Inside the Tennessee juvenile jail where kids are 'illegally' locked in solitary for DAYS on end - and the facility's 83-year-old warden says the only way to keep them in line is to treat EVERYONE like they're in for  murder

Juveniles at a Tennessee jail are being locked up in solitary confinement for days at a time by the facility's 83-year-old superintendent, who says the facility treats everyone like they're in for murder - and has challenged lawmakers to make him stop. 

Richard L. Bean reminisces fondly on the days of capital punishment and runs his eponymous Knoxville detention center with an iron fist.

Despite state regulations all but forbidding solitary confinement except in cases of endangerment, it is still a regular tool in his arsenal. 

Kids at the facility are secluded here more than anywhere in the state, sometimes as a disciplinary measure and often for indeterminate lengths of time. 

'What we do is treat everybody like they're in here for murder,' Bean, who has run the center since the 1970s, told Pro Publica. 'You don't have a problem if you do that.' 

Many of the children housed at the 120-bed facility are awaiting trial and of those, only some are facing homicide charges.

But under Bean's stewardship, kids have been locked up for more than a week, with some reporting they are at the mercy of prison staff's whims.

Minor infractions such as laughing during meals and talking during class are enough to warrant seclusions, according to reports filed about the practice.

One child was even isolated for eight days for having head lice, something the report noted was 'a little extreme'.

In 2017, the Department of Children's Services (DCS) brought in new reforms which state that seclusion is never to be used as a punishment and only in cases where the child presents a risk to themselves or others.

The regulations came on the back of research which shows increased risk of depression, anxiety and psychosis for prisoners left alone, especially children. 

In order to have their licenses renewed, juvenile prisons are supposed to comply with the regulation.  

Authorities are well aware of Bean's improper use of seclusion, with inspectors frequently noting its use, but still the facility remains open.

In 2021, Bean introduced a new policy called 'voluntary time-out' which seems to eschew the state's laws on seclusion, but still results in kids being locked up.

'If I got in trouble for it, I believe I could talk to whoever got me in trouble and get out of it,' he said. 

He appeared to boast there was little incentive for authorities to clamp down on his antics as the DCS pays his facility $175 per day per child, with $120 per day for kids from surrounding counties.

'I mean, you’ve got to take care of the kids,” he said. 'But … you got to kind of run it like a business, too. I could make over one million dollars for the county.'

Even before the introduction of 'voluntary timeouts', inspectors had often noted Bean was using seclusion incorrectly. 

In 2018, one child told an inspector he was isolated after he forgot to bring his books to class. 

'Staff will put you in seclusion if they don't like you,' he told the inspector. 

The same inspector noted the facility 'continues to be in good standing with the DCS licensing' following a visit in October that year.

However when she returned the next day, October 17, documents show the facility was ordered to enact a corrective action plan for various problems including its use of seclusion.

Just a year later, inspectors found that seclusions had doubled at the Bean Center, with 160 kids locked up in the space of a few months.

That visit revealed that kids had been secluded for not following rules or talking back, a clear violation of the new state law.

However, the facility was given the greenlight to come off its correction plan and had its license renewed for another year.

And in 2021, Bean was not shy about telling authorities what he thought of a new policy which stipulates kids cannot be secluded for more than six hours. 

'Most people think we're running a kindergarten,' Bean told Pro Publica. 'We're running the juvenile junior jail for Knox County. And there's some tough kids — tougher than the ones in the jail, I guarantee.

'I asked them how their attitude. I can't let the kids run the place. Sometimes you get a kid, you put him in his room, and he cuss and call you everything in the books. It's hard to let him out.'

An inspector who visited in August 2021 noted Bean's disapproval and the fact its policy and procedure manual for the facility was last updated in 1999.

The superintendent was also skirting new requirements to note the time a child was released from seclusion by stamping his initials, RLB, instead of the time.

The technique is just one of the ways the facility has been able to obscure the view of its practices. As with many juvenile centers, a concern for children's privacy can sometimes mean a lack of oversight.

Former inmate Tyshon Booker, who was 16 during his stay from 2015 to 2017, said conditions at the center were harsher than adult prisons for this reason.

'They think, "Oh, they're kids. Nobody is going to do this to kids, nobody would treat kids like this." So I don't think it's as much eyes as the penitentiary,' he told the outlet.

Booker is serving a 51-year sentence for homicide, but vividly remembers being stripped to his t-shirt and boxers and placed in seclusion twice for days on end.

'I learned how to make dice out of bread,' Booker says. 'I made dice, roll the dice for hours. And then you've got to remember, we're in solitary confinement, so I'd get hungry and I'd eat the dice. So, like, just imagine, the savage life in solitary confinement — rolling dice on a dirty floor for hours,' he recalled. 'It was horrible.'

And for the seclusion incidents that were properly documented, it became clear Bean was violating the guidance around the policy and they were 'either definitively over 6 hours, or for an indeterminate amount of time'.

One case was noted of a child secluded for several weeks for fighting.

Today, Bean has adopted a new policy of 'voluntary time out' which has mean that while seclusions have plummeted, timeouts have soared.

The technique sees kids locked in their rooms, which typically contain just a bed and a toilet affixed to the wall. 

He claims the strategy is not used as punishment, but admits he will implement a voluntary timeout if kids refuse to attend school, only releasing them in the morning. 

'Next morning, we say, "You want to go to school today?:' Bean said. 'Most of them say, "Yeah, I want to go. I don’t want to be locked up."'

However, inspectors also noted that many children were not aware they could come out of solitary confinement at their own will. 

If a facility is deemed noncompliant, DCS has the capacity to freeze or slow admissions, reduce capacity or withhold a license - but none of these options have been used at the Bean Center. 

A DCS spokesman said: 'Since 2017, when new standards for juvenile detention centers became effective, the Department of Children’s Services has worked closely with the Richard L. Bean Center to address deficiencies related to the updated standards, including proper documentation regarding seclusion. 

'The Department recommended corrective action and has continued to work with the facility, as state law requires, to implement needed changes. Since March of 2022, DCS licensing staff have observed a significant and consistent improvement in the Bean Center’s quality of documentation, and in October of 2022 no deficiencies regarding seclusion practices were found. 

'Approval of the Bean Center is still pending while the facility works toward updating its policy manual.'

John Valiant, the center's chairman told WBIR Channel 10 he planned to investigate.

Although he added: 'I think this is the best facility in the state of Tennessee. It's their bedroom the solitary confinement, it's just to go to your room.'

But state representative Gloria Johnson said on X, formerly Twitter: 'It would be unacceptable for a juvenile detention administrator to keep their job after bragging to a reporter how they’ve broken the law and gotten away with it. 

'For the sake of rebuilding trust in our community, Bean needs to go immediately.' 

The outlet reported that democratic representatives from both chambers have sent a letter to DCS seeking a full audit of the facility. 

DailyMail.com has approached the DCS and Bean for comment.