Jane Smith stared at the holes her 16-year-old son had punched in the wall and reached for the phone. “When is it going to be me that he hits?” she wondered. Still, she was sickened by the thought of calling police because she knew her son would be arrested. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

She isn’t alone. Parents agonize about reporting their children’s troubling behaviour.

In late 2014, cases of parents calling authorities on their kids garnered national headlines. In one, a mother reportedly told a social worker, and then police, that her 21-year-old son had threatened a terrorist attack. In another, the father of a 15-year-old reportedly found money in his son’s bag after a convenience store was robbed — police allege the teen planned to travel abroad and fight with jihadists.

Those Montreal cases grabbed widespread attention because they were terror-related. But the grim reality is parents call the police for a variety of reasons, including aggressive behaviour, property damage and possession of drugs and weapons. Usually, they call when they fear for the safety of their child, or someone else.

Statistics on how many parents call police on their children aren’t readily available because they’re usually classified as something else, such as a domestic call or a disturbance call.

Helen Jones, who co-founded The Association of Parent Support Groups in Ontario, says the issue of parents grappling with their kids’ destructive behaviour is “very prevalent.” But we rarely hear about it.

“Parents isolate themselves. They know that chances are they’ll be judged because their child is acting up,” she said.

Many parents the Star reached out to declined to speak. Only three agreed, on the condition they, and their children, be given pseudonyms. The Star also spoke to police, youth workers and defence lawyers for other perspectives on this issue.

Jane Smith and her son Michael: “My son didn’t want to talk to me ever again — he was very, very angry.”

Jane Smith’s call to 911 about her son wasn’t her first.

Two weeks earlier, she had called police when Michael had punched holes in the wall because his friends weren’t allowed over. Police spoke with the 16-year-old in his room, but he wasn’t arrested.

Michael was furious and ran away — Smith only heard from him days later when he needed to be bailed out of jail on charges related to a pellet gun incident. She agreed. Bail conditions stated he be amenable to the rules of the house. That didn’t last long.

On this day, he grew enraged by a request that he attend a family event. And this time, he got so close to her as he punched the wall it petrified her.

Recalling that incident five years ago now, she says, “It was like, ‘I don’t want to live like this.’”

Smith knew Michael would be arrested for breaking his bail conditions. “I was, more than ever before, putting my foot down.”

As she waited for a 911 operator to answer, an “unbelievable dread” filled her and she hung up. Seconds later, the operator called her back and police were dispatched to the home.

Michael had once been a happy, well-behaved boy, but that all changed after he was regularly bullied in elementary school. He grew angry, withdrawn and defiant. By high school, he was hanging with a “nasty crowd,” skipping school, running away from home and getting into trouble with the law for smoking pot and breaking into cars.

Smith sought help from social workers, youth psychologists and school counsellors. Nothing worked. When she called police, Michael was livid. He felt betrayed.

“My son didn’t want to talk to me ever again — he was very, very angry.”

Michael ended up in an open-custody facility, or group home, for four months. And Smith discovered The Association of Parent Support Groups in Ontario (APSGO), where she opened up — something she hadn’t done with her friends because she feared being judged.

Over time, APSGO made her realize that she had to stop trying to fix Michael’s behaviour.

“I let go,” she says. “I just said to him, ‘You know the rules. I can’t keep you out of jail. I can’t get your high school education for you. This is your life and I did my best when you were a kid and now it’s up to you.’”

It was a wake-up call. Michael is now 21, has his high school diploma, a full-time job and a girlfriend.

“That anger is gone,” says Smith, who’s now an APSGO support coach. “He’s on a really positive track, which is why I don’t regret having him arrested.”

Sue Clark and her son John: “What kind of childhood memory is this? Your mother actually calling the police on you.

Sue Clark was getting ready to leave for work when the situation with her son continued to deteriorate.

Once a “perfect angel child,” John, 13, had grown angry, terrorizing his little brother, refusing to go to school and keeping everyone up at night.

“I didn’t feel safe,” says Clark. “He pushed me very aggressively and pushed my son. He just looked like he was taken over. I didn’t know who he was.”

The Scarborough mom reached out to officials at school and Children’s Aid Society — but they weren’t helpful, she says. At the Hospital for Sick Children, John was diagnosed with chronic anxiety disorder and given a referral to a child psychologist, who had a year-long waiting list. And crisis workers, who showed up at the home days after Clark’s call, suggested a psychiatric facility that had a two-to-three-month wait list.

The family was in crisis and couldn’t wait. Clark was sympathetic to her son’s disorder, but thought: “I can’t let him railroad the family with his crazy behaviour.”

That’s what John was trying to do the morning his mom was getting ready for work. He took her car keys and threatened to trash the house if she left.

Not knowing what to do or who to turn to, she called her local police division. Police said the keys needed to be retrieved because the boy could take off with the car.

“I didn’t call the police with the hopes that he would be charged,” she says. “But they couldn’t guarantee me that they wouldn’t charge him or take him away.”

Clark felt sick about the call, fearing it would destroy her relationship with her son: “I was just so nervous: Did I do the right thing? What kind of childhood memory is this? Your mother actually calling the police on you.

She explained to her son: “I’m sorry that I called the police, but I’m in charge of the whole family, not just you…And as a family, we’re not going to live like this anymore.”

Within minutes of officers arriving, Clark had her keys back. She was also impressed that one of the responding officers made periodic house calls to make sure everything was OK. The officer also worked with the elementary school resource to help get John back into school.

“My son was shocked that the police would actually come back again,” says Clark. “It was really helpful because it reinforced that this is such a serious issue.”

John is now back in school, on medication, and is seeing a psychotherapist, which the Clarks ended up paying for after several months on a waiting list.

(Details have been changed to protect the family’s identity.)

Tony Hill and his son Joe: “…If they learn young, and learn quickly, it may be a life lesson well-taught.”

When Joe was 16, he developed a rare autoimmune disease that damaged his brain and decreased his mental functioning.

The once-brilliant student, who was happy, well-behaved and took pride in his appearance, vanished. He stopped going to school, was angry, self-medicated with street drugs, and didn’t care what he looked like.

And he got in trouble with the law, at times because his father Tony Hill called authorities.

One 911 call was made at a family birthday party. Joe grew agitated and sliced his arm with a knife, in front of his much younger siblings.

“The cops came into the apartment with guns drawn,” recalls Hill, who pleaded with the officers to put away their firearms. “I said to the police, ‘He’s mentally ill, he would only hurt himself, I know him, I’m his dad.’ The police officer said, ‘I’m not taking any chances.’”

Things could have turned deadly — as has happened in other cases. But Joe dropped the knife, didn’t resist apprehension and was taken to a hospital.

“I don’t blame the police — they’re not equipped to assess these situations. Unfortunately, the lack of sufficient funds in the mental health system has resulted in police being on the front lines dealing with mental health, rather than those who are specifically trained — such as doctors and social workers — to assess and understand the problem.”

Joe is now 37. In the past two decades, Hill has reported his son’s disruptive behaviour or violation of bail conditions on numerous occasions. It’s always gut-wrenching because he never knows if police will treat it as a criminal matter or a mental health issue.

Hill remembers once when police said they would take Joe to a mental health centre. Instead, they took him to the Don Jail, “where he was stripped down and banged his head against the wall all night.”

One of the hardest things Hill has done is pull his son’s bail, which triggers an arrest. But he feels it’s in his son’s, and the public’s, best interest. He once pulled his son’s bail after Joe was throwing stones and smashing the windows of his home, when he should’ve been in a drug rehabilitation treatment.

“I had a duty to my other kids as well, to keep them safe and away from trauma as much as possible because (Joe’s) behaviour was impacting on them,” he says. “I was caught between a rock and a hard place.”

Joe has been in and out of jail, rehab and psychiatric facilities. Hill says the mental health system has failed his son because there are too few hospital beds. Joe has a tough time maintaining housing because he’s always getting evicted for trashing the place or playing loud music at night and he can’t find a job because of a criminal record that includes convictions for brandishing an air pistol and possession of cocaine.

Looking back, Hill wonders if he should have “played the school of hard knocks” and called police sooner, rather than trying to protect Joe, which may have exacerbated his behaviour.

“While I’ve tried to protect (Joe), I’ve enabled him as well. If I had to re-do it again, I would probably, at the first sign of delinquent behavior, get the police involved, because if they learn young, and learn quickly, it may be a life lesson well-taught.”

The police: “Enforcement is usually the last strike”

Calling authorities is usually a last resort for parents — and only after they’ve hit a breaking point, says Det. Const. Eduardo Dizon of the Toronto Police Service’s family violence unit at 12 Division.

They put it off because they fear their child will be charged — but police have discretion in laying charges. Stigma is also a deterrent, says Dizon, referring to the recent case of a teenager with mental health issues who was destroying his home and attacking both parents – strangling, choking and kicking them.

“There was shame or embarrassment,” he says of the parents’ hesitation in calling 911. But, he says, they did what was necessary to keep themselves, and their son, safe.

Police get a variety of calls from overwhelmed parents whose kids are acting out, sometimes because of an underlying mental health issue. Anyone apprehended under the Mental Health Act is taken to hospital for a psychiatric assessment within 72 hours. Some parents will even request a mentally ill child be detained because the kid is refusing to take medication and they feel their only recourse is court-ordered treatment.

Police are also called for information on community resources — support agencies, addiction services and children’s mental health services — and for advice on how to handle troubling behaviour, such as a kid who’s surfing disturbing websites, locking themselves in their room or engaging in anti-social behaviour.

And there are the calls of desperation from parents who fear trouble is brewing. In one such case, Dizon got a call from a single mother worried her 10-year-old is following in the footsteps of his older brothers, who are gang members.

“She’s at her wit’s end,” says Dizon, who’s working with child advocacy groups to help the boy.

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Not all families see the police as a resource, says Michael Ungar, a Dalhousie University professor of social work. He recalls a couple who hesitated calling 911 on their son, who had a serious drug addiction and was destroying the house, because they are a racial minority.

“You could see how a parent in that case would really hesitate because in our country it’s much more likely that kids from certain racial backgrounds. . . end up in the jail system at a disproportionately higher rate than white kids.”

Other families are uncomfortable calling police because they worry what neighbours will say, don’t trust law enforcement, or come from countries that view police as corrupt and oppressive.

Then, there are some families who think officers should be at their beck and call to crack down on bad behaviour at home. That’s evident in calls to police about kids breaking household rules, like missing curfew, refusing to unload the dishwasher or ignoring homework. The call taker usually explains it’s not an officer’s job to discipline children.

Sgt. Phil Moreau oversees youth programs for the York Regional Police. “Enforcement is usually the last strike,” he says. “In a lot of situations there’s not the support mechanisms in the home that help youth make healthy life choices.” In those cases, he says, “the parents can work with police to resolve issues.”

Sometimes, an arrest is the best thing to happen to someone under 18 because they won’t end up with a criminal record and will get referred to appropriate services, he says. It can put them back on track.

The No.1 thing a parent can do is be fully engaged in their kid’s life, he says.

“Some parents feel it’s an invasion of privacy to look through their children’s room,” he says. “But parents need to have a good working knowledge of all their kids’ activities: who they’re hanging out with, where they’re going and who they’re talking to, especially on social media sites.”

The defence lawyers: “Few parents take lightly picking up the phone and sending their kid back to jail”

Parents believe they retain power to hit the brakes once they’ve called police, says defence lawyer Robb MacDonald. They don’t.

In his experience, most back-pedal, telling police they’ve changed their mind because they don’t want their child convicted. But once police see reasonable grounds to lay a charge, parents often have no say.

“(Parents) lose, basically, all control over the situation and then their child is in the hands of the justice system,” he says. “And, parents are the ones who end up footing the legal bill. They’re paying me to, essentially, put out fires that they started.”

Often, he says, parents call the police when they’re acting as sureties and their child has breached bail conditions.

“Sometimes, they do it to save their bail money, but then they put the child in a really precarious situation,” he says. At that point, not only is the child already dealing with underlying charges, they are also accused of breaching bail, making it tougher to get bail again.

Defence lawyerJeff Mazinsays even with money on the line, some parents may be reluctant to call.

“There’s a conflict between one’s duty as a surety and one’s duty as a parent,” says Mazin. “Few parents take lightly picking up the phone and sending their kid back to jail, even though that’s precisely what they promised the court they would do.”

MacDonald says parents often regret calling, once they see how long, and costly, the judicial process can be.

“The parent is the victim twice over. They’re hurt from the child’s initial wrong; and it’s the parent who’s paying the bill for the legal fees, which costs them thousands of dollars.”

Youth services: “Fifty per cent of the kids are angry…But fifty per cent of the time I hear, ‘Thank You.’”

Chris Brown of East Metro Youth Services(EMYS) says kids usually feel angry and betrayed after their parents have called police on them.

“In the moment, they’re scared and upset their control has been taken away,” says the manager of clinical services at EMYS, an adolescent mental health and addictions centre in Toronto.

“I’ve never heard youth say they understood or were thankful — but other staff here have,” says Brown. “However, I have met adults, whose parents made the call when they were young, say they appreciated it because they realized that they needed intensive intervention that warranted a 911 call.”

Typically, kids feel parents are kicking them out of the house and sending them away. But Brown puts things in context, focusing not on the actual call but the circumstances for it. For instance, he explains why parents felt like the youth’s behaviour was a danger or why they had to pull their bail.

His comments are echoed by Likwa Nkala, manager of youth outreach at EMYS.

“Young people, generally, are not understanding that they have actually brought it on themselves with their behaviour and it’s easier to blame the person closest to you, especially if they picked up the phone and called the police,” says Nkala. “What a youth might see as having been a simple fight between them and their friends or someone in the community – the police see that as assault.”

Whatever the reason for the call, it can strain parent-child relationships, they say. But Nkala says parents must consider the welfare of the household, especially if children under age 16 live there because child welfare workers could get involved if they feel the home is unsafe.

Dr. Marshall Korenblum, psychiatrist-in-chief at the Hincks-Dellcrest Centre for Children and Families in Toronto, says parents may have a legal obligation to call 911 if the child is threatening harm to self or others.

“Under the Child and Family Services Act, parents are expected to act in the best interests of the child. And what is in the best interest of the child at that moment is safety,” says Korenblum. “Call 911 and get your kid to the hospital and evaluated. That’s the best way to ensure that the cause of the behaviour is going to be discovered and to ensure everybody’s safety.”

In his practice, reaction from youth is mixed.

“Fifty per cent of the kids are angry…But fifty per cent of the time I hear, ‘Thank You. I needed that. I didn’t want it at the time, and I sure didn’t go willingly, but I was out of control.’”

There are justifications in calling police, but there are also parents who call because they’re not able, or willing, to create appropriate structures for their child, saysUngar of Dalhousie Universityin Halifax.

“Some parents aren’t able to do some of the basics of tough love,” says Ungar, also the author of I Still Love You: Nine Things Troubled Kids Need From Their Parents. “I’m sort of stunned sometimes by the lack of willingness from parents to create enough structure.”

As a result, police are increasingly dealing with matters that years ago weren’t considered criminal — a phenomenon Ungar calls “up-criming.”

If parents “up-crime” a kid who’s really not that bad, and whose behaviour could have been curbed with reasonable limits, they run the risk of the child developing a negative self-view and embarking on a negative life trajectory.

He recalls the case of a teen who got into a fight with his parents and threw coins at a window, shattering it. Police were called, gave the kid a warning and recommended a family therapist. The kid felt like his parents overreacted and didn’t love him.

“He wasn’t a bad kid so it was a very awkward moment for him,” recalls Ungar.

“Before you criminalize something, think about the resources you have to support the child and create the structure and consequences that the child needs,” says Ungar. “Criminalization is definitely a path that sometimes one has to go down, but are there other resources you have? And, do you really want to criminalize this behaviour? Is it necessary to criminalize? A knife in hand? Criminal. Throwing coins at a window and yelling profanities? Maybe a family therapist, or a good talking to from a grandparent.”

How to catch them earlier:

Leena Augimeri of Child Development Institute(CDI), a children’s mental health agency in Toronto, says kids need help long before their behaviour escalates to the point of police intervention.

“If a parent is having that much difficulty with a youth you have to question: What should’ve happened before it even got to that point?” says Augimeri, director of scientific program development at CDI.

Connecting parents with children’s mental health services as early as possible is key, says Augimeri, who co-founded SNAP (Stop Now and Plan), which is a program for children under 12 who are at-risk of getting into trouble with the law. But many parents don’t know how to access resources, which is why they call police at their wits’ end. That’s why she’s revamping a checklist for educators and police to refer children under age 12 to the right services. (Children under age 12 cannot be charged with an offence.)

American research shows there’s seven years of warning signs prior to a kid being charged with a serious offence – a “seven-year incubation period.” That means a youth charged with a violent offence at age 14 was likely acting aggressively at age 7, stealing by age 9 and getting into trouble with parents, teacher or police by age 12.

“Unless something traumatic has happened, they don’t wake up at age 14 and decide they’re going to commit a serious violent offence,” says Augimeri. “Something happened over the span of this child’s life to get them to that point. So we need to think about what we should do to catch these kids and create safety nets…. These kids should not be incarcerated in youth justice facilities or adult facilities. These are children. We could’ve gotten them off that life course much earlier had they gotten to the door of the right service.”

What to do if you call the police:

Parenting expert Ann Douglas, author of Parenting Through the Storm: How to Handle the Highs, the Lows and Everything in Between, says there are key things parents should remember to do when calling police.

Remain calm when speaking with the 911 operator because you want to share important information and you can’t if you’re hysterical.

If applicable, be explicit that your child is experiencing a mental health crisis and needs to go to the hospital for emergency care.

Be explicit about what your child is doing. You’ll want the attending officer to know what the situation is before they arrive.

When police arrive, provide as much detail and information as you can. That includes doctor’s information, any medication the child is on, and strategies that help calm the kid down.