JUVENILE PROBATION OFFICER AIMS TO HELP KIDS TURN AROUND LIVES

JEROME -- If life lessons are learned by taking the right turns at
major forks in the road and coming full-circle, Mario Umana, has been
a model student.

As a juvenile probation officer for Jerome County since 2003, this
former U.S. Marine is still on a mission, using his head and heart to
guide young people back to the right path.

He knows the pressures that assault young people at every bend and
offers them options to turn their lives around before it's too late.

Big brother role

Born in El Salvador 30 years ago, Umana grew up in the Mini-Cassia
area and graduated from Minico High School. The oldest, he is
familiar with the role of big brother and uses it to his advantage
when working with young people.

"Kids need someone to turn to who will really listen," Umana says.
This is especially at a time when parents are busier and more
stressed than ever, and unfortunately, as is the case with many of
his young offenders, caught up in the drug and alcohol culture themselves.

Umana is one of three juvenile probation officers and works with 44
young offenders, primarily males between the ages of 10 and 19
involved in drug-related crimes. Most juveniles are in the system for
six to nine months, depending on the nature of their offense. The
majority of his clients who leave the system don't come back, he says.

Although the average age of his clients is 14 to 15 years, Umana has
seen children as young as 9 already heavily addicted to drugs.
Experimentation began as young as 5.

Almost 90 percent of the time, the drugs were given to these
youngsters. His green eyes darken as he remembers recalls finding
syringes on the same floor where toddlers were playing during house checks.

"Kids get scared to let us know what's going on," Umana says. "The
peer pressure is awful and none of them wants to be known as a
'nark,' especially if a family member is involved."

The offenders come from all walks of life, Anglo and Hispanic, and
living in wealth or poverty.

"Everyone and anyone can make mistakes," he says.

Any youngster has the potential to become a drug user if the stresses
are present and overwhelming enough, he warns.

Stakes raised

When he was in high school, the drug culture was pervasive. Now,
cocaine and methamphetamines have filtered not only to that age
population but down into the junior high level, as well. The only way
to break the cycle is to forge relationships with the young, their
parents and teachers, and provide a web of protection the keeps them
from being sucked down the wrong path, he says.

Umana says he's proud of the partnerships his facility and Jerome
schools have forged.

"Everyone helps each other to keep the kids on the line," he says.

Umana and his fellow probation officers work with school staff and
resource officers to form probation plans tailored for each offender.
A common requirement is keeping a C grade-point average in their core
classes, which often necessitates providing tutoring.

"We don't step on toes," Umana says. "We respect the school's system
of rules and they respect ours. If it's a school violation, the
school handles it. If it's a probation violation, we handle it."

Paths

Umana knows about paths.

He and his friends were going to sign up for the Marines together.
Yet, Umana was the only one who actually went through with the
enlistment. He served in the Persian Gulf and Korea, learned
discipline and saw a broader world.

When Umana returned in 1998, he worked for the Mini-Cassia Juvenile
Probation system. He was excited about a job where he could steer
kids clear of the land mines that had tripped up some of his former
classmates. Ironically, Umana's supervisor was his own former
probation officer when, as a junior high student, he had a brief
brush with the law.

He stayed in the Mini-Cassia office for five years until leaving it
to take his present position.

Umana continues to draw from his own past experiences to reach young people.

He knows that finances often lure young people into dangerous
lifestyles, he says. It's hard to sell teens on a minimum wage job,
advance placement courses or grueling high school football practices
when their jean's pocket are filled with $2,000 from a drug sale.

Getting young offenders involved in extracurricular activities or
tutoring is not a challenge but keeping them there is, Umana says.
Trouble with transportation and finances are often the deciding
factors, pushing teens into the job market rather than school.

He remains thankful to his parents who, although they allowed him to
work, made him tow the line after his first and only juvenile
offense. Many offenders don't have that kind of support at home, he
says. Instead, they are often encouraged to leave school to work and
help support their families.

Umana worries about those with serious drug offenses on their record
because this can keep them out of many career paths, especially in
law enforcement and the military. Gang tattoos, repeat offenses and
probation violations are all red flags to future employers. He wants
his clients to realize that if they don't turn from their present
behavior, the impact of it could be lifelong, he says.

"The number one answer is to make them want it," Umana says. That is,
helping them to see a new horizon. Without that vision, it's too easy
to stay in their present rut and never leave the circle of friends
that drag them down.