Authors:
Historic Era:
Historic Theme:
Subject:
September 1999 | Volume 50, Issue 5
Authors:
Historic Era:
Historic Theme:
Subject:
September 1999 | Volume 50, Issue 5
They are armed. They are dangerous. They are our children.
These sentiments sound chillingly up-to-date, as current as the latest suburban high school massacre or big-city gang killing. In fact, youth crime —and especially adult fear of youth crime—has been a perennial American concern. An apprentice rapes his master’s ten-year-old daughter in seventeenth-century Massachusetts. A son shoots his father and mother with a rifle on the Kentucky frontier. Street gangs terrorize neighborhoods in nineteenth-century New York, Philadelphia, Boston, and Baltimore. Indeed, though the word teenager is about sixty years old, and adolescent has been used in its current sense for about ninety-five years, Americans have been speaking of and fretting about “juvenile delinquents” for nearly two centuries.
Throughout our history young Americans have shocked their elders by the callousness and brutality of their crimes and prompted worries that violence is an outgrowth of our national character. “Their crimes have the unrestrained and sanguinary character of a race accustomed to overcoming all obstacles,” wrote the social reformer Charles Loring Brace in his celebrated 1872 book The Dangerous Classes of New York . “They rifle a bank, where English thieves pick a pocket; they murder where European prolétaires cudgel or fight with fists. … The murder of an unoffending old man is nothing to them.”
Young people’s bloody deeds seem perpetually unprecedented. “Younger and younger children commit more and more serious and violent acts,” wrote Dr. Fredric Wertham in his sensational 1953 bestseller The Seduction of the Innocent . “Even psychotic children did not act like this fifteen years ago.” Wertham blamed gory, sadistic comic books. Among the criminals he cited was a fourteen-year-old who in 1950 fired a rifle from the window of a New York apartment house, shooting to death a man watching the Giants play baseball at the Polo Grounds. Such acts of apparently random violence often have a strong impact on public opinion, touching off, as they did in the 1950s, panic over juvenile crime.
In fact, the Post-World War II era was a time of declining youth crime. The same is true of the 1990s, another period in which teenage violence has been an important public issue. Statistics never galvanize attention as powerfully as do two or three horrible incidents. There are, unfortunately, always plenty of these. What seems to vary is the amount of attention Americans choose to pay. So one must track two separate histories. One concerns crimes committed by young people; the other deals with popular concern over juvenile crime.
While the first of these seems to rest on a solid factual ground, different definitions of crime and of youth and changing standards of enforcement make long-term comparisons difficult. For example, most nineteenth-century records deal with urban crime. Street gangs, such as New York City’s notorious Dead Rabbits and Plug Uglies, sprang up in most major cities during the second third of