We were savage children who went far more deeply into cruelty than our idols, the bold gangsters. —Jean Genet, Miracle of the Rose
Miracle of the Rose/Central District/Fri Nov 3/12:05 pm: Officer Consalvi reports: "I was dispatched to investigate an assault that occurred between two inmates at Youth Services Center. I arrived and contacted victim [white, male, born in 1989] who stated that suspect [black, male, born in 1990] punched him in the face. Victim stated that he and the suspect became involved in a verbal argument while they were sitting in class. The suspect stated to victim: 'I don't like you... fuck you... shut up... you're disrespectful.' A verbal argument escalated to an assault when suspect stood up and punched victim in the face. The victim stated that he stayed seated after the assault occurred and that he did not attempt to fight back. The victim was escorted to the nurse and suspect was put in lockdown.
"I then contacted the suspect and read him Miranda from my department-issued resource book. Suspect stated that he understood his rights and that he was willing to speak with officers. He stated that the altercation between him and suspect began yesterday (11-2-06) at lunch. He stated that after he took the peppershaker off of the victim's table without asking, the victim called the suspect 'the N-word.' The suspect then told YSC staff that the victim called him 'the N-word.' Suspect stated that while he and the victim were sitting in class today, the victim called the suspect 'a snitch,' which instigated the verbal disturbance. The victim stated to him, 'If we weren't in juvie I'd beat you up.' Suspect stated that this comment upset him so much that 'I threw down my pencil, walked over to him and hit him in the face.' Suspect was subsequently taken into custody. There were no witnesses available at the time of the investigation."
Is this not the realm of Jean Genet, of his beautiful but brutal novel Miracle of the Rose? The novel's fictional account of his real experiences in a French youth-detention center is in mood and texture—the frailty of flowers, the thorns of sexual tension—not far at all from what we find in this report of an American "juvie." It is a closed society (enfermement) that is cold (because it is inhuman, bureaucratic), tender (in the way youth is emotionally tender), terrifying (because that youthful tenderness must be smashed), and sad (because the destruction of youth is the end of innocence). These are just boys and yet the world that encloses them is hard and unforgiving ("enfermement de la misère, misère de l'enfermement"). The soft order of the domestic, of family life (the "lunch," the "peppershaker," the "pencil"), has been replaced by the hard order of a correctional facility (the "lockdown," the "YSC staff," the "department-issued resource book"). The boys have nothing left but to be tough, to say things that hurt, and to defend their small portion of honor. 
