Inside the Juvenile Justice System: A Psychologist’s Perspective

Working with juveniles is an experience like no other. Every day unfolds a new story each one layered with pain, regret, confusion, and sometimes, sheer indifference. Families walk in, broken and in tears, struggling to make sense of what has happened. Meanwhile, many of the juveniles themselves fail to fully comprehend the weight of their actions whether it’s murder, attempted murder, theft, or other offenses.

As a psychologist in a juvenile home, my role goes beyond just counselling. It’s about bridging the gap between their actions and their understanding of consequences. Many of these young individuals come from backgrounds where crime and violence are normalized, where survival takes precedence over morality. For some, stealing is not a choice but a necessity; for others, violence is a learned response to conflict.

One of the most challenging aspects of working with juveniles is their emotional disconnect from their actions. While their families grieve and plead for their release, many of them remain detached. Some display a hardened exterior unwilling to show vulnerability while others simply don’t understand why they’re here.

I often meet young boys who narrate their crimes as if they were just another day in their lives. “Bas gusse mein ho gaya” or “Doston ke kehne par kar diya” are common justifications. The lack of foresight, the inability to weigh consequences, and the absence of guidance make their actions seem almost inevitable in their world.

My goal is to break this cycle, not just by making them realize their mistakes but by helping them feel the consequences. Guilt and shame, if processed correctly, can be transformative emotions. I work to ensure that their guilt doesn’t turn into self-hatred but instead becomes a stepping stone to change. Through counselling sessions, discussions, and activities, I try to instill a sense of responsibility and accountability.

But change doesn’t come easy. Some juveniles resist, dismissing everything as a temporary phase. Others, however, show small signs of transformation a willingness to talk, an acknowledgment of their actions, a desire to do better. And in those moments, I know that my work is making a difference.

This job is not easy. There are days when the burden of stories, the weight of young lives derailed too soon, feels overwhelming. Seeing families in distress, watching children struggle with their identity and future it takes an emotional toll. But then there are also moments of hope. A boy who decides to continue his education. A child who expresses remorse and asks for another chance. A family that chooses to support rather than abandon.

These are the moments that keep me going. Working with juveniles is not just about rehabilitation; it’s about understanding the world they come from and helping them build a new one. It’s about giving them the tools to rewrite their own stories ones that don’t end in crime but in redemption. And if I can make even the slightest difference, then every tough day, every heartbreaking session, and every difficult conversation is worth it.

~Gargi Sharma, Counselling Psychologist.