Seven teenagers crowded around a foldout table in a stuffy, converted garage on Monday.
It’s summer, but their laptops were out.
Frequent bursts of laughter were reminders of their youth in an otherwise serious meeting.
They were discussing a policy proposal for San Diego County Sheriff Kelly Martinez: reforms to solitary confinement.
It’s far from their goal of ending solitary, but it’s a first step.
Nikhil Plettner Booker, 17, founded the group. He speaks with a measured seriousness far beyond his years.
“I won't get too into it for the sake of, like, the privacy of my peers and my family. But needless to say, there are some personal connections,” he said.
He said he’s not the only team member personally impacted by the justice system. Some have had loved ones held in solitary confinement.
While they can’t change the whole system at once, solitary feels like a piece they can tackle.
“It is very specific, but it's also emblematic of a larger system which fails to address the root causes of why crime occurs in the first place,” he said.
They started as a club at San Diego High School last year. They’ve already found more than 50 teenagers willing to give their free time to the cause. Free pizza helps, Plettner Booker said.
They formed a group independent of the school: Youth to End Solitary SD.
Being so young can sometimes work against them, he said.
“We get the cliché like, ‘Oh, thank you so much for doing this. You know, ‘It's good for you young people doing this work.’ And it comes off nice, but at the same time it takes away from the seriousness that we bring to the conversation,” he said.
It can also work for them.
“Our youthfulness has been able to open some doors that haven't been available to other people, you know. When we asked for people in the sheriff's department to get us a meeting with the sheriff, we specifically said, ‘Mention to her that, you know, we're high schoolers,’” he said.
He said they’d already met with California legislators and the San Diego County Citizens Law Enforcement Review Board.
But the sheriff is different — she might need more convincing to get on board, and getting a half-hour of her time is a feat in itself.
“We've spoken to a lot of other not-for-profit organizations that are involved with criminal justice reform, and they've failed to get meetings with the sheriff,” Plettner Booker said.
They built relationships within the office first. An assistant sheriff offered them a tour of George Bailey Detention Facility. There, they came face to face with what they‘re trying to end.
They had seen videos and photos in their research and had watched documentaries, but Plettner Booker said “it was definitely different actually going to a wing.”
An ongoing lawsuit alleges little to no mental health treatment in the county’s solitary units and almost no human contact.
San Diego County Sheriff’s Office spokesperson David Collins declined to comment on pending litigation.
He told KPBS by email Monday that 188 people were being held in “administrative separation,” their term for solitary. 50 had serious mental illness.
“We actually saw inmates in the administrative separation units,” Plettner Booker said.
Being that physically close to people in solitary confinement was moving for himself and the team, he said. It was especially difficult to see them in the cages meant for exercise.
Solitary is meant to be secure housing for people considered a danger to themselves or others. Sheriff’s Office policy says it “shall not involve any other deprivation of privileges” beyond what’s necessary for safety.
The temporary security comes at a cost. The United Nations considers more than 15 consecutive days in solitary to be torture.
According to the Sheriff’s Office, 13 people have died in San Diego County solitary confinement since 2015.
“(The sheriff) is trying to tackle in-custody deaths because it is a very prevalent issue, and we're trying to get her to realize that reforming solitary confinement is going to be needed,” Plettner Booker said.
The group’s core asks of the sheriff are a two-week cap on solitary, a transitional program between solitary and general population, and a list of violent offenses that warrant placement in solitary. Nonviolent reasons like protective custody and mental illness alone would not qualify someone for solitary under their proposal.
Plettner Booker felt cautiously optimistic leading up to their meeting with Martinez.
On Wednesday, they walked through the doors of sheriff headquarters. Forty-five minutes later, they walked out.
It wasn’t exactly what they had hoped.
“I wanted for stronger commitments by the sheriff's office to implement parts of our proposal,” Plettner Booker said. “But regardless, it wasn't a flat out no, which is, for us, a success.”
“I believe growth lies in uncomfortability, and that is what we had to do. We had to sit in a meeting as high school students with the sheriff and with other leadership. And that, with no doubt, is uncomfortable,” said Yasmeen Elmezein, the group’s editorial director. “We are not saying that this process has been easy, but we are seeing – every single day, every step that we take – we are seeing meaningful outcomes.”
“There are certain times where, you know, kids have ideas and they do go up to adults and they kind of get shut down,” said the group’s legislative director Ashley Ordaz. “But we started this by going to each other instead of going to adults first.”
She gave advice to other “kids with ideas.”
“Just get a group of people, meet at a garage and plan,” she said. “All you need is, like, some heart, some goals and a little bit of joy. “
The students all said they’ll keep pushing.
