He is watching through a shatterproof glass wall.

Visitors have entered 18-year-old Jacob Valencia's guarded world inside the Youth Diagnostic and Development Center - a place that houses some of New Mexico's most dangerous young citizens.

The Albuquerque center, known to most as YDDC, is the very heartbeat of the state's efforts to transform its often-troubled juvenile justice system.

All teens committed to time in the system - currently, there are 276 - will enter YDDC first. They'll be evaluated for placement, based on their needs and their propensity for violence.

Those who are low-risk and nonviolent eventually will be moved to a dwindling list of other options, including Camp Sierra Blanca near Ruidoso. But until they leave, if they leave, they'll be on the same campus as the high-risk, high-profile teens convicted of murder and manslaughter.

Sometimes, the mix can have catastrophic results.

In September, when a 15-year-old boy told investigators he was raped by three roommates during his first night at YDDC, the center drew intense scrutiny from child advocates and legislators, who question if the center is a safe place for its 150 male and female residents.

YDDC's problems - and potential for problems - intersect with November's closing of the Boys School in Springer. That leaves the Albuquerque center as the state's only secure lockup for teens who have killed and others considered a threat to public safety.

Critics say it's a time bomb.

"I think YDDC should be a safe place for everybody. Unfortunately it's a dangerous place for some," said Presiding Children's Court Judge Marie Baca, who sends the hard-core cases there.

"I've always worried about what can happen to a kid in a place like that," she said. "Generally, most judges are reluctant to send kids off to YDDC. It really is a last resort."

Baca said she trusts YDDC will make a difference, even if the offender learns only to value his freedom. But the center should do much more, she said.

"We need to provide the staffing, the training, the resources they need at YDDC and through our entire system," she said.

"We can all do more. YDDC is our problem. We, as a community, need to do more to help our children in trouble, not just YDDC."

State officials contend YDDC, once it gets past natural growing pains associated with an entire change in philosophy, will make teen offenders and the society at large safer - and better.

"Our mission is not to lock kids up," said Roger Gillespie, director of juvenile justice services. "We must prepare them to go back to their community. They are going back."

A campus environment

Recent visitors to Jacob Valencia's world - in this case, media members invited for a tour of YDDC in October - ask to talk with the resident pushing a vacuum behind the glass.

Valencia is willing. He says he's the porter for the Esperanza Cottage for high-risk males and is responsible for cleaning the day room where residents watch TV.

The door to his private room is open and he allows the visitors to step in. He sleeps alone, locked in a white cubicle with cinder-block walls and tile floor. His bunk is covered with a thin pad wrapped neatly in a fuzzy blanket.

Valencia says he feels safe at YDDC.

"There's more lockdown here, and we don't get that much privileges," he says, comparing YDDC with the Boys School, where he lived for a year of his two-year burglary sentence.

His move to Albuquerque in September, along with nine others from the Boys School, caused a spike in the number of residents housed at YDDC - and an uproar over increased violence and inadequate staffing.

The staff at YDDC - and state officials intent on reforming the juvenile system - appear eager to showcase teens like Valencia, who seem to be making progress.

But the visitors on this three-hour tour in October never see the other side: children who've been hurt by, or are hurting, fellow residents and guards.

The center, located on north Edith Boulevard, is secured by an 18-foot security fence - erected in the spring of 2004 at a cost of $304,000. It stands between city residents and the state's most feared juvenile offenders.

The partial list of YDDC's residents is sobering: Mister Saunders of Albuquerque, convicted of a 2002 brutal murder at age 13, is there; 16-year-old Cody Posey of Hondo, who killed three family members, will return to YDDC after his yearlong stay at the nearby psychiatric treatment hospital.

And there are others, many others, whose crimes didn't make the papers - but whose long and detailed rap sheets look just as troubling.

State officials this fall counted 11 offenders serving juvenile sentences for murder, involuntary manslaughter and vehicular homicide. Most of them are incarcerated at YDDC.

The high-profile juveniles will serve out their sentences here, some as long as seven years or until age 21. The annual cost of housing one resident is $75,000.

However, center Director Bruce Langston and other state officials stress YDDC is not a prison.

They say it's a rehabilitation center - a therapeutic model for changing criminal behavior and a place where lives can, and should, be turned around.

To make rehabilitation happen, officials of the Children, Youth and Families Department, the state agency that operates the center, say the most violent teens must be housed in Albuquerque because the services and treatment they require are here.

Model residents, those who have chalked up points for good behavior, say they have been helped by the change.

"I've done more positive stuff in here than ever on the outs," said Vanessa Harper, 15, of Rio Rancho, during a supervised interview.

Harper, whose offenses include burglary, bringing a deadly weapon to campus, harassment, auto theft and battery, has had pet therapy and learned to train dogs nobody wanted.

"It's not a bad place," Harper said, "but I wouldn't want to come back."

Behind the fence, YDDC looks more like a college campus than jail. Its well-kept 13 acres include roses, grass, concrete walkways, a basketball court and green-roofed cottages shaded by aging elms.

There's also a gymnasium, an Olympic-size swimming pool and diploma-granting Foothill High.

Residents live in 10 cottages. Only one, the 24-bed, all-girls Life Future Ambition unit, is outside the fence. Seven girls live there, all model residents. Others are grouped based on their crimes and their needs. There's Sandia Cottage for sex offenders; Loma Cottage for violent males; Sage Cottage for violent females; and Manzano Cottage for girls, also known as the Girls School.

A rough transition

Langston stepped into the superintendent's job 18 months ago after the Camino Nuevo boys prison next door was closed and plans to close the Boys School were sealed in an agreement between CYFD and the American Civil Liberties Union.

ACLU monitors visit YDDC frequently. The organization's lawyers declined to comment for this story, but confirmed safety at the center is a constant concern.

Safety is the main issue as well for lawmakers, who have called for tighter security at YDDC. Protection of its residents also is the thrust of a lawsuit filed by the family of the reported rape victim.

"We hope our lawsuit will affect change so this doesn't happen to anyone else's child," said Sam Bregman, an Albuquerque lawyer who represents victim's mother.

Langston, a former adult corrections administrator, says he knew he was "jumping into a tough situation," when he took the YDDC job, but adds he "saw an opportunity to help these kids move on."

It has not been a stellar year. The center spent much of 2006 dealing with staff shortages and frustrated guards. By mid-November, 16 new correctional officers had been hired, leaving six more vacancies to be filled. National standards and the agreement with the ACLU mandate one guard for every eight residents during the day.

In testimony to a legislative committee this month, CYFD officials admitted staffing ratios needed to be improved. The department's budget proposal includes $1.7 million for 17 additional YDDC staff positions and an additional $1.8 million to hire more staff systemwide.

"They can't do more until they get more staffing," said Rep. Danice Picraux, an Albuquerque Democrat who leads the Legislative Health and Human Services Committee. "They have to get that staffing up. YDDC is not a picnic job. The staff needs to be in control instead of the gangs."

Picraux and several members of her committee toured YDDC in early November.

"I was trying to get a sense of whether these kids were going to be able to function out in life," she said. "I didn't see a great deal of hope."

The ideal population for YDDC is 120 to 130 residents, but it has been operating at about 150. It was 158 the night of the reported rape.

Langston said he wants to have a full complement of 200 employees and stabilize the staffing so guards don't have to work 16-hour days.

Recruiting of guards will be ongoing and a private security firm was hired to help take the pressure off center guards, said Dorian Dodson, CYFD secretary-designate.

A picture of discontent

A longtime guard contends staffing shortages and gang violence at the center are chronic.

Roger Stansbury, a 14-year employee, said he complained to his superiors before he went public. No other guards would comment, saying Stansbury had to speak for them because they could lose their jobs.

Stansbury said he took the risk because "I'm tired of the lies."

He said gangs are in control of the center and staff is highly vulnerable to injuries.

Stansbury was critical of positive reinforcement he claims replaced discipline for the residents.

"They say: `This is what you need to keep them happy. Give them a candy bar and a can of soda and don't hurt the psyches of our children.' "

The turmoil inside is apparent from the increasing number of calls from YDDC to State Police for assistance and criminal investigations.

Twenty-five calls to the State Police in the last nine months set a three-year record. An investigation in September into the rape allegation resulted in indictments against three center residents who now face adult penalties.

The 15-year-old boy claimed he was attacked by roommates during his first night at the center and was told, "This is your initiation," the victim's mother said.

A second sexual assault reported in September also was investigated by State Police. No charges have been filed to date.

"There's not enough staff and not enough money to control that population and educate and rehabilitate them while they are there," said Lara Keithley, a court-appointed attorney for one of the boys indicted in the rape case.

"I think the system's broken, and we need to fix it. We need to put resources on the outside to prevent putting kids inside," she added.

CYFD Secretary-designate Dodson, who has worked alongside guards in the cottages, said guards feel positive about the changes and the training they have received.

"I don't think safety is a problem. We can manage safety," she said in a November interview.

"Folks are very excited about working with kids rather than being jailers," she said of the YDDC staff. "We need to recognize and I need to honor the work being done already. There are some very remarkable people within those walls.

"We all want to improve the system."

Doing his time

Jacob Valencia said he earned points for good behavior at YDDC and was awarded with opportunities.

His porter's job paid 50 cents per hour.

But Valencia said there wasn't much to do at the center - unlike the Boys School in Springer, where his choices were woodworking, screen printing and graphic arts. He also took a baking class and learned to repair computers.

At YDDC, he was told he could take college-level classes on the Internet through Central New Mexico Community College, but that didn't happen.

"I kick back, sleep in and watch TV," he told the visitors.

Dominos and cards helped pass the time in the day room when the cleaning was done.

"It's a privilege instead of being in my room," he said of his chores. "I'm doing something constructive."

And yet, Valencia's time at the center suddenly ended.

In an early November telephone interview from the Santa Fe County Juvenile Detention Center, Valencia said he was moved from YDDC and nobody told him why.

He'll serve out the rest of his sentence in Santa Fe, where CYFD has contracted for 30 beds to help relieve the crowding at YDDC.

When he's finally free, Valencia wants to enroll at New Mexico Highlands University and get a degree in electronics.

"I want to program computer games. I decided to do this before I was incarcerated," he said.

He was locked up twice for a total of three years in three different state facilities.

"I just feel I have had enough of this," Valencia said. "I just tell myself every day, `I've had enough.' It's time I grew up and worked on things in my own life."