WHITBY FREE PRESS. WEDNESDAY. AUGUST 14. 1985. PAGE 5 "I have sworn upon the altar of God eternal hostility against every form of tyranny over the mind of man." - Thomas Jefferson THE CROW'S NEST by Michael Knell New YOA neglects parents rightful role The stupidity and utter banality of Canada's new juvenile justice system once again made news headlines last Thursday. Al of the major Toronto dailies carried a story datelined St. Thomas, Ont. concerning the ruling of Youth Court Judge J.F. Bennett which dismissed four charges of sexual assault against a 15-year old youth because his mother failed to advise him of his legal rights when he confessed his crimes to her. This has got to be one of the silliest pronouncements from the bench in Canadian history (in fact, it ranks up there with the Supreme Court decision of earlier this century which said women aren't legal persons). According to the national press, the boy confessed sexually assaulting his two step-sisters after his mother promised to find him medical and psychological help if he told the truth. The lad then confessed his crimes to his family doctor and to two psychiatrists working at a London, Ont. hospital. However, when the boy's step-father found himself unsatisfied with his progress in therapy - he reported the incidents to the police who later charged him under the Youthful Offenders Act with committing sexual assault. What really irks me about this case is that the judge held up the defense lawyer's position that because the boy's mother was a person in authority she had to read him his rights as they are laid out in the constitutions. How, in heavens name, did the judge allow himself to be lead into this sort of ridiculous folly? Yes - I agree - a mother is a person in authority, but she is not a police officer, neither is she an officer of the court. She was the boy's mother, and like all good mothers, tried to help her son. She made him face the fact that he had commit- ted a terrible wrong and then tried to help him straighten out his life. She was not behaving as a police officer - she was behaving as a mother. While the judge said in his written decision that he made his ruling "with trepidation and grave misgivings for the consequences to (the accused) and to society" he felt bound to accept defense counsel's arguement that the mothers offer of help made her "a persgn in authority" under the act. The judge also remarked that the boy "did not go to mother to confess, con- fide, or seek help. She was the one who presented authority to get something done. " Of course, she was a person who could get things done. She had to act in the best interests of all her children. She was not enforcing the law - she was behaving as a parent. Furthermore, parents are supposed to be people who can get things done for their children. When their children need help - parents are supposed to give it to them. From what I have read, the step-father must accept a lot of the responsibility for this situation. Because he was afraid that the boy's therapy wasn't helping - he acted. He brought in the police, he caused the charges to be laid. Until that point in time, surely this must be considered a family matter - out- side of the jurisdiction of the court. The mother behaved properly, she sought professional help for her son. I don't understand why the court could rule, in ef- fect, that she was not just a mother, but a police officer as well. These are two entirely different roles. In my humble layman's opinion, this ruling could create havoc in the ad- ministration of juvenile justice. What happens the next time you or I catch the neighbourhood bully group smashing windows at the local school? If we detain them for police, does this mean they will get off without punishment becaùse I don't really know what their rights under the law are? Will they again be free to vandalize the neighbourhood because I failed to discharge my duties as an of- ficer of the court? There was a time (and many pine for it to return) when a youthful offender wasn't molly-coddled. If a youngster was caught breaking the school windows by the local cop on the beat, he was usually marched straight home to his paren- ts who "boxed his ears" as my grandfather used to say. Why are we treating these children with such deference? I'm not suggesting for a minute that we break them on the rack but I am suggesting that we have let the pendulum swing to far the other way. We have to teach our children what is right and wrong. If they break the law we have to punish them - severely - so that they will not committ such crimes as an adult. Many police officers I know are privately scornful of the Youthful Offenders Act. As far as they are concerned, it creates a bureaucracy that is not primarily interested in the administration of justice but in ensuring there is no publie out- cry about cruel courts mistreating innocent children. The Bible says something about "sparing the rod and spoiling the child' . I think there's much to that. Under the law as it stands now a child could committ murder and virtually go unpunished except for three years in a reformatory. The Youthful Offenders Act needs to be changed. It needs to address the roles of parents and to become more concerned with the administration of justice and rehabilitation. Bennett's ruling could go a long way to ensuring that those goals are not reached. WITH OUR FEET UP By Bill Swan At the best of times the Don Valley Parkway resembles a forbidding hostile environment, say like the surface of Mars. But it functions. If like most of the drivers who tempt fate by travelling it you need to get from point A to point B almost every day, then time does count and the Parkway is a necessary hostility. The hostility I noticed most recently as I stood by my vechile at the side of the Parkway, watching 50 kilometre (30 mile) an hour traffic grunt by. Hood up, the car rocked mildly with each passing vehicle. I paced, enjoyed the 7 p.m. sunshine, and eyed the Canadian Automobile Association emergency phone four lanes to the east. The phone may as well have been four miles east. The traffic on the Don Valley had slowed somewhat from its usually furious over-the-limit pace. That slowly, incidentally, caused my dif- ficulty. Hot days do that to cars. Cause them to overheat, particularly in slow traffic. And if nothing else, the Don Valley enjoys a won- derful reputation for traffic snarls. Everything can be moving on pace, no snags, during any rush hour. Then suddenly, one car too many enters the fray. No accident need foul things up. Just that one car too many overburdens the capacity of the freeway and alike the wounded beast freeways often resemble -- ever listen to their roaring sounds? -- the first brake light signals the slow down. I had travelled north from downtown Toronto shortly after leaving work at 6 p.m. that night, the first two miles trouble free, followed by two miles of stop and go, and finally improved pacing of almost 50 kilometres (30 miles) an hour. That's when I first noticed the puff of steam from under my hood. A quick check of the heat gauge told me I was in trouble. Immediately I pulled over into the untravelled left lane, nearest the centre con- crete barrier. So that's how I ended up stranded at the Don Valley and Eglinton Ave., hood up, pacing, a million miles away from the emergency phone across the road. Only a madperson would attempt to dart through traffic like this. The only choice then would be to wait out the traf- fic, pace until the volume dropped sufficiently. Then, maybe, I could dart across to the telephone and call a tow truck. And, with luck, dart back and wait for help. So much for getting home before 7 p.m. Often in the past I have driven by drivers in similar plights, glad that it was not I sitting there. Now, I could see in their eyes the look that said, "Too bad, buddy, you should keep your car in better shape." But it's hard to think sweet thoughts of urban people when you are sitting beside the Don Valley traffic, hood up, waiting. I had gotten to the point of cursing urban drivers for their uncaring attitude, their selfishness.... When a pickup truck darted out of the moving lane and pulled up in front of me. "Trouble, buddy?" "I think," Isaid, "l'm just out of water." "Then you're in luck," he said, jumping out of the truck, both feet landing together. He reached into the back of the pickup, pulled out a plastic bottle usually used for windshield wiper fluid. "Just happen to have a little here." He held up the jug. I took off the radiator cap, he poured, and thirty seconds later 1 was started up and ready to go. "How much," I said, "do I owe you?" "Nothing for a little bit of water," he said. "Just pass it on." Which is why I drive a bit differently these days. I watch for other drivers in trouble. If you find your- self pulled off to the roadside one day, hood up, it just may be me who pulls up behind you, offering help. l'Il call a tow truck for you, maybe, or help you fetch gas, or if you're lucky l'Il have a little water in a plastic jug that will get you going. And when you ask me, "How much?" l'Il just say, "Pass it on." Then who knows, the next time I'm at the road- side, you'll pull up behind me and...