I work at a juvenile placement facility for adolescent boys. Today, while we were walking to school, one young man decided to turn around and punch the kid behind him in the face. Pretty much just because he was angry. As I was filling out the incidence report, I noticed that the teen had been diagnosed with Conduct Disorder. It made me laugh.
Currently at my facility, we have over 250 residents, all teenage boys between the ages of fourteen and twenty. If you look closely, I would guarantee that all but ten have been diagnosed with Conduct Disorder. What is Conduct Disorder, you ask? It’s classified as an adolescent disorder with chronic behavior problems. Hello—have you ever met a teenager?!
Obviously, I say that with sarcasm, because most teens have behavior problems. But when you are dealing with the population that I work with, it becomes extreme. Sixty percent of my clientele are from the “Badlands” of Philadelphia. They were born to single moms in poverty. Their dads are either not around, in prison, or dead. These kids sell drugs and carry guns. They steal your money when you’re at the ATM or break into your car while you’re shopping. This is the only life that they know, the only life that they’ve ever seen.
So I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that they are diagnosed with Conduct Disorder. Let me list for you some of the symptoms of the “disease.” They include impulsive behaviors, defiance, drug use, criminal behaviors, breaking rules, fighting, aggression, truancy, lying, vandalism. The list goes on and on. And although these things on their own would not really raise concern, after all they are teenagers, at the extreme level people diagnosed with Conduct Disorder sometimes never adapt to become responsible, productive members of society.
It makes me empathetic. These kids have made bad decisions, there is no doubt about that. And they need to suffer the consequences of their behaviors. They chose to do the things they have done. But, really, could we have expected anything else out of them? Given the environment they grew up in, given the fact that many are born to mothers who can’t read and have never worked, what else do we expect these young gentlemen to turn into? They are simply a product of their environments.
After the fight, I sat down with this kid. I explained my disappointment and frustration. I described how sometimes I felt I was wasting my time and my breath with him. I challenged him on how assaulting someone was in his own best interest or to explain how it was helping him reach his goals. This kid is eighteen, he should know better. He began to cry. This hardened criminal, this child who was playing with guns, cried. Was it manipulation? Perhaps. But I’d like to believe that he’s struggling to make the changes necessary to live a socially acceptable life. Change is not easy. I’d like to think that he’s trying. I guess we’ll see what happens tomorrow. Maybe another assault, maybe one step closer to maturity.