By Attorney Robert T. Torres
For Variety

THERE he was, a chubby little boy wearing a cowboy hat at a small “Paniolo” (Hawaiian Cowboy) corral in Hawaii. He smiled as he sat on the top rail, looking at you, with the horses in the background. The picture, though, belied the years of heartache and pain that would come. To have a pellet lodged in his brain and a glass eye before his teen years. To shuffle into court as a man-child in chains, in an orange jumpsuit after stabbing an innocent man. To be parked in a small cold cell for 15 years, devoid of treatment and care, in the “Warehouse” of the Department of Corrections.
The Mexican poet/activist Guillermo Gomez-Pena asks us, “What if?” What if we were the ones who left our island to go work as gardeners, maids, farmers or construction workers? What if those 200,000 Californians crossed the border each month to work in Mexico? What if they were called “Waspanos” or “Waspbacks”? He asks, “What if ‘yo’ were you and ‘tu fueras’ I, Mister?” How would you like them apples? Or grapes?
Who cares? So he accosted a tourist on the Beach Pathway and frightened the tourist. “Yes, we should really do something about him.” He stabbed and killed someone because he is sick. “Yes, we should really contact Washington, D.C. and get some funding for him.” He talks to himself and children are frightened. “Yes, we should get him some help.” What is the secret code? “Treatment”: lock him up. “Help”: put him away. “Do something”: Warehouse. The Warehouse? Corrections. CHC. It doesn’t matter: “Out of sight and out of mind.” Albert Einstein told us that insanity is “Doing the same thing all over again and expecting different results.” And the experts tell us that one in three people suffer from some form of mental illness. So if you check and find that your two friends are ok, then it is you!
What if that boy in the Warehouse is your boy? What if that little girl talking to herself and hearing voices is your daughter? What your child’s teacher tells you that even though your child is “special” with “special needs,” the only thing that is “special” in education is that there is no money, especially for him or her.
Election season is coming and the insanity is arriving soon. Let’s do the same thing all over again and expect different results. Let’s close our eyes and tap our shoes and wish we were home all over again. One psychiatrist. One psychologist. Hundreds of patients. One dollar. Even Dave Womack at Sandcastle would have a hard time working his magic under this water. So, instead let’s go back to the time-tested favorite: let’s pass a law. Feel good. The old lock ‘em up and park ‘em in Susupe approach. Sign the bill into law and let’s clap our hands. As the former assistant AG now occupying the ombudsman’s office said, “What we have here is an unfunded mandate.” So send me to Hawaii to speak with the experts and I’ll get back to you. And that means what? “You expect me to solve a problem without funding?” As my three year-old might ask, “Daddy, what mean?” But yet it is “their” fault because they didn’t take their medicine. One person kills. No action. One tourist complains. Immediate action. So we should lock them up to protect them from themselves and to protect our...tourists. More wise ideas from Capital Hill.
What if that boy in the picture was yours? Today’s “challenging” student is tomorrow’s what? Problem? He is “brabu” and cute today. But if he becomes strange and non-conforming, let’s send him to the Warehouse. Nothing that a few folks in white coats in the ward in the Warehouse can’t take care of right? A few syringes. A chemical lobotomy. A padded room. A shut door. Yeah, I got your padded room. Right here. What if? Let’s do that all over again.