AUTHOR’S NOTE
In 1996 I was elected a judge of the county court of Broward County, Florida, the Seventeenth Judicial Circuit, and my term formally began in January 1997. Chief Judge Dale Ross (now retired) assigned me to the Criminal Division. On June 6, 1997, he signed the administrative order that established America’s first mental health court.1 This order recognized the essential need for a new system of justice to focus on individuals with mental health disabilities, arrested for misdemeanor offenses and the need for appropriate treatment in a therapeutic environment conducive to wellness (not punishment) as well as continuing to ensure the protection of the public.
Further, to help defendants who desire such treatment, the order recognized the need for a judge with expertise in the field of mental health and therefore possessed the needed understanding and ability to expeditiously and efficiently move people from jail into community mental health care, without compromising the safety of the public.
For the first time in the United States, a specialized problem-solving court was dedicated to the decriminalization of people with mental health problems and to use the court process to link individuals with community-based mental health care, from a recovery-oriented perspective.
Per the order, the court is part-time; technically it is a subdivision of my Criminal Division, so I preside over both a traditional criminal division and the mental health court. The administrative order provided that the court would be voluntary. Its jurisdiction would include all misdemeanor offenses, except driving under the influence and domestic violence offenses. The order also denoted that “battery cases could be accepted, with victim’s consent.” Defendants who may access the court included those with psychiatric diagnoses included in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, fourth edition (commonly known as the DSM-IV) as well as neurological and cognitive disorders such as traumatic brain injuries, dementia, intellectual disabilities, and learning disabilities.2 The court’s ability to respond rapidly to an individual’s clinical treatment needs required that the court referral process be open and consumer-friendly. Anyone could refer a case to the court, and the docketing was spontaneous to allow cases to be heard in court without delay.
The mental health court is dedicated to decriminalizing those who suffer from various psychiatric conditions and diverting them from the criminal justice system into a context appropriate to their challenges. The administrative order granted me authority over the planning, design, and operational components of the court. Much of the court’s design, values, philosophy, and diversionary structure is based upon my prior training in my position with the Advocacy Center for Persons with Disabilities (now Disability Rights Florida), in a dual role as PAIMI attorney (under the Protection and Advocacy of Individuals with Mental Illness Act of 1986) and plaintiff’s monitor in the federal class-action suit related to South Florida State Hospital. This class action was filed in response to the lack of care and treatment for those confined to South Florida State Hospital. The complaint alleged that residents did not receive even minimal care and that the conditions of the hospital were physically and emotionally debilitating. The case was settled in 1993 with a focus on improvements to the hospital and individualized discharge planning for those returning to the community.
Even though I was a new judge, at the time the mental health court was established I was appointed because of the skills and experience I had acquired in this unique position. When I was elected judge, at my investiture ceremony I was introduced by my former boss, Circuit Judge Marcia Beach. Judge Beach was the executive director of the Advocacy Center for Persons with Disabilities. She was a fierce advocate of persons with disabilities. When Judge Beach passed away in 2016, the tribute written by the reporter Carol Marbin Miller eloquently expressed the judge’s path-breaking role: “The woman who changed how disabled people are treated has died.”3 Judge Beach was an advocate of human rights in every aspect of her personal and professional life. She was a tireless advocate for persons with disabilities and demonstrated a passion for human dignity, social inclusion, and leading social change. Judge Beach believed in trial by fire—and believed in me. Consequently, I have always looked upon my appointment to the mental health court as a serendipitous acknowledgment of her legacy and her role as my mentor.
Since that historic juncture in 1996, the insights and lessons learned through the lived experiences of mental health court participants, their families, and their extended families has improved the culture of our court system. It has helped to change minds and attitudes about mental illness and how we think about mental health as a whole. The stories shared in this book reflect actual case histories, but names, identities, and some facts have been altered to protect confidentiality. There are, however, some exceptions: Kathryn Steeves, who graciously agreed to be interviewed for this book, and a few individuals who appeared in the court who have passed, including Jack Kuhn and Seth Staumbach, discussed in chapter 5. I hope that my recounting of their experiences in the mental health court honors their lives and their noble contributions to our community and society.