life imprisonment without parole. We decided to focus on two subsets of kids to help the Court grant relief if it wasn’t ready to ban all life sentences without parole for juveniles. We focused on the youngest kids, who were thirteen and fourteen. There were fewer than a hundred children under the age of fifteen who had been sentenced to life imprisonment without parole. We also focused on the children who, like Joe Sullivan, Ian Manuel, and Antonio Nuñez, had been convicted of non-homicide offenses. Most juveniles sentenced to life imprisonment without parole had been convicted of homicide crimes. We estimated there were fewer than two hundred juvenile offenders serving life without parole for non-homicide offenses.
We argued that the ban on the death penalty had implications because a death-in-prison sentence is also a terminal, unchangeable, once-and-for-all judgment on the whole life of a human being that declares him or her forever unfit to be part of civil society. We asked courts to recognize that such a judgment cannot rationally be passed on children below a certain age because they are unfinished products, human works in progress. They stand at a peculiarly vulnerable moment in their lives. Their potential for growth and change is enormous. Almost all of them will outgrow criminal behavior, and it is practically impossible to detect the few who will not. They are “the products of an environment over which they have no real control—passengers through narrow pathways in a world they never made,” as we wrote in our brief.
We emphasized the incongruity of not allowing children to smoke, drink, vote, drive without restrictions, give blood, buy guns, and a range of other behaviors because of their well-recognized lack of maturity and judgment while simultaneously treating some of the most at-risk, neglected, and impaired children exactly the same as full-grown adults in the criminal justice system.
Initially, we had little success with these arguments. Joe Sullivan’s judge ruled that our claims were “meritless.” In other states, we were met with similar skepticism and resistance. Eventually we exhausted options provided by the state of Florida in Joe Sullivan’s case and filed an appeal in the U.S. Supreme Court. In May 2009, the Supreme Court agreed to review the case. It felt like a miracle. Review in the Supreme Court is rare enough, but the possibility that the Court might create constitutional relief for children sentenced to die in prison made this opportunity even more thrilling. It was a chance to change the rules across the country.
The Court granted review in Joe’s case and in another Florida case that involved a sixteen-year-old teen convicted of a non-homicide and sentenced to life with no parole. Terrance Graham was from Jacksonville, Florida, and had been on probation when he was accused of trying to rob a store. As a result of his new arrest, the judge revoked Terrance’s probation and sentenced him to die in prison. Because both Joe’s case and the Graham case involved non-homicides, it was likely that if we won a favorable ruling from the Court, it would only apply to life-without-parole sentences imposed on juveniles convicted of non-homicides, but that was an exciting possibility.
The cases generated a lot of national media attention. When we filed our brief in the U.S. Supreme Court, national organizations joined us and filed amicus briefs urging the Court to rule in our favor. We received support from the American Psychological Association, the American Psychiatric Association, the American Bar Association, the American Medical Association, former judges, former prosecutors, social workers, civil rights groups, human rights groups, even some victims’ rights groups. Former juvenile offenders who had later become well-known public figures filed supporting documents, including very conservative politicians like former U.S. senator Alan Simpson from Wyoming. Simpson had spent eighteen years in the Senate, including ten as the Republican whip, the second-ranking senator in his party. He had also been a former juvenile felon. He had been adjudicated as a juvenile delinquent when he was seventeen, for multiple convictions for arson, theft, aggravated assault, gun violence, and, finally, assaulting a police officer. He later confessed: “I was a monster.” His life didn’t begin to change until he found himself imprisoned in “a sea of puke and urine” following another arrest. Senator Simpson knew firsthand that you cannot judge a person’s full potential by his juvenile misconduct. Another brief was filed on behalf of former child soldiers whose terrifying behavior after being forced into violent African militias made the crimes of our clients seem much