Secret Pasts Though They’ve Paid Their Debt To Society, It’s Not Easy For Juveniles Convicted Of Crimes To Leave Their History Behind

Kelvin Thomas seems to have put his past behind him. He is busy building an impressive resume. UC Berkeley graduate. Student with a full-time job. Fulbright scholar. Speaker to high-risk youth on the benefits of education.

Yet there is one thing that he will probably leave off any future job applications - “unless asked, of course,” he says. Something that will probably surprise many who know him. Thomas - the anthropology student with the 3.83 grade-point average, the president of the University School Cooperative Association - has a criminal past.

“I’ve told a couple of people, and they have been shocked,” says Thomas. Only a few friends know about his record - a former girlfriend, his roommate, a teacher. “They couldn’t believe it, and I was ashamed for a long time… . But I figured that if people wanted to know who I am, they had to know where I have been.”

Where he has been, at least for much of his youth, is in state correctional facilities. Thomas, now 28, was locked up for a number of years. At 13, he was convicted of his first assault. At 16, he participated in a drive-by shooting.

During his incarceration, he completed his high school education and took courses through a Southern California community college that offered classes for inmates. At 25 - after serving a total of seven years - he was released.

The young criminal was now an aspiring college student. He gained admission to the University of California, Berkeley. He graduated in December with honors and was recently awarded a Fulbright research grant to study the economic system in the Philippines. He leaves for the Philippines in June.

Thomas says his criminal days are history. “I was stupid, and I made a lot of mistakes,” he says over the phone from his home in the San Francisco Bay Area.

“But I don’t believe I should have to pay for it the rest of my life. I’ve worked hard to turn around my life. I was a different person then.”

Is it possible for a juvenile convicted of a crime - especially a violent crime - to put it behind him or her? Thomas would like to. So would Gina Grant.

Grant, 19, learned last week that paying her legal debt is one thing. Getting people to forget is another. When she was 14, Grant killed her mother with a candle holder. She claimed abuse. The prosecution called it coldblooded murder.

After serving six months for manslaughter in a juvenile facility in South Carolina, Grant moved to Massachusetts and started a new life. By all accounts, she has been a model citizen. Outstanding student, volunteer and employee.

The Boston Globe’s Sunday magazine featured Grant in a recent story about students overcoming tremendous odds. The article said Grant’s father died of cancer in 1987. Her mother, she said in the article, died in circumstances “too painful” to talk about. She did not mention that she killed her mother.

Shortly after the article appeared, someone sent newspaper clippings on Grant’s past to Harvard University, where she had been offered early admission, and to the magazine. Harvard rescinded her acceptance.

In a statement last week, Grant said she was “deeply disappointed” by Harvard’s action. She said she has paid for her crime and believes “that the promise of the juvenile justice system” is a fresh start.

Most people who are punished for crimes in their youth do get a clean slate. A fresh start. In many states, their records are sealed. Sometimes, though, their past comes back to haunt them, either because of the nature of the crime or the status they later achieve.

“Home Improvement” star Tim Allen, Olympic gold medal winner Tommy Moe, mystery writer Anne Perry and former heavyweight boxing champion Mike Tyson are just a few who find that the spotlight on their success also draws their transgressions out of the shadows.

There is no way of knowing who is going to go on to lead a responsible, productive life. “Who is going to make it? You never know. About half will probably end up back in a correctional facility,” says Melissa Sickmund, senior research associate for the National Center for Juvenile Justice in Pittsburgh.

“It’s not easy” for young offenders to turn their lives around, says Sickmund. “The barriers can be tremendous. The key is in the rehabilitation program. Most programs for juveniles feature counseling of all kinds, from psychological counseling to drug treatment programs.

“It is expensive, but are we going to give up on 14-year-olds?”

Some of those 14-year-olds can be dangerous. David Sams, program administrator for the CYA in Sacramento since 1966, remembers when young people were sent to the state institutions for running away or shoplifting.

The rise in violent crimes committed by young people led to a new state law, which took effect in January, that says 14-year-olds can be tried and convicted as adults under certain circumstances.

It costs an average of $31,000 a year to keep a young offender incarcerated. Those who argue for focusing on rehabilitation, rather than relying on repeated incarceration, often cite such figures. Not only is rehabilitation right, they argue, it is cheaper. Turn a youth such as Gina Grant around, for example, and she qualifies for Harvard.

But that argument is something many victims can’t bear to think about. “Victims are generally affected by the crimes for the rest of their lives,” says Kerry Martin, Victim/Witness Program coordinator in Sacramento. “Sometimes, if the perpetrator is a juvenile, it only increases the victim’s sense of hopelessness because sometimes the punishment doesn’t seem to fit the crime.”