Mentally ill get day in court

Debbie Sirota's first experience with justice for the mentally ill came when she watched her schizophrenic daughter shuffle into a courtroom, hands and feet in chains.

The 21-year-old was arrested in 2007 after she violated a protection order Sirota had taken out. At the time, Sirota had no idea of the nature of her daughter's illness. The schizophrenia diagnosis came while she was in the remand centre.

"That was the defining moment that changed me forever," Sirota said Thursday afternoon as she waited for Manitoba's new mental health court to hear its first two cases.

"I've gone back to university to create change. I saw the flaws in the system."

Sirota, now a third-year social work student, sits on the WRHA's regional mental health advisory council. She lauded the arrival of the mental health court but said her experience left her with reservations.

"It's sad the mental health courts have become the new mental health system," she said flatly. "There's so much work still to be done."

Sirota became an activist after her daughter was arrested. The young woman spent six months in the remand centre despite her mother's efforts to drop the protection order and have her released.

"The Crown attorney said this was a tragedy," Sirota recounted.

The province has invested $600,000 to establish the weekly court. It will work with mentally ill offenders whose illness is the likely cause of their behaviour. The hope is that diverting mentally ill people from jails into a tightly scripted treatment plan will reduce recidivism.

Winnipeg already has a drug-treatment court operating along the same lines. People who are accepted into the mental health court will usually have committed relatively minor crimes. You don't get in unless a series of professionals agree you have a mental illness.

Thursday afternoon, Justice John Guy speedily dispatched the first two cases. A 25-year-old man pleaded guilty to two charges of simple assault on his mother. A 42-year-old man pleaded guilty to mischief and causing a disturbance.

They'll both be on a tight leash. Guy warned them they have to keep all their medical appointments, take the medicine they have been prescribed, meet their treatment team as ordered and come to court weekly to see him.

Treatment for offenders can involve substance-abuse counselling, community service and an apology to the victim. It's not a free ride. If they're not compliant, they can be sent back to the regular court system.

While court was over in less than 20 minutes, relatives of one of the accused said they hope this is finally a solution for their deeply damaged son. Their 25-year-old has substance-abuse problems, anxiety, depression and obsessive-compulsive disorder. He has clearly stretched his parents to their breaking point.

"It's been a long haul," says his mother. "He seems to be taking it seriously with the professionals this time. Time will tell, because we've been devastated in a lot of ways."

There have been problems for years. There's the weed, which he won't stop smoking. There have been lies and police visits and violence. He drinks too much and too often. They know he's ill and they haven't been able to help him.

"The problem is he thinks he can do it all himself," says his dad. "He's his own worst enemy."

No one knows how effective the mental health court will be. It was well-studied and planned. Similar courts exist across North America.

Debbie Sirota is withholding full approval for now. She knows what happens when things go wrong for a person with a mental illness.

Her daughter's doing well and living in a supportive environment. But the arrest and six months in remand marked both mother and daughter.

"My daughter now has a record for being mentally ill."

How wrong is that?

lindor.reynolds@freepress.mb.ca

Republished from the Winnipeg Free Press print edition May 11, 2012 B1