A Court of Refuge by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Beacon Press

When Joelle Dylan first appeared in court, it was a difficult and emotional hearing. Joelle was twenty-two years old and had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder. She had been cycling in and out of psychiatric emergency rooms for the past several years and self-medicating with drugs. She had never been connected to a mental health center. Joelle had been charged with criminal mischief for allegedly spray-painting her neighbor’s mailbox. The arrest affidavit noted that Joelle told the police officer, “I thought the mailbox would look prettier if it matched the color of the house.” She painted it bright yellow.

As Joelle was led into the courtroom in handcuffs and shackles, I noticed her mother sitting in the front row, on the side closest to the jury box. I asked the deputy to please seat Joelle in the chair closest to her mother. Joelle was petite and appeared much younger than her chronological age. She looked dazed and tired. In any other venue, Joelle could easily have been mistaken for a young teenager.

I asked her mother to approach the bench.

When she did so, I said, “Can you take her home, Mrs. Dylan?”

“I can’t take her home, Judge,” she said in a manner that reflected a deep level of frustration and angst. “Joelle will not take her medicine. And she is out at all hours of the night. I am worried sick—I just can’t take it anymore!” After a brief pause, she added, “Joelle doesn’t comply with her treatment, and I don’t believe she ever will.”

I thought carefully about how to address Joelle’s mother. She appeared to be under extreme emotional distress.

“Mrs. Dylan,” I said, “we can’t give up on Joelle. I believe you are tired and afraid—which is more than understandable. Yet, if we don’t have hope, we are hopeless. And there’s no reason to give up on hope.”

“What can I do?” Mrs. Dylan cried. “She refuses treatment.”

“You know, Mrs. Dylan, there is a big difference between mental health treatment and engagement in treatment. In fact, Joelle has never been provided the services she needs to properly support her engagement in care. It’s not her fault,” I said.

Mrs. Dylan had been holding her arms tightly across her chest. Now she relaxed and unfolded her arms. She looked at her daughter, as she sat quietly in handcuffs several feet away from her. Mrs. Dylan’s anguish appeared to lessen, as she realized that perhaps she had expected too much of her daughter. There was no way Joelle’s mother could have known what Joelle’s needs were. If only a treatment provider had taken the time necessary to talk with Joelle and her mother to determine what type of supports Joelle would need, they would have had a guide to show them how to navigate the system and how to secure those services.

“Please, try not to blame Joelle,” I said. “She has not begun to engage in care, and we need to help her do that.”

I glanced at Janis and knew she had already established a plan to get Joelle out of jail and into a residential bed.

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