August 20, 2025
Another Brick Out the Wall: Hope for the Juvenile Justice System
By Amaya Rosser, Southern University Alumna and Louisiana Progress College Fellow
I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to have worked with Louisiana Progress in my senior year at Southern University A&M College. Being part of an organization committed to advancing equity, justice, and meaningful policy change has been both inspiring and empowering. The experience enabled me to contribute to significant initiatives while learning from passionate and knowledgeable advocates who genuinely care about the future of our state. I’ve grown both professionally and personally, and I carry forward a profound appreciation for the work being done to uplift Louisiana communities.
As I reflect on the past year of my fellowship, I find myself filled with pride and hope. In my first session, what began as a project about juvenile justice evolved into something far more meaningful. When I started this fellowship, I was drawn to the topic of juvenile justice because of my background and upbringing. Growing up in Memphis, a city where crime often makes headlines and where many young lives are lost in the cracks of a broken system, I understood from a young age that the justice system doesn’t treat everyone fairly. With both of my parents working in law enforcement, I also had a unique perspective on the criminal justice system from the inside. But I knew I wanted to explore the system not just as an observer, but as a potential changemaker.
My early research focused on the process of juvenile reentry, and what I found was disturbing but not surprising: far too many young people are released from detention without the support, guidance, or resources they need to succeed. The story of the 15-year-old boy held in solitary confinement for 24 hours a day in a Louisiana facility will stay with me for the rest of my life. No education, counseling, or rehabilitation. Just isolation.
In the second half of the year, my research turned toward the issue of financial exploitation within the adult justice system. The deeper I dug, the more I realized how our legal system continues to punish people long after their sentences end. Overpriced phone calls, expensive commissary items, supervision fees, and court costs: these hidden expenses place a crushing burden on families who are already struggling. I thought about how many people I know and how many communities I’ve witnessed weighed down by the financial costs of incarceration. It’s not just about paying a debt to society, it's about facing a lifetime of financial barriers that make true freedom unreachable.
But, again, there were sparks of hope. Maryland is eliminating parole-related debts. Virginia and Delaware are reforming court fees and offering more payment options. They showed me that reform is possible when we center the needs of people over the priorities of the system. One of the most powerful moments of the year was when Amendment 3, which would have allowed more minors to be sentenced to adult prisons, was defeated by a wide margin in a statewide popular vote. The defeat of Amendment 3 and the vigorous campaigning that preceded it prove that elections are not just a political victory; it is a message from the people of Louisiana that our youth deserve better. It reaffirmed why the work I’ve been doing matters.
Throughout this fellowship, I’ve grown not only as a student but also as a leader and as a human being. I’ve learned how to analyze policy, conduct in-depth research, and interview experts. I’ve learned that stories are powerful and they can spark outrage, inspire compassion, and drive change. Looking forward, I carry with me a stronger sense of purpose. I want to be a voice for young people who are too often silenced. I want to fight for a justice system that is rooted in fairness, rehabilitation, and opportunity.
This year has taught me that real change takes time, persistence, and courage. It has taught me that advocacy work is never easy, but always necessary. And it has reminded me that even in the face of systems designed to break spirits, hope can still rise.
