Junior high school student Joni Grund-mann lent her study notes to a friend who didn't return them in time for her to prepare for a test.
Rather than take the exam, Grundmann, 14, skipped class. When a truancy officer caught her, Grundmann told him she was Joni Miller. Upon finding that no such person attended the school, the officer gave her a citation for giving false identification. He also referred Grundmann to the American Fork City Youth Court instead of juvenile court.After agreeing to plead guilty, which all youth court defendants must do, Grundmann stood before a trio of 16-year-old judges. She told her story. The judges quizzed her down, deliberated and meted out punishment: three hours of community service.
"This was our first experience with it and hopefully our last," said Dan Grundmann, Joni's not-too-upset father.
Putting children in front of their peers to answer charges on minor violations is American Fork's novel way of handling juvenile problems. It keeps children's records clean and takes pressure off the clogged juvenile justice system.
The Grundmanns like the approach. "I think it's fantastic," said Vanita Grundmann. She said it's a good learning experience for both sides.
"Most of the parents have been really happy about it. I think they're pleased that their kids don't have records," said LaVon Laursen, youth court adviser.
But not all the children are excited about it.
Ryan Brown, 17, who was caught smoking in the school parking lot, received six hours of community service. His mother, Vickie Marrott, thought it was fair. Her son didn't."I thought it was stupid. Who gave the right to kids to judge us?"Brown said.
It was police Chief John Durrant. He initiated the program this year to give parents and children a forum other than juvenile court to work out their problems. Durrant said all too often the overworked juvenile court handles offenses with a letter to parents and a fine. Children aren't feeling the consequences for their actions.
"The parents are saying there's nobody to help me," Durrant said.
Since the program started in May, Durrant said, he has had several inquiries about it from throughout the country. "People are looking for alternatives," he said.
Durrant said the judges - Misty Mott, Tekoa Norby and Liz Summers - have a chance to make a difference in children's lives. "Maybe they'll get to somebody," he said.
The three girls observed actual court proceedings and took instruction from Judge John C. Backlund before taking the bench on Thursday afternoons. They believe they bring a unique perspective to the position.
"We're the same age and we know all their tricks," Norby said.
In addition to assigning work hours, the judges order offenders to write reports on the health hazards of smoking, for example, and return to read them in court. Community service could be picking up rocks at Tri City Golf Course, washing the city ambulance or painting a storefront.
The judges have also gained some insight themselves. "You learn about the reasons why kids do the things they do," Summers said.
"Actually, it makes you so you definitely don't want to get in trouble," Mott said.
Like the two 10-year-old boys who stood before the judges Thursday. A police officer caught the pair setting fire to unspent .22-caliber shells wrapped in paper towels.
Their "reckless burning" citation earned them community service, an order to list 25 possible dangers of playing with fire and this advice from one judge, "And next time don't play with bullets, OK?"