IT IS bitterly cold and foggy at 10.30am on the Tuesday before Christmas, but that hasn't deterred the groups of chattering teenagers from gathering at the ice-skating rink in Smithfield, Dublin. Excited girls in skinny jeans and Ugg boots prepare to get their skates on and their screams resound through the square.

Across the road, they are watched by a smaller group of teenagers. Some are accompanied by parents and siblings; others are quite alone.

Everyone's eyes are drawn to the action on the rink and everyone is silent, until the squeaking sound of shutters opening makes them turn around.

The Children's Court has opened for the day.

"This is where crime is born, in this very building, " says a court worker wearily. "Anyone who is serious about crime starts their career off in these courts and you see them coming back time and time again. There's too much leniency. The word gets out on the streets that they can get away with it, and they do."

This morning, there are 26 cases to be heard.

Twenty-five of them are boys, all between the ages of 14 and 17. Anxious mothers with tired eyes, steely grandmothers, subdued siblings and a few fathers fill the court foyer. The older boys resemble men and maintain a mask of steady indifference. They've been here before. But the younger ones have barely left childhood and cannot hide the fear they are obviously feeling.

Court 55 is a daunting place to some, a longfamiliar sight to many. A small court room with room for a judge, a couple of clerks, a bench for the barristers and a seat for the defendant, people step over each other's legs and the door is constantly opening and closing as family members and garda�? wander in and out.

Petty crime is the byword of the day. These young defendants have almost all pleaded guilty to crimes such as damage to property, unlawful entry, damage to garda cars and motorbikes, mobile phone and wallet theft. They walk in, sit down and say nothing. If the judge asks if they need legal aid, they nod silently. The legal jargon of their barristers goes over their heads and is only clarified by a few quiet words from their representative.

The boys who come into the courtroom via the cells downstairs are all serving sentences in St Patrick's Institution for Young Offenders. Their clothes are shabbier than the bright tracksuits of the others and they seem more hardened. Only when it comes to their families do they let their guards down.

Sixteen-year-old Robert listens in silence to a garda outlining how he allegedly robbed a man's mobile in Temple Bar, with three other youths, by claiming to have a knife. He is currently in custody in St Pat's and Judge John O'Neill decides the matter is too serious and must go before the district court. The boy looks like this is all irrelevant to him.

"Can I see my mam before I go?" he asks suddenly, loudly. There is a pause. "She doesn't seem to be here, " the parole officer says. Robert is silent. "If your mam is in the building, you can of course see her, " the judge says. Robert is brought back down to the cells. Later in the afternoon, he is returned to St Pat's.

Failing almost everyone Over a year ago, it was decided that the Children's Court is failing almost everyone who goes through its doors. Detention, which should be a last resort, is being doled out frequently. Probation services are not adequately resourced and there is often a failure to communicate with the young people or use appropriate language with them. In as many as one-third of cases, children's parents are not turning up in court.

"At the moment, the detention sentences given out in the Children's Court are simply creating a path to Mountjoy, " says Dr Ursula Kilkelly, author of the report, The Children's Court: A Children's Rights Audit. "There's a real problem of children being criminalised unnecessarily, without any attempts to address their behaviour.

The supports are simply not in place for them."

It has been recommended that St Patrick's Institution should be closed down by 2011. The same conclusion was reached over 20 years ago by the Whitaker Committee, but no moves have ever been made to put the closure into action.

The building, regime and conditions of St Patrick's have been found time and time again to be totally inappropriate for the young people detained there. But the non-custodial options introduced by the Children's Act in 2001 remain unimplemented and judges have little choice but to detain young offenders.

"Out of 10 community sanctions to keep children out of the detention system, only two have been implemented, and these were already covered by the 1908 act, " says Kilkelly. "These are fines and curfews. The others are things like retraining young people, intensive supervision, residential supervision and family support. The family welfare conference was introduced to allow everyone involved to work with the child, but they haven't really taken off. It could make such a difference in keeping a child away from somewhere like St Pat's, where they are only likely to become more criminalised."

Christmas inside Seventeen-year-old James stands outside court with his mother, his aunt and the garda who arrested him. He knows he will be spending Christmas in St Pat's for repeated offending and he is trying to be pragmatic about it.

It started with petty theft and criminal damage - a man's wallet, scraping a motorbike. Then he broke curfews and failed to turn up in court. His father died recently and his mother can't control him. Detention seems to be the only option left.

"I do want to get out of it, " he says earnestly. "I don't want to keep doing this. I want to get my life back."

The garda, who knows him well, is encouraging. "This is the time to make some decisions, " he says matter-of-factly. "You still have time to get your education and a decent job. It's up to you, because this is your last chance. I'll help you."

In the court room, James has barely sat down before the proceedings are over. He is remanded in custody until mid-January, when he will appear before the court again. Christmas will be spent in St Pat's.

"I'm glad he's going back in, " says his mother frankly. "He's safer in there than he is at home where he'll only be getting into more trouble."

Cycle of bail and remand If morewas done in the community to keep children occupied and in school, the Children's Court could stop being a revolving-door system, Dr Pat Dolan, Director of Child and Family Services at NUI Galway believes.

"These children are caught in a continuous cycle of bail and remand and there's no better outcome for them, " he says. "The notion of prevention has not been addressed and it is so important. Many of these kids are from poor backgrounds, they have performance problems in school and there are no resources in their community. It is inevitable that their leisure time will turn out to be less than constructive."

Instead of youth clubs and activities being introduced, young people are left to their own devices. When this leads to deviant behaviour, they are catapulted into a criminal-justice system that many will find difficult to ever get out of.

"Once kids are separated from their families, the likelihood of success with them diminishes rapidly, " said Dolan. "The notion of locking up kids is not right and there's no evidence to prove it's working. Before you know it, all you are left with is a hardened criminal."

Parents' dilemma Seventeen-year-old Gareth has been in St Pat's now for three days. He was arrested after he failed to make it into court and this is the third time it has happened. Both his parents are in court and they watch anxiously as their son is brought up from the cells.

Gareth has tried to sort out his mistakes, says his barrister. Yes, he missed court, but he went to his local garda station the next day to tell them.

He is guilty of petty crime, including damage to a garda car, but has never been violent. He has a young son and he wants to go home to his family for Christmas.

Judge John O'Neill looks through the files and considers aloud the seriousness of this happening three times. The arresting garda states that Gareth should not be allowed out as he is likely to re-offend. Gareth's mother clenches her hand. There is a long, tense pause.

"If he can make Euro500 bail, " Judge O'Neill says finally. Gareth's parents look stricken, his mother lets out an inadvertent cry and he sits back in his chair. He knows they only have Euro150 available in cash.

"I want you to understand that I appreciate the difficult situation I'm creating for you, " the judge tells the parents. "But this is all Gareth's doing.

This is his fault and I want him to realise that if he does not stick to the conditions of his bail, then someone is going to lose Euro500."

Gareth must go back to St Pat's for the night, while his parents try to get the money together.

"How can we afford it?" asks his father as they leave. "I have my wages, " says his mother.

"We should be OK. What else can we do? I can't bear to think of him in that place at Christmas."

Writing on the wall Outside the courthouse, the ice-skating rink is a blur of noise and colour. Now late afternoon, it is packed full of revellers, skating to the beat of Christmas tunes. Inside, the music echoes eerily in the dark, graffiti-marked toilets.

A scrawl in black marker on the back of a door stands out from the proclamations of teenage love affairs. "Rita was here, 19-09-2006, " it says. "I won't be back."