Jane Doe, (a pseudonym) v. North Homes, Inc., individually, doing business as North Homes Children and Family Services and I.T.A.S.K.I.N. Juvenile Center; Devin Michael Wood, in his individual capacity; Connie Ross, in her individual and official capacities; John Does 1-5, in their individual capacities; John Does 6–10, in their individual and official capacities
No. 20-1974
United States Court of Appeals For the Eighth Circuit
August 24, 2021
Appeal from United States District Court for the District of Minnesota Submitted: March 18, 2021 Filed: August 24, 2021
Before GRUENDER, BENTON, and GRASZ, Circuit Judges.
North Homes, Inc. confined fifteen-year-old Jane Doe in its residential correctional unit where an employee sexually assaulted her for three days. No one intervened. In this case, we decide whether Doe plausibly alleged that North Homes—a private entity—qualifies as a state actor under
I. Background
At this stage, we take Doe‘s factual allegations as true and draw inferences in her favor.
North Homes owns and operates correctional and rehabilitative facilities for juveniles in Northern Minnesota. To operate I.T.A.S.K.I.N. Juvenile Center (the “Juvenile Center“), North Homes “worked in concert” with Itasca County and other counties “to provide care for minor children who were detained, incarcerated, committed, or the like, for criminal, mental health, or other protective purposes.”
An interagency agreement between Minnesota‘s Department of Corrections and its Department of Human Services authorized and licensed the Juvenile Center to run two residential units: (1) the DOC unit; and (2) the DHS unit. The agencies jointly operated those units under their interagency agreement‘s terms. Through “statutory and regulatory authority[,] and/or court orders,” North Homes
Connie Ross (North Homes‘s director and administrator) managed both units. In turn, those units supervised residents “24/7.” The units “entirely restricted” residents’ “libert[ies].” And residents could not leave “on their own volition[.]”
In early 2014, Doe, a young woman diagnosed with bipolar and substance-use disorders, arrived at the Juvenile Center. Kanabec County (Doe‘s legal custodian), and her foster parent, enrolled Doe at the Juvenile Center for mental health and behavioral help. At first, the Juvenile Center placed her in the DHS unit.
Several months later, however, staff “involuntarily detained” her in the DOC unit “for behavioral issues.” Supervisors and staff knew about, and received training on, Doe‘s serious medical needs. And by statute, they were all obligated to report child abuse (including sexual abuse) to police. See
Soon after her detainment, Devin Michael Wood—a twenty-three-year-old corrections officer for the DOC unit—“groomed and made sexual advances towards” Doe. Then, for three days, Wood “engaged in sex acts, including intercourse, with [Doe].” Those acts intensified Doe‘s serious medical needs.
For three days, no employees stepped in to help Doe despite constant monitoring. None complied with the child-abuse-reporting requirement, either. This conduct aligned with how employees (including Ross) “regularly turned a blind eye towards inappropriate and sexual relationships between residents and staff[.]” It also reflected how employees “encouraged a ‘code of silence‘” to protect their “predatory” colleagues.
On the fourth day, police arrested Wood for criminal sexual conduct. Blaming Doe for Wood‘s arrest, staff members verbally harassed her. The harassment triggered even more emotional and psychological harm. Despite knowing about the verbal harassment, Ross and others did not stop it.
With the arrest fallout still ongoing, Doe told Ross about “another staff member . . . engaging in a sexual relationship with a minor resident.” Ross responded by directing employees to detain, punish, and silence Doe—in the DOC unit.
Months later, Wood pled guilty to three counts of third-degree sexual conduct. See
Doe sued North Homes, Ross, and Wood, as well as other employees, alleging three § 1983 counts: (1) Eighth and Fourteenth Amendment claims against the employees; (2) a Monell claim against North Homes and Ross for creating an environment “where children . . . were regularly subjected to sexual abuse“; and (3) a First Amendment claim against Ross.
While characterizing North Homes as a “nominally private entity,” Doe alleged that “[it] acted under color of state law because [it] fulfilled the public function of juvenile incarceration, detainment, and commitment, and acted in concert with state actors in denying [Doe] her federal civil rights.” By virtue of their employment at North Homes, Doe‘s complaint treated all defendant employees as state actors, too. Ultimately, the district court saw “at most, the passive involvement of the state in the circumstances leading to her alleged constitutional deprivations.” Concluding that there was a lack of state-actor allegations, the district court held that Doe‘s § 1983 claims failed.1
We review Rule 12(b)(6) dismissals de novo. See Magee v. Trs. of Hamline Univ., 747 F.3d 532, 534 (8th Cir. 2014). In doing so, we use judicial “experience and common sense” to decide if Doe‘s “complaint crosse[d] over the plausibility threshold.” See Ashcroft v. Iqbal, 556 U.S. 662, 678 (2009) (quoting Bell Atl. Corp. v. Twombly, 550 U.S. 544, 570 (2007)); Magee, 747 F.3d at 535. So, we ask if Doe‘s allegations let us “draw the reasonable inference that [North Homes] is liable for the misconduct alleged.” Id.
Only a state actor can face § 1983 liability. See Youngblood v. Hy-Vee Food Stores, 266 F.3d 851, 855 (8th Cir. 2001). But “in a few limited circumstances,” a private entity “can qualify as a state actor,” including “when the private entity performs a traditional, exclusive public function,” and “when the government acts jointly with the private entity.” Halleck v. Manhattan Cmty. Access Corp., 139 S. Ct. 1921, 1928 (2019) (internal citations omitted).
Still, the state-actor question presents a “necessarily fact-bound inquiry[.]” Lugar v. Edmonson Oil Co., 457 U.S. 922, 939 (1982). First, we ask if the claimed deprivation “resulted from the exercise of a right or privilege having its source in state authority.” Id. And second, we ask if “under the facts of this case,” we may “appropriately characterize[]” North Homes as a state actor. Id. “Our ultimate conclusion must turn on the particular facts of the case, since only by sifting facts and weighing circumstances can the nonobvious involvement of the State in private conduct be attributed its true significance.” Wickersham v. City of Columbia, 481 F.3d 591, 597 (8th Cir. 2007) (quoting Burton v. Wilmington Parking Auth., 365 U.S. 715, 722 (1961) (cleaned up)).
Here, we must decide if Doe plausibly alleged that North Homes performed a public function when it detained her.
The power to decide to incarcerate a person rests with the state.2 See, e.g., Chapman v. United States, 500 U.S. 453, 465 (1991) (explaining that “the Government may not punish” a person “unless and until it proves his guilt . . . at a criminal trial” with “the relevant constitutional guarantees[,]” and then post-conviction, “the court may impose, whatever punishment is authorized by statute” if the punishment does not violate the Constitution); see also Rosborough v. Mgmt. & Training Corp., 350 F.3d 459, 461 (5th Cir. 2003) (per curiam) (“Clearly, confinement of wrongdoers—though sometimes delegated to private entities—is a fundamentally governmental function.“).
Even so, we can see how that conclusion may seem at odds with Richardson v. McKnight‘s statement: “correctional functions have never been exclusively public.” 521 U.S. 399, 405 (1997). But Richardson expressly limited its scope to § 1983 immunity, not § 1983 liability. Id. at 413; accord Holly v. Scott, 434 F.3d 287, 299-300 (4th Cir. 2006) (Motz, J., concurring in judgment) (explaining that Richardson “deals only with a private person‘s immunity from liability“). And, in upholding a qualified-immunity denial, Richardson expressly left the state-actor question for the district court to decide. 521 U.S. at 413–14. While one circuit saw Richardson as dispositive on the public-function question, others did not. Compare Holly, 434 F.3d at 293, with Rosborough, 350 F.3d at 460–61 (“We agree with the Sixth Circuit and with those district courts that have found that private prison-management corporations and their employees may be sued under § 1983 by a prisoner who has suffered a constitutional injury.“); see also Skelton v. Pri-Cor, Inc., 963 F.2d 100, 102 (6th Cir. 1991) (private-prison management performed traditional state function).
Against that legal landscape and through the Iqbal standard, we sift the facts alleged here. Doe alleged that North Homes cared for juveniles whose liberties the state (counties) decided to restrict. She also alleged that the state (agencies) agreed to empower North Homes to run two units, through which North Homes could deprive residents of their liberties. And she alleged that the state (legislature, agencies, and courts) gave North Homes the power to detain residents in a correctional facility whenever it wanted and for whatever reason it saw fit.
While conceding Doe‘s inability to leave the DOC unit, North Homes could not tell us why she could not leave (i.e., whose authority kept her there). True, involuntary commitment may not amount to a public function3 but Doe‘s complaint did not rest on the involuntary character of her commitment. Cf. Robert S. v. Stetson School, Inc., 256 F.3d 159, 166–67 (3d Cir. 2001) (no involuntary detention when minor child‘s mother and state committed him to residential school). Instead, she alleged that North Homes moved her to, and detained her in, a corrections unit, where the alleged abuse occurred. See Howell, 976 F.3d at 753 (holding a foster home was not a state actor in part because it “has no power to remove children and place them . . . in juvenile correctional facilities—the kinds of things state actors traditionally may do“). She also alleged that North
Construing the complaint in her favor, we conclude that Doe plausibly alleged that North Homes‘s exercise of a public function (the state‘s authority to detain her) caused her involuntary detainment in a corrections unit. As a result, we disagree with the decision to dismiss Doe‘s § 1983 claims at the pleading stage.4
III. Conclusion
For these reasons, we reverse the judgment and remand the case for proceedings consistent with this opinion.
GRUENDER, Circuit Judge, dissenting.
To state a claim under § 1983, a plaintiff must allege facts sufficient to show that the defendant acted under color of state law and that the defendant‘s conduct violated a federally protected right. Green v. Byrd, 972 F.3d 997, 1000 (8th Cir. 2020). Only the first element is at issue here.
Although “§ 1983 excludes from its reach merely private conduct,” Campbell v. Reisch, 986 F.3d 822, 824 (8th Cir. 2021), “a private entity can qualify as a state actor,” triggering § 1983 liability, “in a few limited circumstances,” Manhattan Cmty. Access Corp. v. Halleck, 587 U.S. ---, 139 S. Ct. 1921, 1928 (2019). One such circumstance is “when the private entity performs a traditional, exclusive public function.” Id. “The Court has stressed that ‘very few’ functions fall into [this] category.” Id. at 1929 (quoting Flagg Brothers, Inc. v. Brooks, 436 U.S. 149, 158 (1978)). “It is not enough that the federal, state, or local government exercised the function in the past, or still does.” Id. The private party must be performing a function that was “traditionally the exclusive prerogative of the State.” Rendell-Baker v. Kohn, 457 U.S. 830, 842 (1982).
The court concludes that Doe alleged facts sufficient to show that North Homes qualifies as a state actor under the public-function test. I disagree. Although the court alludes to several functions, it never identifies one that is both “the exclusive prerogative of the State,” id., and a function that Doe alleged North Homes was performing when she suffered the abuse.
For example, the court alludes to the function of incarceration as punishment for a crime. See ante, at 5-6 (citing Chapman v. United States, 500 U.S. 453, 465 (1991), for the proposition that it is the government‘s business to “punish” a person once “it proves his guilt beyond a reasonable doubt at a criminal trial,” and Rosborough v. Management & Training Corp., 350 F.3d 459, 461 (5th Cir. 2003) (per curiam), for the proposition that “confinement of wrongdoers” is a public function). But even assuming that incarceration as punishment for a crime is an exclusive public function, but see Holly v. Scott, 434 F.3d 287, 293 (4th Cir. 2006) (“The Supreme Court‘s analysis in [Richardson v. McKnight, 521 U.S. 399 (1997)] precludes argument that the operation of a prison is a traditionally exclusive state function.“), it was not a function that Doe alleged North Homes was performing
The court also alludes to the function of involuntary detention generally, whether criminal or civil. See ante, at 5 & n.2 (noting that the state has the power not only “to incarcerate a person” but also “to civilly detain a person“). Again, however, involuntary detention is not a function that Doe alleged North Homes was performing when she suffered the abuse. On the contrary, the complaint indicated that Doe‘s foster mother and Kanabec County enrolled Doe in North Homes. See Robert S. v. Stetson Sch., Inc., 256 F.3d 159, 163, 166-67 (3d Cir. 2001) (Alito, J.) (holding that a minor‘s placement in a school that did not allow students “to leave campus without supervision” “was not involuntary’ in the [relevant] sense” because “his legal custodian, DHS, wanted him placed there, and his mother consented“). And in any event, involuntary detention is not an exclusive public function. See, e.g.,
So, what does the court think transformed North Homes into a stator actor for § 1983 purposes? The court stresses Doe‘s allegation that the abuse occurred after she was transferred to a unit in the corrections facility due to behavioral issues. See ante, at 7. But the location where North Homes housed Doe does not change the fact that North Homes was neither incarcerating her as punishment for a crime nor detaining her “involuntarily” in the relevant sense. See Robert S., 256 F.3d at 166-67. If involuntary criminal confinement is likely not an exclusive public function, see Richardson, 521 U.S. at 405 (“[C]orrectional functions have never been exclusively public.“), and involuntary civil confinement is definitely not an exclusive public function, see Spencer, 864 F.2d at 1380-81 (“[I]nvoluntary extrajudicial commitment to private institutions has long been commonplace.“), then it is difficult to see why voluntary civil confinement should nonetheless qualify as an exclusive public function simply because it occurs in a unit licensed by the state department of corrections. Thus, I agree with the district court that Doe did not allege facts sufficient to show that North
I also agree with the district court that Doe did not allege facts sufficient to show that North Homes qualified as a state actor under the joint-action test. “[A] private party may [also] be held liable on a § 1983 claim if he is a willful participant in joint action with the State or its agents.” Mershon v. Beasley, 994 F.2d 449, 451 (8th Cir. 1993) (internal quotation marks omitted). That said, the joint-action standard imposes a high bar. To survive a motion to dismiss, a plaintiff “must allege, at the very least, that there was a mutual understanding, or a meeting of the minds, between the private party and the state actor.” Id. Importantly, “mere approval or acquiescence of the state” is not enough. Wickersham v. City of Columbia, 481 F.3d 591, 597 (8th Cir. 2007). Further, the plaintiff must allege a “close nexus not merely between the state and the private party, but between the state and the alleged deprivation itself.” Id. (internal quotation marks omitted). After carefully reviewing Doe‘s complaint, the district court concluded that it fell short of this demanding standard. After doing the same, I agree.
For the foregoing reasons, I would affirm the district court‘s dismissal of Doe‘s complaint. Accordingly, I respectfully dissent.