvenile justice and, ultimately, in American society. Two ideas of black childhood are at war in the racial projects of Jim Crow juvenile justice and the black child-saving movement. The dominant view caricatures black youths as an incorrigible, undeserving, and expendable breed of human clay, while the oppositional view frames the racialized refusal to extend rehabilitative ideals and resources as a denial of equal protection and a form of structural violence that threatens democratic freedoms. Jim Crow juvenile justice reserved institutional opportunity and influence for white youths and communities, while the black child-savers aimed to racially democratize youth access to rehabilitative ideals and community control of institutional resources. Jim Crow juvenile justice was organized to maintain white democracy and second-class black citizenship, while the black child-saving movement imagined an alternative structure of juvenile justice that could institutionalize progress toward a new multiracial and ethnic democracy. These vital interests were at stake in this nearly century-long struggle for and against racially democratic control, and they remain with us today.

Organization and Argument of the Book

Organized in two parts, this book will offer an account of this historical clash of racial projects. Part 1 covers the sociohistorical origins and organization (i.e., mechanisms) of Jim Crow juvenile justice, while part 2 examines the development, evolution, and impact of the black child-saving movement.

Chapter 1 examines the background of the juvenile rehabilitative ideal and its roots in American liberal-democratic idealism. Mainstream concerns with shaping and molding wayward, neglected, and criminal youths were explicitly linked to unease over the well-being of civil society and the fate of liberal democracy. This setting is vital to understanding why juvenile justice became an early and enduring feature in the struggle over the relation between race and American democracy.

The next three chapters illustrate how imbalanced racial group power relations, white supremacist ideology, and related institutional structures (i.e., law) dictated the administration of liberal rehabilitative ideals. A two-pronged denial of black humanity and democratic standing negated black youth and community claims to rehabilitative ideals. Black youths were rendered unsalvageable and undeserving of citizen-building ambition, while black adults were disempowered in the deliberations of a white-dominated parental state. Chapter 2 examines these developments in the context of nineteenth-century innovations, such as the use of common law in youth sanctioning and the establishment of houses of refuge. This illustrates how white racial group prerogatives and privileges shaped the administration of these earliest institutional reforms. Chapters 3 and 4 consider how black Americans experienced the invention and diffusion of the juvenile court during the Progressive Era and Jim Crow racial oppression and domination in juvenile justice during subsequent decades, with an emphasis on the South and urban North.

Because existing histories of juvenile justice fail to account for nonwhite youth experiences, their conclusions are compromised. They feature the severe mistreatment of predominately poor, white American and immigrant European youths who were subject to early juvenile court interventions and placement in reformatories, all under the banner of rehabilitative ideals. In contrast, black youths experienced ongoing commitment to adult prisons, the convict-lease system, prolonged periods in detention, and higher rates of corporal punishment and execution. Given this perspective, white youths were relatively privileged. Their hardships pale in comparison with the treatment of black youths, buffered as they were by liberal ambitions for juvenile justice reform and the related resources of emerging juvenile court communities. Above all, the contrast signals the partial mainstream commitment during the first half of the twentieth century to white citizens and state building through the administration of rehabilitative ideals.

In the second part of the book, attention shifts to black agency and its influence on the racial history of American juvenile justice. Here, I examine black opposition to Jim Crow juvenile justice systems through waves of social action by the black child-saving movement. The movement’s phases are distinguished by historical period as well as by variations in black social status, oppositional politics, and social movement resources. Chapter 5 covers the first wave of reform, which commenced in the late nineteenth century and peaked in the 1920s. This vanguard effort was led by underresourced but well-networked black women’s benevolent associations, which generally organized under the banner of racial uplift. This initial phase of intervention brought modest—indeed, cautious—self-help efforts to bear on the crisis of Jim Crow juvenile justice, through local remedies scattered across a vast and primarily southern landscape.

The modesty of the first wave partly reflected the relatively moderate ideology of racial uplift, but the economic and political inequality of the period was even more decisive. This included the risks taken in movement activity and its constrained capacity for introducing major changes in American culture, law, and politics. Still, black civic leaders in the period pooled meager resources to enhance black collective efficacy in juvenile social control, developing more inclusionary institutions for black court-involved youths, and generating black oppositional consciousness toward Jim Crow juvenile justice.⁷ For the movement, it was a capacity-building phase rather than a period of structural change.

In chapter 6, I examine the evolving oppositional politics, expanding resources, and impact of the second wave of black child-saving initiatives, which peaked between 1930 and 1954. As the black freedom movement began to take shape in the early twentieth century, emboldened black civic leaders and their allies shifted attention from modest self-help initiatives to pressure group politics. Beyond seeking to ameliorate the harms of racial inequality in juvenile justice, this advanced phase of black child-saving sought to secure equal opportunity for youth and community influence through the formal integration of American juvenile justice.

As part of the sociohistorical context for the second wave, black migration to American cities expanded the networks and resources of black child-savers. Local black women leaders with limited political and economic resources had primarily led the earlier wave in the South. The second wave, however, introduced a more diverse array of black operatives, many with formal training in law, social science, and social welfare. These race relations experts, as professional black activists were described, used their professional training, positions, and networks to document and combat the inner workings of Jim Crow juvenile justice systems.

In my view, the second wave of reform established a more formidable black surrogate parental state, a semiformal structure of juvenile social control organized to serve developmental interests of black youths and to represent black community interests. This apparatus was nationally organized in some ways, but its strength was greatest in urban locales with substantial black economic and political influence and high levels of civic engagement. By leveraging the power of the growing civil rights establishment and threatening more radical black liberation agendas, the second wave eventually negotiated the formal demise of Jim Crow juvenile justice, ushering in the modern era of liberal integration.

In the final chapter and the conclusion, I show that the black child-saving movement played a remarkable, though paradoxical, role in reshaping the racial politics of contemporary American juvenile justice by rearranging—if not eradicating—racial oppression and domination in juvenile social control. The movement aspired, not to make race irrelevant to juvenile justice administration, but rather to alter the racial contract by making the administration of rehabilitative ideals more responsive and accountable to diverse constituencies. A strategy of integration was intended to reengineer the racial politics of juvenile justice, by incorporating black youths and adult professionals into a representative system of racially democratic control. Integration was a practical way to mainstream the black child-saving initiative, that is, to institutionalize racial justice in the administration of rehabilitative ideals by including black youths and adults in juvenile justice systems.

Chapter 7 examines the changing racial politics of juvenile justice in the postintegration period (1954–70) to assess whether this agenda was realized. I compare and contrast developments in the American South, where opposition to racial integration still raged, with the unique black urban metropolis of Harlem, where black child-saving attained its most robust expression, to gauge the variable impact of court-ordered integration. In the 1950s and 1960s, sporadic signs appeared of increasing liberal experimentation with racialized social control, especially where earlier progress in establishing equal protection and representation enabled the development of a more cooperative, multiracial parental state. In New York City, for example, influential black civic leaders formulated and partly developed innovative interventions into the growing problems of delinquency. They also introduced laws and policies to protect against racial discrimination in the administration of rehabilitative ideals. Even in Harlem, of course, integration was met with persistent, though subtle, opposition. In areas of greater black marginalization, such as the battleground South, the white parental state openly continued to deny the interests of black youths and communities.

Chapter 7 shows that, despite important signs of progress early in the civil rights era, integrated juvenile justice systems ultimately showed strain and buckled under the weight of somewhat unreasonable expectations that they would institutionalize racial justice. Black child-savers envisioned integrated authorities as race relations experts who would enlighten a new, multiracial, liberal parental state. However, amid an increasingly serious juvenile crime problem and continued discrimination, formal integration appears instead to have hastened a decline of black collective identification and action around issues of juvenile crime and justice. This erosion of black collective efficacy alienated black youths and authorities in integrated juvenile justice systems, limiting the political and practical capacities to reorganize juvenile justice along new racial lines. By the late 1970s, it was clear that formal integration was, by itself, incapable of articulating or advancing black community interests in citizen-building initiatives. Ultimately, resistance to liberal integration and declining collective efficacy isolated black youths and adult authorities in crumbling juvenile justice systems and made black communities vulnerable to a shift after the 1970s away from traditional rehabilitative ideals and toward a new accountability-based agenda of juvenile social control.

The conclusion contains an account of this paradoxical and tragic reformulation of racial oppression and domination in the post–civil rights period. Formal integration reconfigured black youth opportunity and community influence in American juvenile justice, but it failed to institutionalize racially democratic control. Instead, subsequent cultural and institutional changes related to a more general late-twentieth-century retraction of the liberal welfare state drained the progressive utility of integration, reducing black youth and community incorporation to more symbolic forms of inclusion.

In contemporary juvenile justice, the accountability movement reconfigured the social contractual terms of juvenile justice and the organization of decisionmaking in juvenile justice in ways that undermined the potential for racially democratic control. New notions of deserving and undeserving delinquents limited presumptive rights to rehabilitation. In this formally race-neutral scheme, normal or malleable and less culpable delinquents are distinct from criminally responsible serious delinquents, who are not entitled to welfare. Contemporary research indicates that race predicts youth selection into one or the other status group, with nonwhite and particularly black youths systematically classified as undeserving, serious delinquents.⁸ By limiting presumptive rights to rehabilitation to the subtly racialized subcategory of normal delinquents, the formally integrated parental state prevents nonwhite youths from accessing traditional citizen-building ideals.

The accountability movement also diminished the influence of black workers and constituencies by increasing national and federal influence over juvenile justice policy and practice. This growing federal role empowered influential national citizen groups and imposed policies on the states. The result was a diminished role for more marginal black constituencies and newly integrated black authorities in the governance of juvenile social control. Juvenile courts, historically dominated by whites, enjoyed wide discretion to individualize justice, aiding discrimination. In the second half of the twentieth century, however, the imposition of federal and state priorities and procedures of accountability-based juvenile justice curtailed this authority.

Black child-savers expected formally integrated authorities of the multiracial parental state to racially enlighten citizen-building initiatives. Instead, they were bound by new limits and distributions of discretion. SDM technologies curtailed the substantive importance of diversity among arbiters of juvenile justice. Greatly enhanced prosecutorial authority and punitive juvenile laws, such as severe, mandatory sanctioning of serious delinquents, also diminished the ability of black authorities to shape juvenile court decisions and outcomes. These and other changes illustrate how the punitive reconstruction of juvenile justice eviscerated the resources available to black youths through child and social welfare while reorganizing power relations. The real value of black representation among authorities in the post–civil rights period diminished accordingly.

The quilted racial history of American juvenile justice remains only partially understood. My book examines the rise and fall of Jim Crow juvenile justice through a study of its contested cultural and institutional threads. There remains a need for historical analysis of these and other dimensions of racialized juvenile social control. For, if racial identification and stratification are to be reconciled with democratic principles of justice, we must understand how the ideas and practices of justice become intertwined with racial ideologies and structures and, ultimately, produced, reinforced, and at times eradicated racialized democratic exclusion. History is useful to this task. It illustrates how earlier race problems persist today and expands, contextualizes, and challenges our conceptualization of racial justice in an evolving domain of race relations. How was Jim Crow juvenile justice organized, how did the black child-saving movement evolve, and why does inequality persist in the promised land of integration? The answers provide a perspective on what has been achieved, lost, or not yet realized in a century of struggle toward an elusive racial democracy.

This book does not aim to solve a quintessential American dilemma; rather, it helps map the relevant mechanisms of race-linked democratic exclusion. Its primary contribution, I hope, is that it reveals that juvenile justice is a negotiated racial structure. In this actively shaped and contested racialized social system, color lines excluded black youths and communities in systems of social control but also generated progressive opposition and advanced more democratic relations. By examining this dialectic of racial oppression, domination, and antiracist resistance, the book offers a more complex and comprehensive view of how race effects have formed and functioned to diminish and affirm the democratic standing of black youths and communities in this institutional context.

Finally, this book examines how race relations are shaped by the agency of dominant and nondominant racial groups. It situates black Americans as subjects and agents within racial structures of juvenile justice. Moreover, it helps transcend earlier revisionist histories of juvenile justice, in which race is generally ignored. It also challenges the dominant notion of racial justice in contemporary juvenile justice research and policy. In particular, it suggests the limits of the predominant distributive approach to measuring and advancing equality and the need for greater attention to the deliberative dimensions of racial justice, which revolve around cultural recognition in the governance of social control. These are the central mechanisms underpinning the unjust distributional outcomes of Jim Crow juvenile justice, the progressive influence of black child-savers, and the paradox of persistent oppression and domination in the post–civil rights period. Indeed, racial justice has never hinged on proportional distributions of outcomes and will likely always depend on the balance of racial group recognition in ideally democratic institutions of social control.

PART ONE

The Origins and Organization of Jim Crow Juvenile Justice

ONE

Citizen Delinquent: Race, Liberal Democracy, and the Rehabilitative Ideal

By the eighteenth century, Western liberal societies commonly regarded children and adolescents as uniquely malleable human beings whose individual developmental potential held a distinct significance for societal fates.¹ Mainstream civic leaders generally believed that children, unlike adults, possessed the capacity to be trained or tailored to fit social norms and expectations. Child development thus required shaping and molding a normal, productive, and mature citizen before the rigidity of adulthood set in. Owing to the cultural and political link between child development and social welfare, juvenile social control became a concern for various, often competing constituencies interested in shaping the nation. That link was central to the republican idealism