The high school drop out rate for American Indians is almost twice the national average. Educators in Flagstaff have tried to turn that trend around. And they’ve had some success at a place you wouldn’t suspect -- the Coconino County Juvenile Detention Center. Most of the kids who wind up there are Native American or Latino.
When Jay was caught doing meth at 15, he didn’t think he’d live past 19.
"The person who caught me told me I looked half dead," Jay said. "I remember telling her she should’ve let me die because I didn’t see my life clean."
Jay, who didn’t want to use his real name, said he couldn’t see past the drug.
"I loved it," he said. "It was like the greatest rush I ever felt all in one bowl y’know. I loved that I didn’t have to eat. I loved that I didn’t have to sleep."
When he was locked up, he weighed 108 pounds. Now 17 and clean, he weighs 160 pounds. After a year and a half in treatment, he can say with confidence he’s changed.
"I feel happy being able to say I’ve been clean over a year now," Jay said. "I look healthy. I look happy. They’ve seen me the staff that’s been here they know how bad it was."
When a teenager like Jay is arrested, he goes to school inside the jail where students get a lot of individual attention.
Bryon Matsuda directs the facility.
"Our facility is a 44-bed capacity facility," Matsuda said. "Thankfully we don't have that many."
In his 38 years working juvenile corrections, Matsuda has learned it’s not about isolating the kids and making them suffer.
"Our kids can’t learn if they don’t feel safe," he said.
In fact many of the kids are better able to focus here because they don’t have to worry about food, shelter and clothing. The students, dressed in bright orange, sit at long tables in a fairly typical classroom setting. They work one-on-one with the teacher and other detention staff on math problems. The class is made up of mostly teenagers at varying abilities. They are often two to five grade levels below their peers.
Juvenile sentences are only a few weeks, so the staff has a small opportunity to make an impact on kids. But Matsuda says when they leave the detention center, many stay in school. In fact, 80 percent are more likely to graduate.
"Our payoff, our pay days are when kids get better," Matsuda said. "And when you have a kid that’s had trouble after trouble after trouble and they start feeling more hopeful. They start trying a little bit. They start feeling that they’re being successful, nothing better than that."
The key to that success is finding something the kids are good at. John Lee is the transition counselor. He helps the kids find something they can focus on, that boosts their self esteem. For one teen who had been caught selling drugs, Lee encouraged him to go into retail sales. That’s the kind of thing someone did for him once.
"My dad he drank a lot he was very abusive he beat my mom he beat my older brother he beat myself 'til I was 21 years old," Lee said. "So I grew up with a lot of physical and verbal abuse. I was suicidal at one point."
It took someone at his church believing in him to turn his life around.
"When I share my story immediately I see their eyes light up and I have a listening ear," Lee said. "I know that’s that small window where I can speak some hope and truth into their lives."
Lee says the hardest part of his job is helping the kids find strong role models on the outside so they don’t come back.
Once a meth addict with no future, Jay now hopes to become a positive influence. He has goals. He wants to get his high school diploma and go to college to be a paramedic.
"I’m doing this for me you know," Jay said. "It’s my life, this isn't how I want to be, so I have to make a change for myself, then I wanna help other people change. I’m one that can say I know how hard it is."
