Scott County Treatment Court offers second chance to drug users

Prior Lake American

For the past two years in the Scott County District Courthouse, a yellow Labrador named Ellie Mae has sat politely in one of the courtrooms on Mondays, a bone-shaped tag hanging on the collar around her neck.

She’s not on trial — Ellie Mae, who is more white than yellow, is owned by Court Reporter Debbie Peterson. The dog attends the Scott County Treatment Court to provide emotional support to program participants.

“When people come in and are nervous, and let’s say they’ve used and they know there’s going to be a consequence, they get stressed out,” said First Judicial District Judge Christian Wilton, who is one of two judges that presides over the treatment court. “That dog will never judge. That dog is happy to see everybody. The participants definitely calm down a bit.”

Ellie Mae is the canine component of a large team of law enforcement, judges, attorneys, therapists, probation officers and others behind the Scott County Treatment Court.

The court began in October 2016 to combat rising heroin and methamphetamine use in the county. The program has 25 current participants.

Drug treatment courts in the United States began in 1989 to address the crack cocaine epidemic. There are now more than 3,500 drug courts across the country, including Scott County’s, that aim to end substance abuse through frequent court hearings, probation, curfew checks, drug testings, chemical dependency and mental health treatment, skills programming, incentives and sanctions.

It’s an all-angles, all-hands-on-deck approach requiring involvement from multiple departments in the criminal justice system as well as behavioral health experts.

“When you get a group of professionals that are in it for the good and are willing to do whatever it takes, not just from 8:30 to 4:30, that’s what makes this successful,” Wilton said.

High risk, high need

Only some can join the program. People who have committed violent crimes, such as those involving a firearm or force against another person, are not eligible to participate. Participants must also enter a guilty plea or admit to a probation violation.

In addition to these requirements, participants must be deemed “high risk, high need,” or the most likely to reoffend, , Scott County Community Corrections Director Tim Cleveland said.

Criminal history, age the participant first came into contact with law enforcement, chemical dependency needs and other factors are assessed to place the participant into one of four categories based on high or low risk and high or low need.

“They need to be high risk in terms of their probability to reoffend and high need in that they need to be in high need of either chemical dependency or mental health services,” Cleveland said. “All treatment courts around the country, through years of research, have determined we’re most effective with those high risk, high need individuals.”

Those who pass the requirements must make the choice to participate; the court is intensive and lasts about two years.

“We make sure they are where they are supposed to be,” Wilton said. “We drug test them often, we curfew check them often, we help them with their mental health, help them with their addiction, and we work on stable living. We try to get everything cleared up ... so when they get out of our program, they are taxpaying individuals who will help our community.”

Participants take drug tests at least twice a week. Each night after curfew, participants could receive a visit from a police officer — that participant is expected to respond to the knock no matter the time of night.

All the face-to-face time means the police officers are building relationships with the treatment court participants, said Shakopee Police Sgt. Jamie Pearson, who is the law enforcement liaison for the treatment court.

“Prior to treatment court, we were the bad guys,” Pearson said. “We’re trying to be the exact opposite of that for the people who are in this program.”

Pearson said participants she visits in Shakopee have her cellphone number and have called her for a ride to the drug testing location or to confiscate drugs that were purchased but not used, or even to chat.

“I’ve taken drugs out of their home and not charged them with a crime because they’re being honest,” Pearson said. “We give them the benefit of doubt in moments like that. ... It’s certainly not a free pass. If they’ve committed a crime, we’re going to arrest them. Some of the people I’ve built strong relationships with I’ve also arrested and brought to jail.”

There is also a probation officer who monitors the participants. Whereas a regular probation officer might have a case load of 300 to 400 people, the treatment court has one probation officer, Betsie Niebes, for the 25 participants.

Niebes said she is in communication with everyone in the participants’ lives, including law enforcement, therapists, family members and employers.

“At our job, it’s hard to be effective with drug addicts if you’re not supervising them closely and don’t have immediate interventions,” Niebes said.

Court participants also complete chemical dependency and mental health treatment through The Haven, an outpatient residential treatment facility with a location in Shakopee.

About 50 percent of people who experience a mental illness also will experience a substance use disorder, according to the National Institute on Drug Abuse.

Hearing from other people who abuse drugs or alcohol and about their reasons allows the participants to open up and address the addiction, Haven Program Director Tim Groth said.

“When clients start hearing a common message or a common theme, it relaxes them and helps them with their (mental illness),” Groth said. “They see it’s not necessarily solved, but it normalizes their issues. They’re no longer alone. They can experience and talk with other people in regards to what is going on in their life.”

The impact

Treatment court fills a need that the traditional court system does not when it comes to addressing mental health, said Will, who is the father of Laura, a graduate from the treatment court. The names of Laura and Will have been changed at the request of the family to protect the identity of Laura.

“We need to do a better job of addressing mental health and addiction issues as a health care issue, as a disease of the brain,” Will said. “It’s a psychological issue ... and we’re still trying to address it through the criminal justice system.”

To graduate from the Scott County Treatment Court, participants must complete five phases, each of which has goals for completion which could include being sober for a certain amount of time, regularly completing drug testing, finding a job or going through counseling.

About 75 percent of graduates will not be arrested for at least two years after completing drug court programs around the country, according to the National Association of Drug Court Professionals.

The Scott County Treatment Court has had four participants graduate so far, including Laura.

“I was given a second chance,” Laura said. “I was given the second chance I needed. I was so ready to make changes and be better and be happier.”

The treatment court has impacted more than the lives of the participants — it’s also impacted the lives of the team running the court.

Pearson said the experience she has remembered the most was developing a relationship with one of the participants who, when she entered the court, was pregnant.

“Knowing that I had an impact on her and she successfully delivered a healthy baby as a sober mom — we haven’t been at this for long, but so far that’s been the most memorable thing I’ve done,” Pearson said.

The treatment court can also be a respite for police officers “overexposed” to the egregious side of society, said Prior Lake Police Chief Mark Elliott, who serves on the steering committee for the treatment court.

“Being able to see the positive side of that, and see the work they’re doing is making a positive difference — that’s a positive thing for them and one of those things that helps them remember why they got into it and why the work they do makes a difference,” Elliott said.

The first graduates validate the work put into the treatment court, court coordinator Heidi Kastama said.

“What drives me is the accountability and the structure and the chance to see people change,” Kastama said.

Pearson said she has found her passion in the court.

“In this job, there’s enough negative that we deal with, so working with these people and seeing the success we’ve seen with some of them — it’s extremely rewarding to know I’ve put all this effort into you, and look where you are now,” Pearson said.