CLEVELAND, Ohio — Let me start with an uncomfortable disclaimer: This column is going to poke holes in a policy that its supporters say was designed to protect children.
I understand why that makes people uneasy. When lawmakers say they’re acting to keep kids safe, most of us want to believe the solution must be a good one. But public safety policy shouldn’t be judged by its intentions. It should be judged by whether it actually works.
Let’s consider a recent ordinance passed by Middleburg Heights City Council in late February.
The law, which mirrors one already on the books in Fairview Park, bars registered sex offenders from entering parks, playgrounds, recreation centers and other public spaces across the city, including City Hall, meaning some residents are effectively excluded from the civic spaces where the community gathers.
But it goes further than similar bans in neighboring suburbs by also applying to anyone convicted of what Ohio law defines as an “offense of violence.” That sounds straightforward until you realize how broad that category is. Yes, it includes serious crimes like assault or murder. But it also sweeps in lesser offenses that may involve no physical harm at all — such as inducing panic.
The ordinance also makes no distinction between crimes committed recently and crimes committed decades ago. And that means the law doesn’t just target the …
When Bills Become Criminal Written by Quiet too long — 03/17/2026
When a city bars a parent from parks, fairs, carnivals, parades, church events, and the public spaces where childhood and community actually happen, it quietly bars the child as well. Kids don’t go to a carnival alone, and no caring parent sends them off without someone there to hold their hand or share the moment. Families skip parades, avoid fairs, and even miss church gatherings because the parent can’t be present. A restriction aimed at one person becomes a shadow over the whole household, pushing families to choose between staying together or participating in normal life. That pressure breaks families long before any “public safety” goal is met.
And when you remember that one‑third of American adults have a criminal record, and each of them is part of a family, the impact multiplies until well over 200 million people across all 50 states would be touched if these bans spread. These laws don’t just target individuals — they reshape entire households and hollow out community life. That isn’t freedom, it isn’t happiness, and it isn’t the America our values promise. The real question is whether America still cares enough to notice.
Disclaimer
Judges in every state swear an oath to uphold the Constitution of the United States and the constitution of their state. That oath requires them to protect the rights guaranteed to every person—due process, equal protection, and the freedoms contained in the Bill of Rights. This comment is a critique of civil laws that, in practice, restrict those rights despite being labeled “non‑punitive.” It is not a criticism of any judge personally, but a reminder that civil restrictions can place courts in conflict with the very constitutional protections they are sworn to defend.