Some days it seems like it was only yesterday, some days I feel the decades behind me. I can still remember the planning meetings around Judy Chomsky’s kitchen table — to be clear, Judy was the only one among us who actually had a kitchen table, not to mention other actual pieces of furniture — as we four soon-to-be graduates of Temple Law School hatched an idea to start a non-profit law firm for children. Bob Schwartz, Phil Margolis, Judy and I shared a desire to change the world, and the utterly naïve belief that we could actually do it. We were consumed by our idealism and by the power of law to spark social change and create social justice.
The 1970s were heady times. Bookended by the civil rights activism of the 1960s and the election of Ronald Reagan in 1980, buffeted by the assassinations of beloved political figures and the carnage of the Vietnam war, the ‘70’s turned sometimes violent political rhetoric into a call for action among young people across America — “don’t trust anyone over 30” — who rejected the slow walk toward progress of the prior generation in favor of a demand for change NOW. Of course, all that political unrest was joined by social unrest, as the 70s also spawned the era of drugs, sex and rock-n-roll. Good times for sure.
In law school we watched the Watergate hearings and the nightly Vietnam body count on television. We marched, we sang, we protested, we objected, we rebelled, we questioned. But we clung to our belief in the power of law, the importance of speaking truth to power, and the use of law as a weapon against oppression, inequality, and injustice.
From all of this, Juvenile Law Center was born. At one of our very first pitches for funding from a local governmental agency, which included judges from Philadelphia Family Court — in our first year out of law school — we boldly spoke of our agenda to totally reform the juvenile justice system. We didn’t get the funding. We did learn to read the room better, but we held steadfast to our vision.
That was then; this is now. Today, as we enter our 50th year, our vision remains radical and transformative. We still believe in the power of law to reduce harm and promote equity. But like prior generations reflecting from their rocking chairs on a porch somewhere, our idealism is informed by realism, our progress is slowed by society’s speed bumps, and our frustrations are less quick-tempered and more baked-in. We have won, we have lost, we have won, we have lost. We will win again. We have learned the lessons of the past, but we still dream the dreams of our youth.
Follow along with us this year as we take you down memory lane and then give you a glimpse not just of our future, but your future. We are excited to retell our story, and to acknowledge the contributions of so many brilliant lawyers, advocates and young people who have been our friends and colleagues all these years. We will share our memories and our emotions, our thoughts and our hopes. We enter our 50th year not tired, but re-energized. When there is work left to do, Juvenile Law Center remains committed to doing it.
This is our promise to you, our friends, colleagues and supporters, and to the young people with whom we stand.
