Last year, PBS aired an insightful documentary called Tribal Justice, which followed two female Native American judges working in collaboration with the California legal system to use more traditional ways to deal with Indigenous offenders.
For those wanting an understanding of how the First Nations court opening in Prince George in March might work, visit the film's website at pbs.org/pov/tribaljustice/. Naturally, there are local residents concerned about the special treatment First Nations people supposedly get from the Canadian justice system. "You do the crime, you do the time" is the common refrain, regardless of your racial heritage.
Yet this refrain, with its focus on the crime and not the criminal, exposes what is exactly wrong with the Canadian and American justice systems in their current forms. Crimes are reduced to mathematical formulas, regarding the amount of the fine or the length of time in jail, rather than a focus on the individual and how to keep that person from reoffending.
In both the United States and Canada, the intention of tribal or First Nations courts is not to dodge personal responsibility for crimes but to find ways to change lives and keep people out of jail.
As the Tribal Justice film shows, offenders are brought back in their communities, where they are answerable to numerous individuals, from elders and employers to social workers, addiction councillors and friends and family, for their whereabouts and their activities. Progress monitoring and oversight is extensive and continuous. For those who stray from the path, they are returned to the state penal system.
That's roughly how the First Nations court in Prince George will work, as well, following what's already in practice in five other B.C. cities.
The Anglo-Saxon tradition of justice treats criminals as a form of disease. They are removed from their communities and kept in isolation from the rest of society. The community washes its hands of the problem but then wonders why people coming out of jail have such difficulty reintegrating into society.
Restorative justice programs, which are common in Native American culture, as well as many others around the world, keep their criminals much closer. If it take a village to raise a child, it also takes a village to save a criminal. Along with plenty of professional support, offenders rely on their loved ones to help keep them clean, stay out of trouble and become good people, good parents, good employees and law-abiding citizens.
Last August, The Citizen profiled Kenneth Brian Tylee, a Fort St. James man whose life was changed as the result of a Gladue report, an alternative sentencing opportunity that has been available to First Nations individuals across Canada for more than 15 years.
After spending significant time in and out of jail in Vancouver and Prince George, Tylee returned home to Fort St. James to live with his brother under the terms of his Gladue report. Tylee beat his addictions, reconnected with his extended family and became a councillor and mentor for troubled First Nations youth in the area.
For those who fret about the high cost to taxpayers of keeping criminals in jail, Tylee's Gladue report spared Canadians the expense of a 12-year jail term, along with all of the related court fees for lawyers and judges.
Unfortunately, Gladue reports in Canada are rare due to - what a sad irony - inadequate funding for the relatively low cost of drafting a report that includes a full biography of the individual, a thorough assessment of the personal and professional resources available to aid the offender and a comprehensive action plan going forward, which includes what will happen if the plan fails and the individual must be incarcerated.
Both Mike Morris, the Liberal MLA for Prince George Mackenzie, the former public safety minister and solicitor general, as well as a retired police officer, and Supt. Warren Brown, head of the Prince George detachment, offered unconditional praise for the First Nations court.
Both men have a professional understanding of the social and cultural issues Indigenous individuals face, which contributes to a group that only makes up five per cent of the population taking up 25 per cent of the spaces in provincial jails.
While Brown points out that First Nations courts are not a magic fix for such a deep problem - as the Tribal Justice film shows with a heart-wrenching example involving the nephew of one of the judges - he's certainly open to anything that could help reduce crime and the number of frequent offenders.
Not only does Morris reject the depiction of First Nations courts as special treatment for Indigenous people, he would like to see restorative justice systems expanded to include everyone that shows the potential to turn their life around.
Jails shouldn't be the first option for anyone who has stepped out of line, regardless of their ancestry. Rather, it should be the last resort, reserved for individuals - again regardless of their ancestry - who have exhausted every community rehabilitation effort made on their behalf.
Offenders would still be doing the time for their crimes but if time back in the community instead of time behind bars is the first step on the path to redemption, that's a step everyone should support.
-- Editor-in-chief Neil Godbout
