A SHOUT IN THE DARK? : JOURNALIST SEES NEED FOR REFORM OF JUVENILE COURT.

Byline: Juli Michaud Special to the Daily News

Edward Humes became interested in the juvenile court system as a young reporter.

``I'd have to wangle my way in ... and it would inevitably be some heartbreaking story,'' said Humes.

So the Pulitizer Prize-winning journalist went to the courts and convinced them that it was in both the children's and the public's best interests to get the information out about the mechanics of the juvenile justice system.

Humes was given unrestricted access to Los Angeles Juvenile Court by former Presiding Judge Marcus O. Tucker.

Beginning in January 1994, Humes spent a year observing and researching this country's most private inner sanctum. The resulting book - ``No Matter How Loud I Shout'' (Simon & Schuster; $24) - is a moving and informative chronicle of his experiences.

Humes said he wanted to ``bring readers inside this secret world - this place that we normally don't get to see.''

While the court order got him in the door, Humes said it took the courage of many people to help him get the word out.

Because of the confidentiality laws protecting minors, the public usually only hears about the outrageous cases that make the news.

More often than not, Humes noted, if the system had ``behaved better, more responsibly or had gone the extra mile, the kid who was in the news would not be headed to prison.

``Most people don't know how common a phenomenon that is because the system is so closed.''

Humes said that despite the efforts of a handful of dedicated judges, probation officers and others employed by the court, the system just didn't seem to be working.

Humes became even more exposed to the personal side of the juvenile system when Sister Janet, a nun working with boys at Juvenile Hall, asked him to teach a creative-writing class to the High Risk Offender Unit. The class took on a life of its own and there are alternating chapters in the book telling the stories of these troubled teen-agers.

``It was amazing to see these kids really supportive of one another, and gently criticizing in a very civilized way. To see these kids who could pick up a gun and not be afraid just hyperventilate and blush and break out into a sweat at the thought of reading their story aloud ... and the images that would come up were so touching.''

However, he added quickly, some kids are so hardened that ``they need to be restrained. I think it should be done humanely. I think we should try, if they're kids, to do something to make them better people when they come out, but I'm not confident we can do it.''

Humes said that while adult violent crime on the whole seems to be going down, juvenile crime is rising dramatically and the Justice Department predicts it will double by the end of the century. More and more teens are being tried as adults, but Humes sees this more as a failure of the juvenile court than anything else.

``They're giving up. Juvenile court is not working, so (they) send them to adult court. If that's what we're doing as a society, then we really have given up.''

A huge part of the problem, said Humes, is that the courts are creating criminals by not reaching kids sooner. In Los Angeles, it's a misdemeanor for a teen-ager to steal a car or rob a home. Possessing a gun - as long as you don't shoot it - until recently was a misdemeanor unless it took place on a school campus.

``Wave a gun on the other side of the school campus - misdemeanor. Walk inside - felony. Go figure,'' said the author with an ironic, yet slightly distressed tone.

But these so-called minor offenders usually get caught four to five times with no consequences, he said. They might not see a judge for that long because of the overburdened system and are likely to go home on probation, where all that is required of them is a call to their probation officer once a month. Since the officers are usually operating with crushingly large case loads (up to 200 kids), the only way they know something is wrong is if a kid is rearrested.

Humes insists that ``we're just waiting and daring these kids to commit more serious offenses and then we act. This is not a liberal vs. conservative issue - this is a public safety issue.''

His observation is that more time must be spent on the 12-, 13- and 14-year-olds just entering the system who are being ignored at the expense of the older offenders (who constitute about 16 percent of the offenders) that commit the ``lion's share'' of the crimes.

``You can't sit there day after day and watch those kids go through the juvenile court and think of them as monsters,'' Humes said. ``They're not all monsters and most of them are just kids who need help. Most of them haven't even done anything that bad yet that they can't be turned from that path.''

As for the impact the book has had, Humes has been contacted by committees from both houses of the state Legislature, which are holding hearings in April on revamping the juvenile justice system in California. There are a number of competing proposals before the committees and their members are ``all reading the book, apparently,'' he said.

The author reluctantly admits to receiving any personal gratification by helping to effect positive change of any kind. But still, he seems pleased with this turn of events:

``It's an odd position to be in for a journalist because I want to be careful not to become an advocate for any particular position, other than I will say that I advocate meaningful reform of the system rather than abandonment of it. And I don't think anyone who spends any time watching juvenile court could come to any other conclusion. I don't care what their particular political agenda or beliefs are.''

Despite the juvenile system's seemingly insurmountable problems Humes wants people to know that ``there is hope. The system can be fixed. Right now we're at a crossroads in California and many other states. We can't just throw up our hands and lose a whole generation.''

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Photo: (1--2) Pulitzer Prize winner Edward Humes spent a year observing the juvenile court system in Los Angeles before writing ``No Matter How Loud I Shout.''