On a rainy Friday afternoon in the Red Hook district of Brooklyn, New York, Judge Alex M. Calabrese presides over the only courtroom in a community justice center located a block from the Red Hook Houses, one of the largest housing projects in Brooklyn. He sits there surrounded by lawyers and clerks, defendants and court officers—all the ingredients of a cinematic court scene. However, the plots and climaxes that take place in this courtroom are not typical of any television program.

A male defendant goes before the judge. His hands are humbly behind his back, and he stands beside his lawyer like a scolded child in the principal's office. Weeks before, he was charged with a misdemeanor. Instead of jail time, the court recommended drug treatment, and today he must give an update on his progress. The news isn't good. Earlier in the day, he tested positive for cocaine. The prosecution, frustrated and not optimistic, rec-ommends to the judge that he spend sixteen days in jail. But the judge, acting more like a concerned counselor and life coach, is unconvinced. He asks the defendant if he has children, and if he sees them. The man says that he does. "I don't need to tell you to stay out of jail," the judge admonishes. "You need to stay clean for your kids." Instead of heeding the prosecution's recommendation, the judge assigns him to twenty-eight days of resident drug treatment followed by six months of outpatient treatment.

In between drug-related cases, defendants who have violated codes of civil conduct also stand before the judge. These cases are referred to as "summons cases." One man is charged with public urination. The embarrassment alone seems like a suitable penalty. He is given the option of a fine, community service, or a lawyer defense. (Summons cases can be challenged with a lawyer in a summons trial.) He opts for community service, which will be served at the center.

A bicyclist dressed in a suit is up next. His crime? Riding a bicycle on a New York City sidewalk. The judge simply informs him that what he did was illegal and advises him not to do it again. Some of these violators take a forty-five-minute quality-of-life class, informing them of how their actions affect the larger community.

There were 13,393 quality-of-life cases presented in the community justice court in 2005. "The NYPD has built an international reputation on the theory that by concentrating on the lower-level offenses, the index—or serious felonies—will come down," the judge explains. Though it may seem that addressing these offenses occurs at the cost of time spent on more serious offenses, the presiding judge explains that they generally resolve the cases on the first court appearance without trial.

It is this kind of approach that is causing citizens and law practitioners from Brooklyn to Liverpool to take notice of Judge Calabrese and the Red Hook Community Justice Center. Judge Calabrese, the court's only judge, is not simply dealing with crime by giving out punishments: He is attempting to eradicate crime by addressing the underlying causes.

This type of approach is termed "problem-solving justice." It is an attempt to examine the causes of crime and to address it holistically. Judge Calabrese used this approach even before coming to the Red Hook Center. He recognized that crime was not happening simply for crime's sake. It was time to get to the root of the problem.

"So I began to bring in social workers," he explains. He used their services to deal with the issues behind the criminal behaviors. When the Center for Court Innovation (the New York court system's independent, not-for-profit research and development arm) recommended opening the Red Hook Center in 2000, Calabrese, a former trial attorney for the Legal Aid Society of New York, came on board.

"If we see a young man in court for assaulting his mother, we know that it was more than an assault; there are some family issues that need to be dealt with," says Calabrese. As a result, the center offers programs such as GED courses, childcare, AmeriCorps, Job Corps, and other on-site social services. Defendants can be overheard saying, "I can't believe I've been drug-free this long," and, "Thank you for believing in me."

Even other countries have taken notice. Inspired by and based on the Red Hook Center, the North Liverpool Community Justice Centre opened in October 2005, the first of its kind in England and Wales. In addition, the Red Hook Center's "Teen Court" model is being adopted in New Zealand, Canada, and Japan.

But where there is praise there is also criticism. Some wonder if justice is being administered at the Community Justice Center because defendants are "treated" instead of "punished" for their crimes.

According to the judge, "Justice is rehabilitation—requiring people to do what they need to do to get on track." Calabrese acknowledges that some defendants fail to take advantage of the court's options. However, he explains that when defendants refuse to cooperate with the court, sentencing becomes harsher because of the ongoing interaction and
accountability between the defendant and the judge. "I give longer jail time because I pay more attention than traditional courts. I take these cases more seriously than they do downtown," he says. However, repeat offenses are infrequent. The center boasts a seventy-five-percent compliance rate.

"People deserve a real chance to get back on track before they're locked up," says Calabrese.

­—Myisha Cherry is a Brooklyn-based freelance writer and educator who is currently working on her third book of poetry.