In previous posts around the holidays I've talked a lot about how difficult holidays are for people in prison. Prisoners are separated from their loved ones, feeling a deep sense of isolation and loneliness. But prisoners are not the only ones feeling the grief of their absence from family. Families themselves also suffer deep sadness from the absence of their incarcerated loved ones.
Today, I want to honor the families of prisoners, and many of you, my readers, have incarcerated loved ones. I want to acknowledge that our families also suffer because we are in prison. Those empty chairs at holiday meals, the missed birthday celebrations and other important family events all leave a hollow feeling in the hearts of those we love. Prison separates families, leaving mothers without their sons (or daughters), and children without their fathers (or mothers). Wives (or husbands/grandparents) are left to raise families on their own, and spouses are left without partners to be present with them.
You deserved better from us.
For many prisoners, the loss of time with family deepens our thankfulness for those we left without us. It causes us to think deeply about those who we have disappointed, and the separation strengthens our appreciation for grandparents, parents, siblings, spouses, and our children. This Thanksgiving may you know that we are thankful for you. We're thankful for all you do to support us through our incarceration, and we're especially thankful that you are a part of our lives.
Happy Thanksgiving to all those who love us, even through the consequences of our bad choices! We love you!
Tuesday, November 26, 2019
Monday, November 18, 2019
Clean Slate Legislation Will Give Fresh Start to Many Former Prisoners
Starting life over after leaving prison is difficult. I understand returning citizens face a lot of hurdles. Many prisoners have lost connections and relationships they had prior to coming to prison. Most have lost their homes, cars, and other material things. Most also have no savings to draw from, and having a felony can make getting some jobs difficult. Renting a home or apartment often requires background and credit checks, so finding a place that will accept a felon who has no credit to speak of can be challenging.
Residency and employment restrictions for former felons can sometimes be so restrictive that, without the support of friends and family, many returning citizens find themselves unemployed and homeless. Some positive changes have been made in laws and public policies, especially concerning employment forms requiring information about felonies; however, prejudices and discrimination against returning citizens continues to be a problem for some returning citizens. Policies and laws that discriminate against people with the scarlet letter "F" (for felon) are deeply entrenched. That's why I am so pleased to hear about clean slate legislation that has strong bipartisan support in Michigan.
A package of seven expungement bills has currently passed the House and is waiting for committee action in the Senate. Together, these bills will greatly expand expungement options for former felons. Current expungement laws are very narrow, and most eligible people don't know they are eligible. The new laws, if passed, will make expungement automatic after three to ten years (depending on severity), and make non-automatic expungement available even for assaultive felonies after five to seven years.
According to University of Michigan criminologist Sonja Starr, when a former prisoner has remained crime-free for five years after release from prison, he or she is less likely to commit crimes than citizens with no criminal record. This fact makes automatic and more expansive expungement options a no-brainer. Clearing someone's record when they've proven they've reformed just makes sense.
Expanding expungement options allows people who have reformed their thinking and behavior the privilege of full, unrestricted citizenship. Those who have served their sentences, returned to their communities, and proven their ability to live lawfully should have the chance to remove the scarlet letter they bear. Rather than living forever with the stain of past bad decisions, they are free to be fully functioning, fully contributing members of their communities. This clean slate legislation is another of the great steps in criminal justice reform that rejects fear-based policies of the past and embraces redemptive approaches to justice.
Please contact your state Senator and Representative to ask them to vote for the clean slate legislation. For more information on this package of bills, please visit www.safeandjustmi.org/Clean-Slate-for-Michigan. Thank you to Safe & Just Michigan for their hard work advocating for these bills. For more legislative updates on Michigan criminal justice policies, and to financially support their work of advocacy, subscribe to Safe & Just Michigan's quarterly newsletter.
Residency and employment restrictions for former felons can sometimes be so restrictive that, without the support of friends and family, many returning citizens find themselves unemployed and homeless. Some positive changes have been made in laws and public policies, especially concerning employment forms requiring information about felonies; however, prejudices and discrimination against returning citizens continues to be a problem for some returning citizens. Policies and laws that discriminate against people with the scarlet letter "F" (for felon) are deeply entrenched. That's why I am so pleased to hear about clean slate legislation that has strong bipartisan support in Michigan.
A package of seven expungement bills has currently passed the House and is waiting for committee action in the Senate. Together, these bills will greatly expand expungement options for former felons. Current expungement laws are very narrow, and most eligible people don't know they are eligible. The new laws, if passed, will make expungement automatic after three to ten years (depending on severity), and make non-automatic expungement available even for assaultive felonies after five to seven years.
According to University of Michigan criminologist Sonja Starr, when a former prisoner has remained crime-free for five years after release from prison, he or she is less likely to commit crimes than citizens with no criminal record. This fact makes automatic and more expansive expungement options a no-brainer. Clearing someone's record when they've proven they've reformed just makes sense.
Expanding expungement options allows people who have reformed their thinking and behavior the privilege of full, unrestricted citizenship. Those who have served their sentences, returned to their communities, and proven their ability to live lawfully should have the chance to remove the scarlet letter they bear. Rather than living forever with the stain of past bad decisions, they are free to be fully functioning, fully contributing members of their communities. This clean slate legislation is another of the great steps in criminal justice reform that rejects fear-based policies of the past and embraces redemptive approaches to justice.
Please contact your state Senator and Representative to ask them to vote for the clean slate legislation. For more information on this package of bills, please visit www.safeandjustmi.org/Clean-Slate-for-Michigan. Thank you to Safe & Just Michigan for their hard work advocating for these bills. For more legislative updates on Michigan criminal justice policies, and to financially support their work of advocacy, subscribe to Safe & Just Michigan's quarterly newsletter.
Thursday, November 14, 2019
New Crime Threatens Sentence Reforms
Last year nearly 5,000 federal prisoners were released early under the First Step Act, a sentencing reform bill that reduced penalties for some drug convictions and other non-violent crimes. The First Step Act intended to remedy inequitable sentences that disproportionately affected minorities, as well as incorporate new evidence that harsh sentences do not lead to greater community safety. This sentencing reform bill was a great step in the right direction to reduce over-incarceration.
Unfortunately, as is sometimes the case with good prison and sentence reforms, the First Step Act released a prisoner who was re-arrested this week for murder. This tragedy has opponents of prison reform smugly crying, "See, I told you so!" Nevertheless, as tragic as this murder is, we have to ask if we should halt prison and sentencing reforms simply because someone who benefits from the reforms abuses his blessing. I argue we should not.
If someone is ticketed for speeding, fails to learn his or her lesson, and drives recklessly again, killing someone in an accident, should we react by taking away the licenses of everyone caught speeding? No, of course not, but that is the reactionary response to so-called failures from prison reform. As is the case with most crime, these failures are sensationalized in the news, and politicians and the public react to the exception rather than the rule.
I'm sure others of the 5,000 released prisoners have committed other crimes and returned to prison. The national recidivism rate is high enough to guess that. But many others, too, have gone on to lead productive, reformed lives. Should we deny these prisoners the benefits of reform simply because of the small number who waste their freedom?
We cannot anticipate what people will do with a second (or third, or fourth) chance at freedom. Some will do well, and some will not. That does not mean that we should stop reforming inequitable sentences or incorporating new evidence showing that long sentences do not lead to safer communities. We've been on the right track in changing laws to recognize the injustice of mass incarceration. Let's not derail the progress of justice simply to prevent what might happen.
Unfortunately, as is sometimes the case with good prison and sentence reforms, the First Step Act released a prisoner who was re-arrested this week for murder. This tragedy has opponents of prison reform smugly crying, "See, I told you so!" Nevertheless, as tragic as this murder is, we have to ask if we should halt prison and sentencing reforms simply because someone who benefits from the reforms abuses his blessing. I argue we should not.
If someone is ticketed for speeding, fails to learn his or her lesson, and drives recklessly again, killing someone in an accident, should we react by taking away the licenses of everyone caught speeding? No, of course not, but that is the reactionary response to so-called failures from prison reform. As is the case with most crime, these failures are sensationalized in the news, and politicians and the public react to the exception rather than the rule.
I'm sure others of the 5,000 released prisoners have committed other crimes and returned to prison. The national recidivism rate is high enough to guess that. But many others, too, have gone on to lead productive, reformed lives. Should we deny these prisoners the benefits of reform simply because of the small number who waste their freedom?
We cannot anticipate what people will do with a second (or third, or fourth) chance at freedom. Some will do well, and some will not. That does not mean that we should stop reforming inequitable sentences or incorporating new evidence showing that long sentences do not lead to safer communities. We've been on the right track in changing laws to recognize the injustice of mass incarceration. Let's not derail the progress of justice simply to prevent what might happen.
Monday, November 4, 2019
Can You Make Someone Respect You?
The dictionary definition of *respect* is to have a high regard for. When we think of respect, we often think of it as something deserved or earned by another. Using this definition, I can name several people throughout my prison bit who have earned my respect. Their behavior, the way they treat others, and the way they keep their word are all elements that have earned my respect. But prison culture has a strange, and different, way of looking at respect.
This culture assumes that you will respect the next man, whether he deserves it or not. This sort of respect is not to have a high regard for, but it is to honor another's pride. For example, one of my pet peeves is when people stop in the middle of a doorway, just standing there, and have no awareness (or respect?) for others around them. This happens *all the time* in prison. This lack of awareness for others is not respectful. It is rude and inconsiderate. But this behavior is not a personal assault on my own honor. It is simply general inconsideration for others.
When someone is generally inconsiderate, it might yield a sharp rebuke or an under-the-breath curse, but it rarely rises to the level of "disrespect" that requires a physical response. No, these cases occur when someone's personal honor is at stake. Prison culture would have someone respond with violence when they are disrespected, when their own personal honor or reputation is demeaned. What it really boils down to, though, is pride and the desire to not look weak.
This week I observed an example of this demand for respect. At breakfast a man several people in front of me made a simple request to the server behind the line. The server responded by cursing at him and calling him names. The man waiting for his food, a man I know to be peaceful and respectful of others, was forced to make a decision. Either he could ignore the disrespect of the server, which could cause the man to look weak, or he could respond with violence, defending his honor and right to be respected. His internal struggle with what to do took too long. The officers saw the situation, surrounded him, and took him out in handcuffs. He had done nothing and said nothing. He simply *looked* like he was about to.
Everyone in the chow line knew the struggle this man faced, because they have faced it before. You can't be in prison for long without facing these situations. The question is, do you guard your reputation with violence (verbal or physical), or do you choose to stay peaceful and possibly look weak? This quandary is a matter of character, but it is also a matter of safety. If you look weak, you could be targeted for exploitation by others.
In other countries where honor cultures are the norms, it is not one's own honor that is carefully guarded. It is the honor of a family or a community. In the United States, where rugged individualism reigns supreme, communal honor is hardly even considered. But prison culture strangely mixes these two norms. It is one's personal honor that matters the most and must be protected at all costs.
But not all prisoners live by prison's cultural norm. Instead, they recognize the brokenness of others, give grace as they desire to have it, and choose to live peacefully with others, as much as they can. While some prisoners may view this choice as weakness, many others come to view these prisoners with real respect--the kind that is well deserved.
This culture assumes that you will respect the next man, whether he deserves it or not. This sort of respect is not to have a high regard for, but it is to honor another's pride. For example, one of my pet peeves is when people stop in the middle of a doorway, just standing there, and have no awareness (or respect?) for others around them. This happens *all the time* in prison. This lack of awareness for others is not respectful. It is rude and inconsiderate. But this behavior is not a personal assault on my own honor. It is simply general inconsideration for others.
When someone is generally inconsiderate, it might yield a sharp rebuke or an under-the-breath curse, but it rarely rises to the level of "disrespect" that requires a physical response. No, these cases occur when someone's personal honor is at stake. Prison culture would have someone respond with violence when they are disrespected, when their own personal honor or reputation is demeaned. What it really boils down to, though, is pride and the desire to not look weak.
This week I observed an example of this demand for respect. At breakfast a man several people in front of me made a simple request to the server behind the line. The server responded by cursing at him and calling him names. The man waiting for his food, a man I know to be peaceful and respectful of others, was forced to make a decision. Either he could ignore the disrespect of the server, which could cause the man to look weak, or he could respond with violence, defending his honor and right to be respected. His internal struggle with what to do took too long. The officers saw the situation, surrounded him, and took him out in handcuffs. He had done nothing and said nothing. He simply *looked* like he was about to.
Everyone in the chow line knew the struggle this man faced, because they have faced it before. You can't be in prison for long without facing these situations. The question is, do you guard your reputation with violence (verbal or physical), or do you choose to stay peaceful and possibly look weak? This quandary is a matter of character, but it is also a matter of safety. If you look weak, you could be targeted for exploitation by others.
In other countries where honor cultures are the norms, it is not one's own honor that is carefully guarded. It is the honor of a family or a community. In the United States, where rugged individualism reigns supreme, communal honor is hardly even considered. But prison culture strangely mixes these two norms. It is one's personal honor that matters the most and must be protected at all costs.
But not all prisoners live by prison's cultural norm. Instead, they recognize the brokenness of others, give grace as they desire to have it, and choose to live peacefully with others, as much as they can. While some prisoners may view this choice as weakness, many others come to view these prisoners with real respect--the kind that is well deserved.
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