Lu believes that young people need time to mature and that education is more appropriate than punishment. Their mistakes can be overlooked, and actions taken against juvenile offenders are designed to assist, not punish. Courts assign juvenile protection officers like Lu Su-wei to safeguard children from adverse environments to give them fresh starts.
Over the course of his 17-year career as a juvenile protection officer, Lu has guided over 3000 wayward youngsters. Because of his own extraordinary childhood, Lu, who attaches a great deal of importance to his work, is more than willing to share his time with the children under his care, focusing his energies on showing them the way.
To determine the best possible "treatment," Lu carries out an in-depth study of each new case to assess the offender's physical and mental condition, family background, social surroundings, and the probability of the youngster breaking the law again. If a child did not realize what he was doing, was manipulated, or committed a crime inadvertently, then obviously, he should be let off the hook. A crime's seriousness is not the sole factor in determining treatment. Lu strives to take each youngster's situation and needs into consideration and assist them by using methods that best serve their interests.
When a youth arrives in juvenile court, the judge makes decisions on the most suitable treatment for a youngster based on the recommendations of the guardian. These include--
1. Not bringing the case to trial or ruling the defendant not guilty.
2. Delivering a reprimand and ordering the defendant to take classes.
3. Weekend counseling (three to ten sessions).
4. Three years' protective custody, reducible to six months for good behavior.
But the work of a juvenile protection officer does not end there. Treatment is really a process of assistance and education. Lu's concern for his kids is not limited to their wrongdoings. He wants to know them. What makes them tick? What's on their minds after they have committed their crimes? What kind of help do they need? How can they be helped to develop healthy minds and bodies and to return to society? "I can show them concern, how others before them have made it, make them feel positive about themselves," says Lu. "I want them to feel OK about themselves. 'The court guardian thinks I'm alright, so it must be true.' Love is the only way to give them a new lease on life."
The reason Lu Su-wei is genuinely concerned for these children and earns their trust in return stems from the unlimited support and concern his parents and teachers showed him as he grew up. Lu Su-wei was stricken with meningitis at the age of eight and, as he was not treated right away, suffered limited brain damage. Afflicted with short-term memory loss and learning difficulties, Lu did not learn to read until he was in the fifth grade. He grew up being called names like "idiot" and "moron." One teacher even kept him after school to teach him to tell time--with the aid of a cane. He was beaten until both he and his teacher were crying, but he still could not tell time. When he lowered his head and wiped the tears from his eyes, he caught a glimpse of his father hiding outside the classroom. He was crying, too.
Born to a poor mining family in 1960, Lu Su-wei's road to learning was littered with obstacles and frustrations. He practiced writing until his fingers were misshapen; he read until his vision blurred. For all his effort, he still received zeros on his tests. He transferred three times over four years before finally graduating from junior high school. It took him seven years to pass the university exam. "My parents never ever gave up on me," recalls Lu. His parents stayed by his side--no grumbling, no resentment. As long as he received some kind of score on his tests, they encouraged him because they felt that he had learned something.
He remembers vividly that day during the second semester of his third grade year when he received something other than a zero on a test. His father rushed out of the house waving his son's test paper, shouting gleefully, "My son got a "10" on his test!" He even had his wife go buy a chicken as a treat for him. One neighbor objected, "Is that the way to teach a child? What? Have you never seen marks before? What's so great about 10 points?" Lu's mother answered, "We're this ecstatic for just that reason. He has never gotten points before." The neighbor pulled out five of her son's test papers: four were marked 100%, one 90%. "I smack him once for every point under one hundred!" At which point, she hauled into him, spanking him ten times on the spot out there in front of everybody. This experience would help shape Lu Su-wei's attitude toward his work as a juvenile protection officer. He could not care less what a youngster has done wrong; he only cares about what they have done right and what they learned along the way.
One person who has been very important to Lu throughout his entire life: Lu Mei-kuei, the dean of the Taipei Municipal Teachers College Department of Early Childhood Education--and his big sister. "She decided to major in education because of me, her little brother, and my learning disabilities!" says Lu.
"I graduated second to last of my whole elementary school," Lu explains. "My sister was my homeroom teacher during my first year in junior high. She felt that I learned too slowly, so she had me sent to the special education class. It took me four years to graduate from middle school, and because I couldn't pass the high school entrance exam, I went to vocational school. I would later take the university exam five times over the course of seven years. I was eventually given extra points on the college entrance test for my stint in the military. This gave me enough points to test into Fu Jen University's Department of Social Work and the Department of Crime Prevention at the Central Police Academy. I opted for the latter." He distinctly remembers his sister crying each time she saw his college entrance test scores--even the last time when he finally tested into university. "I can see you crying when I don't pass, but why cry when I do?" he asked her. "Because I don't have to cry anymore," his sister replied exuberantly.
Lu Su-wei took a course entitled Psychological Testing during his second year in university. The course changed his life. Ma Chuan-chen, a professor to whom he feels highly indebted, had him take dozens of tests, from intelligence and personality, to aptitude and career. The results showed that Lu was nearly mentally handicapped in respect to short-term memory and learning numbers, but he was practically a genius in creative analysis, logical thinking, organization, and artistic creativity. He found out that he was not stupid; rather, he was just smart in areas different from other people. He would no longer read for quantity; he would read for effect. He graduated third in his class, and, in that same year, tested third on the Judicial Administration Protection Officer section of the Civil Service Senior Examination. He finally began to truly enjoy life and learning.
With the support and care that his parents and teachers gave him in mind, he has dedicated himself to public service as a guardian, shepherding youngsters that have lost their way and holding up his own life as a mirror to them. He counsels parents and teachers on assisting children with learning disabilities and is steadfast in his belief that "what a child can do is important, not what he cannot do," and that "we should focus on what he does right, not what he does wrong."
In the course of helping others, he has learned that "everybody makes mistakes, and, like two sides of the same coin, mistakes can impact a person either positively or negatively. A mistake can inspire a person--an offender can become a saint." Lu calls on us to find true joy in life by probingdeep into ourselves, so that we can rise above our mistakes, not wallow in them.
As a juvenile protection officer, Lu Su-wei is concerned about children and the environments that they grow up in. He participates in community education courses, such as parent growth classes, with the hope that teaching parents can help reduce juvenile delinquency.
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As a juvenile protection officer, Lu Su-wei not only cares about children, but also the environment they grow up in. Our picture shows him at a neighbourhood class to educate parents in the hope of reducing juvenile crime.