By AR, Youth Policy Fellow at Fresh Lifelines for Youth (FLY)
When I was first placed on probation at 16 years old, I was told it would last six months. That six months turned into nearly two years of instability, surveillance, and punishment—without the support I truly needed.
I understood that while my decisions landed me in this situation, I received no guidance or support on how to move past my mistakes. It took months for a probation officer (PO) to be assigned to my case, so I was never able to get a straight answer as to why my case had to be transferred from San Joaquin County to Santa Clara County—or why it took months to process. I still had to appear in court once a month for three months straight, with no one to talk through the process or reassure me that everything would be okay.
When I finally got a PO assigned, she didn’t take the time to understand my situation or my needs. Asking for help with housing resulted in my being placed on house arrest with an estranged relative whose environment ultimately jeopardized my probation.
The people in the home used drugs, so I often showed up to meetings smelling like marijuana, even though I wasn’t using. My PO didn’t ask questions—she just wrote me up.
One time, during a home visit, my PO pulled up and saw my uncle outside with some of his friends, who were gang-affiliated. I wasn’t outside with them or involved with their behavior in any way, but I still got cited for “associating with gang members.” I asked to switch to a different PO. The judge denied it, without giving me a reason.
Through all of this, probation never connected me to any resources—not for housing, not for school, not for mental health. They didn’t help me get back on track. They just watched me, judged me, and punished me. And the longer I was stuck in the system, the more I started to feel like failure was inevitable. It was like they were setting me up to lose.
I made it through, but there are thousands of youth that don’t—which is why it is crucial that the state legislature passes AB 1376. It allows a youth the opportunity to get off probation after nine months. If the court wants to extend it, the judge must find that continuing probation is in the young person’s best interest—and even then, it can only be extended six months at a time, with a hearing each time. The bill also requires that probation conditions be individually tailored, developmentally appropriate, and reasonable.
AB 1376 would’ve made a real difference in my life. It would have prevented my probation from dragging on endlessly. It would’ve required that my conditions actually be appropriate for my situation, and not based on unrealistic expectations. And it would have held the system accountable for whether it was actually helping me, not just watching me.
Probation is supposed to be about rehabilitation. It’s supposed to give youth a second chance. But my experience—and the experience of many others—is that probation often does the opposite. It makes life harder. It extends instability. It punishes youth for struggling instead of helping us heal and grow.
That’s why AB 1376 is so important. Youth on probation should leave better off than when they started—not stuck, not criminalized, not ignored. Youth should leave probation better—not worse. Let’s stop trapping young people in endless cycles of surveillance. Let’s give them the tools, resources, and opportunities they need to succeed.
AR is a Youth Policy Fellow at Fresh Lifelines for Youth. She resides in San Jose
