At Half Capacity

AT MENTAL HEALTH COURT last Thursday, July 23, a 32-year-old
man only wanting to be identified as “A.K.” for this article sat next
to his lawyer, Metropolitan Public Defender Liz Wakefield, in Judge
Richard Baldwin’s chambers. Wearing denim shorts and a black leather
belt with silver studs, A.K. sat with his arms crossed on the table,
leaning on them. Pursing his lips, he waited for Baldwin to speak.

“Is there anything new?” Baldwin asked.

“Yes, Your Honor,” A.K. said. “I made a mistake three weeks ago.” He
went on to say that he and his wife had gone to Bagby for a day trip.
There were people there, he said, passing around jars of whiskey and
coke. A.K. told the judge he drank some whiskey.

It was the first time A.K. had made this confession to anyone. Since
October, he has been participating in mental health court—a
program designed to divert mentally ill people who repeatedly offend
away from the criminal justice system and into treatment—because
of what he only refers to as “an incident” involving an alcohol
blackout and his wife. The result was misdemeanor charges and a
no-contact order.

Determined to quit drinking and improve his relationship with his
wife, A.K. was ashamed that he relapsed.

“I just got caught up in the moment,” A.K. told Baldwin. “I have no
excuse.”

Judge Baldwin encouraged A.K. to think about why his relapse
happened and what he can do to prevent similar occurrences in the
future.

Because of his participation in mental health court, A.K., who is
bipolar and also suffers from major depression, is participating in a
treatment program at counseling service LifeWorks Northwest. He’s also
in couples counseling with his wife. Their relationship has improved
dramatically, he says. “It’s helped us open up lines of communication
where there were none,” A.K. says.

Participants like A.K. have been able to use the mental health court
to develop a treatment plan individually designed to address issues
that may contribute to their criminal behavior, as well as to access
housing and mental health services. Since mental health court began
last September, 22 people have joined the program. According to Heidi
Grant, a coordinator with mental health court, there are 10 pending
clients.

“That isn’t very many, is it?” says Doris Minard, a mental health
advocate and past president of Oregon’s chapter of the National
Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI).

For a program that has a capacity for 75 people at one time, mental
health court is off to a slow start, diverting less than half the
people it has the capacity to assist. Many say the eligibility
requirements are too strict.

“As an attorney, I think it’s frustrating because I see clients with
a much broader spectrum of diagnoses,” Wakefield says, suggesting those
clients would also benefit from mental health court.

To participate, one must already be on probation for a misdemeanor
or non-person felony. The person must also be diagnosed with
schizophrenia, schizoaffective disorder, bipolar disorder, or major
depression. Classified as “axis one” disorders, they are the most
severe mental illnesses a person can have. Many people point to the
district attorney’s office as the reason why the eligibility
requirements are as strict as they are.

“You’re taking a culture of locking people up, particularly in the
DA’s office, and asking them to have some faith that a mental health
court can work,” says Chris Bouneff, the executive director of NAMI
Oregon. “There seems to be more reticence at this point to really open
up the criteria so you can reach a maximum number of people.”

“I think we’re getting plenty of referrals, and we’re getting new
clients every week,” says Jeff Howes, the senior deputy district
attorney handling the mental health court caseload. Howes notes that
people “with a long or a violent criminal history with a demonstrated
history of non-compliance with court orders and obligations” are not
good candidates for mental health court.

“I would have liked for there to be additional people by now,” Judge
Baldwin says, adding that momentum is gaining.

In the past two months, Baldwin has begun hosting settlement
conferences, or meetings between the judge, defense attorney, and
prosecutor of individual cases. Discussing the case and the defendant,
settlement conferences decide whether or not the defendant could
benefit from mental health court. Twelve people have entered mental
health court through settlement conferences.

“This is the only way cases are getting in,” Wakefield says.

Mental health court is also finding participants through the
probation office’s Mental Illness Offender Unit and people currently on
bench probation (a less strict form of probation not requiring a
probation officer). According to Grant, 18 people falling into those
categories are either participating or about to participate in mental
health court.

“We are steadily increasing our numbers,” Grant says. But mental
health advocates remain unconvinced.

“We expected this to be online a decade ago,” says Jason Renaud of
the Mental Health Association of Portland. “It was a program that
promised so much and has delivered so little. Hundreds of similar
programs are in operation around the country and all they had to do was
adopt the procedures of one of those, and pay for it.”