By Rev Chris Bennet – part of a series of articles aimed at encouraging debate on the age of criminal responsibility in Northern Ireland and supported by the Centre for Children’s Rights at Queen’s University Belfast.
I’m part of the team at Greenisland Parish Church, a friendly wee congregation on the outskirts of Belfast. I admit – our church building isn’t looking its best these days; the gaping holes in the roof, and the pile of rubble where a parish hall used to be, aren’t doing it any favours. We’re now a year and a half from our dark night of the soul, when the whole place went up in flames when we’d just had an amazing weekend celebrating the church’s 70th birthday. As the flames filled the sky and the whole village ground to a halt, hundreds of people crowded around watching the firefighters frantically trying to get it all under control. There were a lot of tears. Lifetimes of memories of our best days (and our worst days) were wrapped up in that place, and it was burning down in front of us. The air was filled with smoke and rage. Who could do something like this?
In the coming days we got our answer – and it shook us. The fire had been started by three boys aged 10 and 11. They had been mucking around setting the bins on fire, and the blaze had got out of control. Right from the start, it was their ages that knocked the breath out of us. All the rage and fury and retribution that had been crackling within us when we thought the fire had been started by adults – suddenly, this was something different. They were just kids. That doesn’t diminish the destruction and the hurt they had caused. But – 10 and 11 years old. It’s hard to get your head around the consequences of something like this for someone that age. It’s hard to see if there’s any right way to react.
The leader of the church, Rev Isy, encouraged us to respond with grace and forgiveness. It wasn’t easy or even possible for everybody, and it still isn’t. These things don’t happen overnight. But two things made all the difference. One was their age – 10 and 11. Who hasn’t done something stupid at 10 or 11? And the other thing – the one that really blew me away – was getting to know them.
A few months after the fire, I was asked to help out with some very special DIY sessions. The decision had been taken to enter the three lads into a Youth Justice Agency programme where they got to know us, and we got to know them, as we joined together doing some DIY projects to help out the church and the shop that we run in a portacabin out the back. We were all a bit nervous going into the process. With a team of other volunteers from the church, we got stuck into some simple practical jobs – painting, fixing, planting, cleaning, delivering flyers, designing signs. We built and painted bird boxes and market carts. We just got to know each other in the way you can only do with time and patience and a shared challenge and a sense of a job well done.
As the weeks went on, I started to really enjoy the sessions. After the initial awkwardness, we started to laugh together. We got to know their stories and learned a wee bit about their lives. And, to my great surprise, after a while we were even able to talk about that night when the fire leapt from the bins to the roof and they started to realise the terror of what they had done. And in between the deep and meaningful chats, and the days when we just worked away and even made fun of each other, I started to realise this one simple, incredible truth: I really liked them.
The justice agency sessions have now come to an end, and the lads have their whole lives in front of them. I don’t know what happens next. But, now that I actually know these three guys, and know their personalities and dreams, their stories, the challenges and struggles they face, I’m left with lots of questions. What is best for them?
One quick thing – I do think the important question is, ‘What is best for them?’ – not ‘What is best for me (or any of the other people who were affected by what they did)’ – I don’t think that any healing or justice or future comes from wanting the boys to suffer as some sort of medieval atonement. ‘What is best for me?’ is a whole other question with a whole range of possible answers – pretty much all of them much healthier if revenge and punishment are taken out of the equation. So, ‘what is best for them?’ remains.
How does it help them to be marked as a criminal at the age of 10 or 11? What does that do to their identity, just as it is forming and emerging and clarifying in their teenage years? Is there any good outcome from them being entered into the criminal justice system at that age – who would they meet, who would their role models be, how could they dream of a future and a life that doesn’t have this big black mark hanging over them?
One thing I’ve noticed when chatting to people about all of this, is that almost everyone has a story about doing something stupid at around that age. One guy told me about the day, as a little boy, that he thought it would be hilarious to light his dad’s newspaper on fire as he sat reading it in the living room. Thankfully, his dad reacted fast enough to shove the burning paper into the fireplace, and the flames didn’t catch on the carpet or the curtains or any of the hundreds of things that could have turned a stupid prank into a disaster. I think he was grounded for a week for that stunt – talk about a close shave. Loads of us have stories like that – and I think we could all ask ourselves the question, what would have happened if I had been the unlucky one and my mistake had got out of control, had really hurt people? How would I have wanted to be treated? Wouldn’t I have deserved a second chance?
If children can be criminalised from as young as ten years old, I can easily imagine how that stigma would stay with them for the rest of their lives. So I hope our story can be heard now, more than ever. Because within the next couple of weeks, MLAs in the Northern Ireland Assembly may well be voting on whether to raise the minimum age of criminal responsibility from its current low age of ten. That would make solutions like the one we found more possible. And it might just create even more hope for a better future for everyone.
The whole experience has left me with more questions than answers, in lots of ways. But there are some things I can definitely say. I’m really glad I got to meet those wee lads. I really enjoyed getting to know them. It’s changed my life, I think. I’m really glad that they got to know us, and got to ‘do their time’ in a more creative, more personal way than criminal prosecution. I know some people think they got off too lightly. And I know my story is unique and my conclusions don’t fit every situation. But those wee lads have given me hope.
The age of criminal responsibility in Northern Ireland is 10 years old. It remains one of the lowest in Europe and around the world. Organisations such as the Children’s Law Centre, Include Youth, NIACRO, VOYPIC, NICCY and CiNI are calling for the age to be raised to 16 in line with UN recommendations.
Further information and resources for this issue can be found at the Ten is Too Young Coalition website.
Read the first post in this series here
Read the second post in this series here
Read the third post in this series here
Read the fourth post in this series here
Read the fifth post in this series here
Read the sixth post in this series here.
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