Judge Roger Rogoff Has the Power to Change a Kid's Life. But Does He Have the Tools?

Judge Roger Rogoff is a part of a system even he sees as flawed. Nate Gowdy

This story is one of several presented as part of this week’s Juvenile Detention package.

Judge Roger Rogoff begins his day with a big cup of Starbucks coffee. On a recent Thursday, the first defendant on his docket is the only white juvenile he’ll see in his courtroom that day. He is also the only kid represented by a private attorney.

By bringing pot to school, the juvenile violated the probation put in place after he pleaded guilty to two counts of sexually motivated assault in the fourth degree. The new offense could jeopardize the resolution in his other pending case. He recites a prepared speech on how he recognizes the consequences of his actions and is committed to community service.

His statement convinces the court to allow him to finish his sentence without time in detention, but the next case in front of Rogoff proves more complex. A 12-year-old girl stares down the possibility of lockup in Juvenile Rehabilitation Administration (JRA) at Echo Glen, a secure, state-run institution in Snoqualmie.