Sally Henderson

Delinquency History: Aggravated battery. Served six months on juvenile probation.

Walking through her West Side Chicago neighborhood each morning on her way to school, 12-year-old Sally Henderson passed the young men on the corner yelling "rocks and blows."

She crossed through gang-infested streets by herself as she made her way to catch the bus that took her to O.A. Thorpe, the middle school for gifted students she attended on Chicago's North Side. On many winter days, it was dark in the morning when she boarded the bus and by late afternoon when she was dropped off.

After her younger sister was robbed, Henderson and her family decided she needed some protection. First, she carried a rock in a sock in her book bag. Later, however, she felt she needed more to defend herself and she started carrying a "little blade" in her pocket, which she clutched on her way to and from school.

"I never intended to use it," says Henderson, 23, as she reflects back on the incident that would bring her into contact with the juvenile court system and forever change her life.

Sally Henderson was born in Chicago on December 30, 1975. The oldest of three girls, Henderson and her sisters were raised by her mother. Her parents were divorced and her father drifted out of her life and into a lifelong struggle with drugs. Henderson's mother rose early every morning to start her trek from Chicago's West Side to the suburbs where she supported the family by cleaning the homes of white families, supplementing her income with public assistance.

"We struggled to make ends meet but I didn't really understand this until I was older," says Henderson. "We always had food on the table and clothing on our backs, although we depended on food stamps and were often given hand-me-downs from some of the families my mom worked for. My mom didn't let us see that she was struggling. What I remember most was that my mom never complained...she always made out like she was lucky to have her job."

At Duke Ellington Elementary School, Henderson was singled out for her academic potential and in the fifth and sixth grades was placed in a program for gifted students. She won a school-wide essay contest, writing on the topic "What I would do if I was Mayor." Her essay was chosen as the best in the district. She remembers attending Kennedy-King College for the competition and thinking, for the first time, that she wanted to go to college.

After graduating from the sixth grade, Henderson enrolled at O.A. Thorpe, following the lead of most of her classmates in the gifted program. When she got to Thorpe, she felt estranged from the popular clique.

"I was the new girl, I had a shape, and the boys were attracted to me," says Henderson.

A group of girls started harassing her, calling her embarrassing names, and bumping into her when they passed her in the halls. When Henderson's mother complained to the principal, "he just brushed it off," says Henderson, because he said, "girls will be girls."

On one December day, two days before Henderson was to appear in a Christmas play, a group of girls boarded Henderson's school bus and jumped her.

"Before I knew it," says Henderson, "I grabbed my blade and cut one of the girls in the hand."

She felt she needed to defend herself and she started carrying a "little blade" in her pocket. "Before I knew it, I grabbed my blade and cut one of the girls in the hand," Henderson says.

Henderson was arrested, taken to the police station, and charged with aggravated battery. After she was processed by the police, she was released to her mother. She was suspended for two weeks from school and told that she was not welcome back for eighth grade.

"When I returned to school," says Henderson, "I was treated as if I was a criminal...I'll never forget one teacher, who knew I wanted to be in television, told me that I would never be a news reporter now that I had been arrested."

She remembers little of her courtroom experience, though she has bad memories of her public defender.

"He was a big, mean black guy with a nasty attitude, who had read the police reports and thought I was this big criminal," Henderson says. "He wanted me to do time in juvie."

Henderson believes the public defender didn't care to listen to her or explain things to her mother and stepfather who accompanied her to court: "The experience was a nightmare. I remember crying a lot."

"When I returned to school, I was treated as a criminal.... I'll never forget one teacher, who knew I wanted to be in television, told me that I would never be a news reporter now that I had been arrested."

Henderson was sentenced to six months of probation for the knifing incident—her first and only offense. Her first probation officer was not much better than her lawyer. He would come by the house, take out a pad and paper, write down a few things, and leave. But Henderson's fortunes took a turn for the better when her case was reassigned to a new probation officer, Karen Jordan.

"Jordan was so different, she would pick me up at home, take me out to eat, to picnics, to meet other kids, or just to talk," says Henderson. Even though she was only Henderson's probation officer officially for six months, Jordan remained her friend and mentor for years. She took Henderson to a career conference where Henderson met Mary Dee, a local television broadcaster, inspiring Henderson to continue her pursuit of a career as a television reporter.

"Jordan came into my home, she got to know me, and she showed me that she genuinely and honestly cared," says Henderson. "She had a special spirit, a gift at being able to relate with young people like me...I can't begin to thank her enough for what she did for me."

What Jordan did not know—because Henderson has only begun talking about it recently—was that Henderson desperately needed someone to work through these tough issues. For the previous 6 years, from the time she was 6 years of age, she had been sexually molested by an older cousin. When she tried to tell her relatives, they didn't believe her, taking the side of her cousin—just as he said they would. Jordan's kindness and attentive ear helped Henderson to work through the pain of the abuse.

Henderson and Jordan continued to keep in touch when she went to Lane Tech, an academic high school with high entrance standards. One day, after she and Jordan had not spoken for several months, Jordan showed up at Lane Tech while Henderson was sitting in study hall and told her about Project Lifeline, a program developed by several probation officers to offer college scholarships to juvenile court wards.

Jordan insisted that Henderson write a letter applying for the scholarship.

"She sat next to me and waited until I finished the letter and then she fine-tuned it and typed it for me," says Henderson. "Before I knew it I was called for an interview and then I received a letter in the mail, telling me I could attend the college of my choice, free of charge, for the next four years."

Project Lifeline was the brainchild of several probation officers at the court, says Steve Eiseman, the probation officer who worked with Henderson after she received the scholarship. One day, some probation officers got together and bemoaned the fact that children who finished high school often didn't have the resources to continue their education. "It was so rare that our kids were graduating from high school that we felt it was tragic not to do everything possible to assist those who wanted to go on and further their education," says Eiseman. Since 1990, Project Lifeline has funded 80 children to go to college and apprenticeship programs. Currently, there are 40 children in the program. In addition to providing financial support for college, the program also provides mentoring, supportive services and social opportunities for the children who receive scholarships.

Henderson used the scholarship to go to Parkland Junior College in Champaign, Illinois and then transferred to Illinois State University ("ISU") in Normal. Henderson went to ISU in part to break off a relationship with a high school boyfriend that had soured shortly after she gave birth to their daughter, Jazzlyn, on July 7, 1997. She and "Jazz" moved to ISU to make a clean break.

At ISU, Henderson pursued her dream of becoming a television broadcaster. In her senior year, she hosted "First at Five," a talk show on T.V. 10, ISU's Cable Access Channel. She was a producer, editor, writer, and reporter on the show, which aired once a week for 14 weeks. She also served as a news reporter and news anchor for T.V. 10. She graduated in May 1999 with a degree in communications and now works as an intern at WEEK, the local NBC affiliate in Bloomington, Illinois. This October, Henderson will marry her fiancé, a sociology major at ISU.

Henderson reflects positively on her juvenile court experience. "What started out as a nightmare, turned out to be a blessing....I doubt that I'd be where I am at today if I hadn't been brought to court," says Henderson. "If I could do one thing to improve the system," says Henderson, "it would be to fill it with people like Karen and Steve, people who really care, who take the time to find out what a child is thinking."

"Jordan [her probation officer] came into my home, she got to know me, and she showed me that she genuinely and honestly cared. . . . I can't begin to thank her enough for what she did."

Henderson is disturbed by the trend in society to try kids in adult criminal court. "That's the worst thing you could do to a child," says Henderson, the anger rising in her voice. "Even though children may commit adult crimes, they are still children. What these children need are people who honestly and genuinely care about them."

Henderson cares about them. She wants young girls in the inner city who have shared similar experiences to know that with self-determination, love from others and faith in God, they can overcome seemingly insurmountable obstacles. She plans on applying her communications skills to become a motivational speaker, using her story to give hope to others. "I feel like I have to do this," says Henderson, "It must be why I went through this."