Finding Hope in the Holidays, Even in Prison

I'm a bit of a scrooge when it comes to Christmas. I mean, I don't hate Christmas or anything, but since coming to prison I've found it difficult to feel very festive. I've also developed an aversion to the excessive materialism found at Christmastime. Nevertheless, I recognize that much of how I feel at this time of year is directly tied to my inability to be present with my family, to share in the little (and big) joys of the season. Perhaps if I was not in prison, I would feel differently. 

But as I recently thought about my Grinchy-ness, I was reminded that Christmas is about others. It's about celebrating the birth of our Savior, and it's about giving to others. Despite all the misery and lack of connection or joy I feel because of being in prison, I know others are suffering much more than I am. I am in prison because of terrible choices I made, but my family suffers every year when I am absent, through no fault of their own. Yet, some of them put on a brave face and try to make Christmas special for me, even though I cannot be there with them. 

I also think about the fact that I still have some family in my life (for which I am deeply grateful!). Some of the other men around me in prison have no family or friends left in their lives. They suffer far more than I do, and they often do so in silence. I think about the families who lost their incarcerated loved one this year to the Coronavirus, or of the prisoners who lost a loved one outside of prison to the same. Often, these losses were sudden and unexpected, and they had no opportunity to say goodbye. I'm deeply grateful for the gift of family and friends who make my life richer, despite the hardship of razor wire fences separating us. 

Yes, being separated from loved ones during the holidays is incredibly difficult, but I still have so many incredible gifts for which to be thankful. I won't be able to sit around the fireplace drinking hot cider or cocoa, or decorate a tree, shop for last minute gifts in a frenzy, or drive around and enjoy the light displays with my family, but I am still richly blessed. On Christmas morning, I intend to wake up (probably at my usual time) and unwrap the gift of gratefulness. I plan to name, out loud, the incredible gifts God has blessed me with this year, above and beyond the daily gift of His presence in my life. 

So much of life is about perspective, and that goes for in prison too. Yes, the holidays are hard for many of us, but we can choose to be grateful anyway. We realize how rich we are when we stop staring intently at what we wished was and instead look with wonder at what already is. 

To all you loved ones suffering separation from someone you love due to incarceration, may you experience the joy and peace of Christ this season, and may you experience the gift of hope for something beautifully new and surprising this coming new year. 

Merry Christmas! 

What is the Real Cost of Saving 20% on Prison Medical Care?

 I fully support responsible cost-cutting, saving money, reducing costs. In a nation obsessed with consuming, it's a good idea every once in a while to trim the fat, so to speak. But when any government entity begins talking about cutting costs, I get highly skeptical. 

Take for instance the Michigan Department of Correction's recent signing of a new contract for prisoner medical care. They like to tout the aim of cost cutting (up to 20% savings!) all while continuing insanely wasteful spending in other areas. Before coming to prison, I had never witnessed such grotesquely wasteful spending. 

Now that the department has signed a new medical care contract, let me tell you just two of the recent examples of "care" provided by medical staff in prison. One prisoner in my housing unit can barely walk. He has a problem with his foot or his leg in some way, I don't know. He's elderly, and he clearly needs some sort of assistance to get around. But medical staff here have said they want him using that leg to develop more mobility. That makes sense, actually, for certain injuries. However, when a man can only shuffle forward six inches at a time, and he looks like he can barely stand the whole time, common sense says he needs some sort of assistance. Will they give him a cane or walker? No. Will they allow someone to push him to chow in a wheelchair? No. Meanwhile, the entire housing unit has finished eating, and he's still shuffling to chow, six inches at a time. That is not even close to a reasonable standard of care. 

Another prisoner in my housing unit has a herniated or slipped disc in his back. But supposedly because we are on Covid outbreak status, only "emergency" medical issues are being seen. This prisoner can barely walk or function because of the pain, but medical staff refuse to help him. Today, he "fell out" in the hallway because of the pain. Only then did medical staff see him and give him a temporary injection for his pain. He's serving life in prison, so it's not like he can grin and bear it until he can get some real healthcare. 

So, while the department is purportedly saving 20% on medical costs, by denying essential care to prisoners, it is paying exorbitant amounts of overtime pay to corrections officers and administrators. Because the department cannot hire and retain enough officers and staff, the severe shortage means mandated overtime. This mandated overtime requires overtime pay. It also causes burnout and leads to more staff members quitting. 

To make matters worse, while the department pays its staff ridiculous amounts of overtime pay, it has refused to raise wages for prisoners, for decades! Prisoner wages have remained stagnant so long that I don't know a single prisoner who has experienced a pay raise while in prison. In fact, prisoners used to make bonus money in some jobs, and that was taken away. The Constitution of the United States allows slavery for those convicted of felonies, and the State of Michigan has capitalized on that fact for many, many years. The highest wage a prisoner can make in a day can barely purchase a stick of deodorant or tube of toothpaste. He may have to work at least two days, or eleven days at the lowest rate, just to buy either item. 

Inflation is hurting many American families, and it is devastating prisoners' purchasing power too. Without a single pay raise in decades, but commissary prices rising all the time, a dollar just doesn't go very far these days. Since the amount and quality of food served to prisoners has also declined in recent decades, commissary food is often necessary to supplement a lackluster diet. 

The sad reality is that the State of Michigan has it within it's power to reduce the prison population by joining the other 49 states and offering prisoners incentives to reduce their prison sentences. It can further reduce the prison population by eliminating mandatory minimums, passing second look sentencing reforms, and making several other important sentencing reforms. 

But these reforms take guts, they take courage. And rather than tackle tough issues and save real money, legislators and prison administrators make decisions that sound good to the public (reducing medical costs by 20%!). These mirages of public responsibility comfort the public while mismanagement and wasteful spending continue unabated.

Until the State of Michigan makes tough decisions, like significantly cutting its prison population, staff shortages and the resulting overtime paid out will continue to wipe out (and then some) any supposed savings gained through new contracts. And Michigan prisoners will continue to suffer from desperately substandard or completely absent medical care.

We Mourn with You, Oxford, Michigan Students and Families

 Most, if not all, of you have undoubtedly heard of the recent tragic school shooting in Oxford, Michigan, where four teens were killed and many others wounded (including a teacher). It is yet another tragedy that leaves devastated families, numerous unanswered questions, and embroiled passions in its wake. People are angry, and rightly so, that these tragedies keep occurring. When will it stop? How many more children must die? 

Sadly, these tragedies lead to much vitriolic debate on both sides of the political aisle about how to solve these crises. Would strict gun control stop the violence? Probably not, since another recent tragedy that took the lives of a number of people occurred when someone plowed a car into a crowd. Would metal detectors and a strong police presence in school stop these tragedies? Probably not, since guns can now be made with plastic. 

All the finger pointing, blame shifting, and political wrangling does nothing to solve the terrible angst of four families who lost their children, and the many others whose children are recovering from gunshot wounds or dealing with their exposure to the horror from that day. We need to address this persistent problem, gun violence in American schools, but it's a problem that requires tact and proper timing. 

The families of the four teens who died, and those who survived, deserve time to process their pain. They deserve the unified support of their community, politicians from both sides of the aisle, and the nation as a whole. They deserve to know that we feel their pain, we mourn with them in their losses, and we honor their children who died tragically and senselessly. 

And when they have privacy again, to fully grieve their losses, that will be the time for the politicians, the community leaders, and the parents of school children to confront the difficult challenges of stopping the violence. Solutions to this problem will not be easy. They will require sacrifice, selflessness, and sober earnestness. These solutions will require out of the box thinking. 

As a nation, we have to be willing to tighten our gun laws, but those would not have stopped this tragedy. We have to be willing to address, head on, the mental health crisis in our country. But that would not have stopped this tragedy either. We have to teach parents to better recognize the signs of mental illness or mental break in their children, but that might not have stopped this tragedy either. 

We have to do something to address the problem, but we also have to recognize that we live in a world where tragedy cannot be stopped. People hurt each other senselessly, and sometimes there is no easy or discernable cause. Maybe this shooter was bullied, but so are tens of thousands of children. Let's try to stop bullying, but also recognize that we cannot stop it all. Let's start by trying to stop it in our local school.

It's easy to believe that we could have stopped a tragedy, because as humans we want to think we are powerful enough to control human behavior. Human behavior is messy, though, and it is often senseless. Sadly, it leaves devastated lives in its wake. So, let's try to solve the problems, yes, but let's also remember that compassion and unity go a long way when tragedy leaves a trail of tears.

New Prison Healthcare Contract Won't Solve Budget Crisis

 I have written recently that Michigan is one of six states offering no form of good time for prisoners, and it is the only state to offer no time off sentences for any reason. This is, in part, because of a state-wide referendum that led to the unfortunate "Truth in Sentencing" law. While the title, Truth in Sentencing, sounds appealing to the general public, it has resulted in Michigan having the longest average sentence in the United States. 

Combined with Michigan's onerous mandatory minimum statutes, Truth in Sentencing ensures that people who commit crimes in Michigan will spend more time in prison than in any other state in the Union. For some of the public, that's justice, despite scientific evidence that longer sentences do not make communities safer. 

Another critical consequence of Michigan's over-incarceration mindset is that Michigan now also holds the distinction as the state with the oldest prison population in the country. Despite having reduced its prison population in recent years, Michigan's prison budget continues to grow. As most people know, healthcare is one of the largest expenses for anyone, and this is true for the Michigan Department of Corrections as well. 

Healthcare is expensive, but it is especially expensive the older one gets. As Michigan's prison population ages, its healthcare costs will continue to rise, and to rise at alarming rates. In an attempt to reduce the costs of healthcare, Michigan has recently changed its health care provider. 

Its new contract with Grand Prairie Healthcare Services aims to save the MDOC 20% on its healthcare costs. As prisoners well know, not much can be trimmed from the department's already bare bones medical care. Since the standard of care is already abysmally low, and denial of care is the norm, it's difficult to understand how a new contract will save any money, let alone 20%. As history demonstrated with the failed privatization experiment for food service, promised savings are rarely realized. 

One area the new company claims they can save the department money is in "medication practices." This wording is code for "denial of necessary medication." I personally have already experienced denial of much needed medication related to allergies. When the medical provider can claim a medication is "non-formulary" and, therefore, they don't need to provide it, a new contract promising to save money on medications does not provide much hope for those needing medication.

Since the department has recently lost over $200 million in judgments, some stemming from denial of or substandard medical care, it's astonishing to me that the department believes it will save any money, let alone 20%, with a new contract. If Michigan REALLY wants to save money on medical costs, it will enact legislation that releases elderly prisoners. Elderly, medically frail or infirm prisoners do not pose a serious risk to society. Keeping them in prison only emphasizes Michigan's determination to carry out retribution to its utmost degree. 

Justice is not served by holding medically frail and infirm prisoners simply because draconian sentencing practices demand they die in prison. Communities are paying on both ends. They suffer the consequences of crime, and then because of Michigan's severe sentencing schemes, they suffer by paying for pointlessly lengthy incarceration. Especially today, communities need funds for schools, road repair, replacing crumbling infrastructure and leaded piping, and investing in job creation. 

The people of Michigan demanded Truth in Sentencing by voting it in through a referendum. If the legislature won't act through a super-majority to overturn this well-intentioned but bad legislation, the people must overturn it themselves. It's time to overturn Truth in Sentencing and to bring Michigan into line with states who believe the science of incarceration. Failing to act will only continue to cost the state millions of unnecessary dollars, regardless of empty promises made through new contracts for services.

Celebrating Thanksgiving in Prison

 Prison is not an ideal setting for giving thanks. Or at least one would think so. Thanksgiving is normally a time when families come together to eat a large turkey meal, and to play board games or watch football. The holiday centers around family, and prisoners are away from their families, their loved ones. The reminder only worsens the sense of isolation and loneliness many of us feel at holiday times. 

Even in prison, though, we have much to be thankful for. No, we don't get a special turkey meal (unless you count turkey loaf, a half cup of "stuffing" and a tablespoon of cranberry sauce as special), and we're surrounded by other prisoners rather than our families. But we do have three meals a day and a warm, if uncomfortable, bed to sleep in each night. That's more than could be said for the hundreds of thousands of refugees, political and otherwise, who have been uprooted from their homes this year. 

We are also surrounded by people who, in some cases, have become closer than family members who choose to remain distant or absent from our lives. Some choose their families from among friends rather than suffer the rejection of their birth families. Often, those friends are also in prison. They share in the same isolating experiences, they understand the same struggles, they eat the same tired out turkey loaf meal the department pretends is a holiday meal. 

I'm grateful to have some family still in my life, and although I cannot celebrate the holiday with them in person, I am very thankful for their presence in my life. I'm also thankful for the opportunity I had in prison to earn a bachelor's degree from Calvin University. I'm thankful to have been able to author a book in prison now published on Amazon.com (Insider's Guide to Prison Life). I'm thankful to have learned to play the guitar. I'm thankful that I have the love and support from some very special friends who make my time in prison easier by their presence in my life. I'm thankful for God's abundant mercy, His provision throughout my time in prison, and for His unfailing grace.

Choosing thankfulness in prison is not always difficult. I can enjoy the splendor of a firey sunrise or sunset, or the blanketing beauty of falling snow inside or outside these fences. I can experience the calming pleasure of listening to classical music while sipping a mocha in the evening. I can make lifelong connections with friends, even within the confines of prison. Although imprisoned, I have the freedom to read, write, and educate myself in ways I would unlikely have time for outside of prison. I'm thankful that I have had the time and space to work on some character issues and thinking problems that needed to be addressed in my life. I'm thankful for the time and opportunity to deepen my relationship with God. 

Thankfulness requires humility, a focus outside of oneself. It requires a putting aside of our demands for our vision of "the good life." When we can refocus, away from all that we wish was different in our lives, which for prisoners means primarily freedom from these confines, we are then free to notice and be thankful for the many blessings we do have. 

Thankfulness is a choice, and it's a choice that cultivates joy, even in the midst of trial. I'd rather feel joyful than be miserable all the time. I choose thankfulness.

Finding Moments of Serene Beauty in Prison

 We had our first snow for the year this week, although the ground is too warm for it to have stuck around (yet). I might be in the minority around here, but I think the snow is beautiful! It's the biting cold wind I don't like in the winter. 

The snow provides a bit of beauty in an environment starved for beauty. I happen to be in a prison that still has a few trees on the inside of the fence, so when the snow blankets the trees and covers the ground, it's serene and beautiful...for a little while. It doesn't take long before the snow is removed from walkways and trampled or driven over by corrections officers crossing the yard. The housing unit small yards are also cleared as prisoners make room for their workout routines. 

Snowball fights are prohibited in prison (it's "horseplay," which will earn you a misconduct ticket), and I've only seen a couple of small, lame attempts at snowmen. I'm sure that's not "cool" for hardened convicts to do. Enjoying winter sports is a non-starter in prison too. There are no slopes or trails to ski, and snow machines are out of the question.

With a plethora of free or slave-wage labor, most of the snow removal in prison occurs by hand. Yep, the old fashioned snow shovel. But the prison where I am currently housed also has snow blowers (which I don't recall seeing at the other three prisons where I've been). Only after a very heavy snow (a foot or more?) does the snow plow come out. Even in these cases though, much of the clean up occurs with snow shovels. It's a workout in itself that some prisoners really enjoy (definitely NOT me!).

When the cold hits and the snow flies, fewer prisoners are out on yard working out, walking the track, or hanging out. During our Covid restrictions, we have limited access to the gym, so it makes maintaining a regular workout routine difficult. But for the diehards who don't let the snow and cold stop them, there's less competition for workout space. 

Personally, I used to hate the winter, but in prison it's easier to put on clothes when you're cold than to get cool when it's hot. Prison housing units don't have air conditioning, so when it's in the 90s and very humid, it's impossible to get comfortable. I still don't like working out in the snow and especially the blowing cold wind, but I try to keep a regular routine nonetheless. For me, it's part of staying healthy--mind, body, and spirit. 

Another part of staying mentally and emotionally healthy is being able to pause and recognize the beauty of a snow-covered landscape. When so starved for beauty, it's essential for prisoners to take a moment to be grateful for that which razor wire fences cannot take away. I am grateful for these rare moments of serene beauty.

Double Standard Reinforces Bad Behavior

 One of the most frustrating aspects of prison, and the justice system in general, is the pervasiveness of double standards. From day one, people who encounter the justice system discover it is not the image of "blind justice" and fairness it is made out to be. 

In the courts, the accused is expected to know the court rules and to follow them precisely, but the court itself often doesn't follow its own rules and procedures. And when their violations are pointed out in appeals, the court rules their infractions "harmless error," even if an error costs a defendant years of his/her life. Additionally, prosecutors are given months to prepare filings and briefs, but defense lawyers and their clients are given days to weeks (especially in appeals). The list of unjust and unfair practices in the courts is long. It's simply not what many Americans think it is. 

And it's not only defendants who are treated unfairly by the courts. Victims are often left in the dark or told (implicitly or explicitly) that their opinions and desires don't count. In essense, the State usurps the offense and makes it a violation against the state. Victims become secondary to the judicial process. 

For offenders, unjust and unfair practices continue in prison. While prisoners are required to follow prison rules, prison administrators and guards often violate their own rules. Prisoners suffer consequences for failing to follow rules. We are held accountable for our behavior, even in prison. But when administrators and guards violate the rules, they "police" themselves, justifying or outright denying their violations, with little to no accountability. The laughable "grievance" process is so broken and useless, it produces no accountability. Yet, prisoners are required by the courts to follow this worthless process before taking a matter to court. What should be resolved in a matter of weeks drags out for months, even years. 

The most frustrating part of the whole system is the blatant double standard that exists. Prisoners are punished for breaking the law, and rightly so, but the courts and prison officials can thumb their nose at the rules, sometimes even breaking the law themselves, without consequence. It reinforces a message the some people (or entire systems) are above the law. It's a grossly unfair double standard. 

What makes matters worse is that some blatant rule violations occur precisely because officials know they can get away with it. They break their own rules to prove their superior position, their position of authority. Prisoners have no authority, so who are we to call for fairness? Who are we to call for justice?

How can society expect prisoners to develop pro-social behaviors--honesty, transparency, fairness, good will--when the people employed to ensure public safety provide such a poor example to follow? It's simply illogical. It's simply one of the many reasons the prison system has such a high failure rate.

Society deserves better for their investment of billions of dollars in "corrections." Society deserves a system that exemplifies justice, honesty, and fairness, not one where its people exploit and abuse their power and reinforce bad behavior through their poor example.

Cultivating Compassion in the Center of Chaos

 I recently heard a story of an Amsterdam obstetrician who trained nurses in the field. He was asked how he teaches prospective nurses to deal with mothers whose babies were still-born or died shortly after birth. He responded, "I tell them that when you go into the room, you need two eyes. With one you have to check the I.V.; with the other, you must cry. I tell them one eye is not enough. You need two eyes."

It's difficult to imagine the struggle it must be to maintain a professional demeanor at the same time one is overcome with compassion for the pain of someone's loss. Yet, nurses (and doctors) must learn to balance their professional duties with feeling their human connection to another's pain. 

I have found it profoundly difficult at times to maintain "two eyes" in prison. Prison is a hotbed of selfishness, and empathy can be dangerous in prison. As a Christian, I've also found it extremely difficult at times to live out my faith while protecting myself from the dangers of prison at the same time. It takes two eyes. 

Compassion, and empathy, are often seen in prison as signs of weakness. It can also signal that you are either in someone else's business or siding with someone who is experiencing or about to experience violence. Standing up for the weak or vulnerable in prison is very, very difficult. It could put one in grave danger.  

But God calls Christians to stand up for the vulnerable. He calls us to be lights in a dark world, and prison is one of the darkest places I've seen. God doesn't just call us to have compassion from afar, to cry in silence because of the pain we feel for someone. He calls us to step into someone's pain to bring the healing grace of God into another's life. That is not always appreciated in prison, and it could make you the target of violence. 

And so, many people who may come to prison with two eyes, after a while, shut one eye. They learn to walk past stabbings and fights in progress as if they see nothing. They learn to see nothing and to say nothing. They learn to hear painful stories of loss, of death, of abandonment and to stuff down their feral cry against the pain. 

Some who close their eye of compassion are able to open it again, able to see clearly again. Others become blind in that eye, learning to shut out the pain of others. 

Prisoners who are involved in restorative justice, on the other hand, practice seeing with the eye of compassion. They learn to see their own crimes from their victims' perspectives, to feel the pain they caused their victims. They learn to develop an eye of compassion for injustice and to become vocal advocates for justice in every form. 

Yes, living in prison still requires an eye of vigilance, an eye practiced at reading the signs of pending violence and danger. But it also requires an eye of compassion, for those whom we have harmed with our crimes, and for those in prison who suffer. One cannot go a single day without seeing suffering in prison, if one trains his eyes to see rightly. 

Seeing with two eyes is painful, yes, but it is also necessary. In a place where suffering among prisoners is ignored at best, someone must bring God's grace and mercy. Someone must offer hope when all feels hopeless. Someone must "weep with those who weep."

It takes someone with two eyes.

[story adapted from Nicholas Wolterstorff's "You Need Two Eyes" commencement address at Calvin College, 5/20/2006]

Michigan Department of Corrections Tries to Correct its Costly Conduct

 A recent Detroit Free Press article claims the Corrections Department wants to learn from its mistakes that have cost them roughly $200 million in lawsuit payouts since 2010. Forgive me if I'm skeptical. 

While I have no doubt that the department feels the pain of losing an average of nearly $17 million per year in lawsuit payouts, I have seen little in the way of cultural change within the department in my twelve-plus years in prison. Sure, the department has made some positive changes after political and social pressure mandated it. For example, solitary confinement is now used more sparingly than in the past, but it is still used, and sometimes unnecessarily. Additionally, use of force incidents are down, largely because many prisons now have video cameras that capture these incidents and make it more difficult for the department and staff to lie about what occurred. 

Other "mistakes" that have cost the department millions of dollars continue to occur with regularity. For example, prisoner property is still routinely mishandled, and medical incidents of deliberate indifference happen with frightening frequency. 

Perhaps it is applaudable that Director Washington has issued a memo directing staff to critique mistakes so as to learn from them. But in a culture where these "mistakes" are not seen as a problem because prisoners are not assumed to have inherent dignity, it's unlikely that much will change. Issuing memos will not give much force to change when staff members routinely ignore written policies that already lay out how these "mistakes" should be avoided in the first place.

It also strikes me as grossly hypocritical and ironic that the department defines its violations of civil rights and other problems as temporary "mistakes" while marking prisoners who have made "mistakes" as permanently criminal. The cultural attitude towards prisoners among staff is "once a criminal always a criminal." Most corrections department staff are not convinced, despite clear evidence of change, that prisoners can change. So, why should we be convinced that a department can change when it has a deeply entrenched culture that sees prisoners as unworthy of dignity?

I have met Director Washington personally, and I genuinely believe that she wants positive changes to occur in the department of corrections she oversees. I've seen evidence to that end. But I also believe that as an administrator of a highly bureaucratic, highly entrenched department, she faces a nearly impossible task to affect change among her staff. 

I hope I'm wrong. I hope that the wheels of change simply move slowly, but they still move in the right direction. I certainly have hope that many prisoners can change, so I do believe in change. If I'm right, though, and true change is highly unlikely to occur in the corrections department, Michigan taxpayers better get used to shelling out millions of dollars unnecessarily for decades to come.

Seven Results of Owning One's Regret Redemptively

 I recently read some Yale University lectures from renowned theologian Nicholas Woltersdorff about the subject of "Living with Grief." Woltersdorff's son died young in a tragic mountain climbing accident, and his theological focus has consequently become centered on grief. 

As I read these lectures, I was struck by the parallels between grief and regret. I read his theological reflections about grief through the lens of my own life experiences. Coming to prison, and all the losses within that experience, is replete with grief. It is also full of regret.

I have written before that regret is not a bad thing, for it can be used as a catalyst for dramatic, life-altering change. But for regret to yield positive change, it must be used properly. Woltersdorff highlights seven results of owning one's grief redemptively, and I list them here, altered slightly, to draw a parallel between grief and regret when both are owned redemptively. For my purposes here, regret, when owned redemptively, produces:

1. Reordered loves--we love things that are more accurately worth loving.
Regretting the harm one causes others makes one re-evaluate what he loves and why he loves it. It alters priorities so that one's aspired values become one's espoused values. One learns to love the right things.

2. A savoring, with gratitude, of the good things in life.
Losing access to so much in life makes one savor, with gratitude, even the small things. Good things, like a word of praise, a child's laughter, a firey sunrise, a small piece of chocolate, a shower with adjustable heat, become precious.

3. A deepened and expanded empathy.
Regret owned redemptively causes one to feel for the hurt others experience. When one hurts for the harm he's caused, he can't help but hurt for others who have been harmed in some way.

4. A strengthening of one's cry against injustice.
When one hurts for others, the natural response is to cry out against injustice. One takes up the cause of calling out that which harms others.

5. A strengthening of one's energy to alleviate the causes of suffering.
It is not enough to voice one's objection to injustice. One who has owned his regret redemptively also joins the fight against the causes of injustice and suffering in its various forms.

6. A provoking to more deeply reflect on how we understand and cope with regret.
Regret can be a burden, but it can also, when owned redemptively, be used for positive, life-altering change. For this change to occur though, one has to be able to reflect deeply on how one understands and copes with regret.

7. An enabling of one to enter more deeply into the heart of God. 
Regret drives one to seek grace, which is at the very heart of Who God is. As one enters the place of grace, it also forms him to become a grace-giving person, because he understands more fully the depth of grace he has received from God. 

Regret is not the same as grief, but it *is* a form of grief. Like grief, it too can lead to new motivations, new ways of constructing one's story. But for regret to be transformative, it must first be embraced, owned, redemptively.

(Thank you to Nicholas Woltersdorff's lecture notes from The Fuller Symposium on the Integration of Faith and Psychology, January 1993, on which I relied for this post.)

Michigan Department of Corrections Wastes Untapped Resource

The Michigan Department of Corrections (MDOC) uses more than 2.2 billion dollars of Michigan's annual budget. It's budget has even risen 17% despite a 44% decrease in prisoner population in the same period. But even given its wasteful spending, the department wastes non-monetary assets as well. 

Michigan's prison is filled with many men who have "turned the corner" in their thinking and behavior. Many of these men are eager to give back to their peers, to mentor and encourage them to change their thinking and behavior. Many of these men, in fact, do just that, in an informal way. Nevertheless, despite this abundant resource, the MDOC often fails to use it. Prisoners are used, sometimes, as facilitators for classes like Chance for Life, but many more opportunities are ignored or actively opposed. 

For example, when I was housed in Coldwater, Michigan, a group of us prisoners started a college prep program. We created and facilitated study skills, math, algebra, English grammar and punctuation, psychology, and other classes. We had the support of a key administrator. These classes gave us opportunities to be creative (creating classes), practice management (writing proposals, following guidelines given to us, managing student requests, etc.), and develop our leadership skills (facilitating classes). At it's zenith, we had hundreds of prisoner students busy studying, learning key skills they could use to further their education. And then it was all cancelled. 

For reasons unknown, even now, the prison administration decided to cancel a program that had proven effective, had kept prisoners out of trouble, had led prisoners to invest in their own education. But after cancelling the program and sending the creators and facilitators to other prisons, the warden still claimed it was running, bragging to another warden about how great the program was. I heard this with my own ears! She didn't know one of those she had "cancelled" was standing behind her. 

This story, as outrageous as it is, happens all the time. At the prison where I am currently housed, a group of us prisoners created and facilitated several classes we called "Life Skills." It focused on employment readiness, since this prison has a vocational trades program. Companies interviewing prisoners who'd gone through our program were very impressed, and the State gave the administrator overseeing our program an award, and a promotion. After his promotion, his replacement shuttered the program. It was "too much work," although prisoners did nearly all the work. Nevertheless, the warden here (now retired) bragged for at least the next two years about the program, even though it'd been shuttered already. 

Like any bureaucratic wasteland, I suppose, MDOC administrators are keen on the credit they get when prisoners, their greatest resource, make them look good; however, actually supporting such programs after the administrators get their initial recognition is too much to ask.

In the end, it's the prisoners who suffer when administrators ignore their greatest asset. Well, prisoners, the communities they return to, and the taxpayers who continue funding a wasteful, and failing system. 

Call to Action: Please Support New Good Time Legislation Introduced in Michigan

 Twenty-twenty-one has been a highly unusual year, in many regards. Covid-19, and its destructive effects on our society, continues to complicate many people's lives. But this year has been unique in other ways too. For the first time in decades, the Michigan legislature is considering several bills that would change the lives of thousands of Michiganders affected by the criminal justice system. 

Two House bills have been introduced, but are still sitting in committee, to give prisoners an opportunity to earn time off their sentences. One, HB 4489, would afford prisoners the opportunity to earn disciplinary credits for good behavior. If this bill passed, prisoners could earn time off using a graduated scale. The longer term they serve in prison, the more time per year they could earn off their sentence. 

Another House bill, HB 4670, would give prisoners the opportunity to earn time off their sentences by pursuing education. Commonly referred to as the "Productivity Credits Bill," this bill would limit the amount of time a prisoner could earn off, up to two years maximum. It would also restrict the credit to low-level crimes (ironically, those with the highest recidivism rates), and it would not be retroactive to people already in prison. 

On September 22, another "Good Time" bill was introduced, this time in the Senate. After months of consulting, advocacy, meetings with legislators, and drafting and re-drafting, SB 649 (along with its companion bills) was introduced to the Senate. This good time bill would allow prisoners to earn day-for-day time off their sentences for good behavior. In other words, if prisoners go 30 days without a misconduct, they would earn 30 days off their sentences. It's an aggressive bill, but it also considers that Michigan's average sentences are longer than other surrounding states, including many in Michigan prisons who are serving very long indeterminate sentences. 

Michigan Justice Advocacy (MJA) has spearheaded the work on this bill, and they are serious about advocating for its passage. They are asking, and I am too, that you support the passage of SB 649 by urging your legislator to support it. Contacting your legislator is easy--it only takes a phone call or email--but MJA has made it even easier. You can visit their website to send your legislator a support email, which you can customize as you'd like. Please do so now, by visiting www.mijustice.org/sign

Victims of crime deserve justice, and an offender's prison sentence is part of that justice. Yet, lengthy sentences, with no incentive for reformed behavior, like Michigan's current system ought to change. It's time Michigan joins the rest of the other 49 states in the Union and offers prisoners an opportunity to reduce their sentences through productive, positive use of their time in prison. Reformed lives, not unnecessarily long sentences ought to be the goal of justice.

Please support bringing Good Time to Michigan at www.mijustice.org/sign

THANK YOU!

Michigan Needs Second Look Sentencing

 Michigan has much longer average prison sentences than other midwestern states in part because of mandatory minimum sentences, and in part because of unchecked judicial activism. Some court's "hands" are tied by legislation that requires long sentences, but sometimes long sentences are handed out as punishment for refusing a plea deal. 

When I was in the county jail awaiting my own sentencing, another prisoner was offered a 12 1/2 year plea deal. He turned the deal down because he claimed he was innocent. I don't know if he was or not, but when he went to trial and lost, the court sentenced him to a minimum of 75 years in prison. That's a 600% increase over what he'd been offered, simply as retribution for refusing a plea. 

Another prisoner I know was offered boot camp, which is a 3 month program. He too turned down the plea deal because he claimed to be innocent. When he lost at trial, he was sentenced to a 40 year minimum prison sentence. That's a 1600% increase, again, simply for turning down a plea deal. If that's not judicial misconduct, I don't know what is. 

The reality is that long prison sentences, like these, are life sentences. Actually, I call them death sentences because they are long enough to result in the prisoner dying in prison. They are what many prisoners refer to as "basketball score" sentences. 

Some states have begun to recognize that lengthy prison sentences do not always achieve the aims of justice. When prisoners reform their thinking and behavior, but they remain in prison for the rest of their lives, it does no good to the community. The cost of keeping them in prison, and the cost of them not being contributing members of society is too high. 

Many of these prisoners have reformed their lives and give back to their communities in prison. These are the prisoners who can be found facilitating classes for younger prisoners, teaching them to change their own thinking and behaviors. They are the ones working to make amends for the harms they've caused, working to better their communities even from within prison. It is not justice to keep these prisoners who have reformed their ways in prison for the rest of their lives. 

The states that have recognized this injustice have begun to pass what is called "Second Look Sentencing" legislation. This legislation allows the courts to resentence prisoners with lengthy sentences who have demonstrated a history of reform. Instead of dying in prison, many of these prisoners become eligible for early release after serving, usually, fifteen years. 

Some advocacy organizations in Michigan are beginning to work with legislators to introduce Second Look legislation in Michigan. It's something Michigan sorely needs. Both of my friends who were sentenced to "death sentences" after refusing plea deals would be eligible for a second look, after serving much more time than they'd been offered in their plea deals. So would the countless others I know who currently anticipate dying in prison, but who still make every effort they can to do the right thing. 

A group of guys I know were recently discussing the chance for Second Look Sentencing. Many of these guys have life sentences, or terms of years that might as well be life. Yet, I could see hope springing up inside them, that perhaps they'd have a chance at life outside of prison after all. Second Look Sentencing could make that possible.

The reality is that we have to decide what justice is. If a prisoner reforms his life and is, at the minimum, no longer a danger to society, should he die in prison? If he has not only reformed but demonstrated a commitment to making things right, to helping younger prisoners reform their lives, should he still die in prison? If reformed thinking and behavior is not the goal of prison, then Michigan's prison system should be called the Michigan Department of Punishment, not the Michigan Department of Corrections.

Negative Social Influences Cultivate Cynicism in Prison

 One of the major criticisms of prisons has been that they are often criminal "universities." Some low level offenders come to prison where they are socialized into criminal mindsets and behaviors. They literally leave prison with criminal minds much worse than when they entered. 

This criticism is real. I've seen prisoners who have very little creativity (even criminal creativity) socialized into criminal thinking and conduct by other, more experienced prisoners. I've seen naive prisoners used and taken advantage of by other prisoners, hardening into a deeper criminal pathology out of a need to protect themselves. They learn to use or be used, steal or be stolen from, be violent or experience violence. 

But prisoners are not the only ones negatively socialized in prison settings. I have personally heard experienced officers training new officers to treat prisoners "like garbage." I've heard new officers being told that we prisoners are just a bunch of animals who cannot control ourselves, so we should be treated like animals. I've seen new officers come in with hopes of making a difference, with plans to treat prisoners with dignity, with visions of being a positive influence on the outcasts of society. But like everything else, the prison system has a tendency to scatter visions, to spoil plans, and to replace hope with hopelessness.

The sad reality is that prisoners are not the only ones who are corrupted by negative social influences in prison. There exists within America's correction system, especially at certain prisons, a deeply cynical ethos where officers are above reproach and prisoners are not worthy of basic human dignities. Any efforts prisoners make to better themselves, to change that broken image of prisoners is met with fierce resistance. How dare prisoners deem themselves worthy of something better than their past poor choices! 

This officer cynicism is often shared by administration as well. Administrators like to talk about rehabilitation, about lowered recidivism rates, about "excellence" in corrections, but here in the trenches where the public eye cannot pry, it's a different story. Status quo is the name of the game. Don't rock the boat. Don't do anything that attracts attention. Do the bare minimum, but make the paperwork look good. This culture of mediocrity is endemic in corrections. 

Prisoners who deem themselves worthy of something better with their lives are often eager to DO something. They want to invest in their futures and better their chances of success. They want to give back to those they've harmed, to make amends. They want to change their character so they are no longer thinking criminally, instead thinking about how they can better their communities. But these desired changes don't fit the cynical image of who prisoners are supposed to be. Consequently, prisoners who make such efforts to change are villified, mocked, blocked at every turn, and those on the outside who try to help a prisoner's transformation are demonized for trying.

Yes, some prisoners receive a master's level education in criminal behavior in prison, but prisoners are not the only ones schooled by negative social influences. The corrections system encourages negative social influences among staff in order to preserve its cynical mindset. Consequently, it produces exactly what it intends to: a high failure rate, driven in part by their own failure to see prisoners as people worthy and capable of changing.

Floods of Regret Triggered by Remembering Victims of Tragedies

 Saturday was the twentieth anniversary of the September 11th terrorist attacks. All day long on television, stories of that fateful day were recounted, video footage of the attacks were shown, survivors were interviewed, and family members honored their loved ones killed in the attacks. And I avoided watching it all.

I distinctly remember where I was the moment I heard about the attacks. I was busy at work, doing something that for weeks afterwards felt insignificant. It was also less than a month from my planned wedding, and I was worried about the attacks' effect on our honeymoon plans. I also remember feeling profound sadness and a sense of helplessness for months after the attacks. 

Twenty years later, I still feel a deep sadness for those who suffered horribly from the tragedy, especially for the children who grew up without a father, mother, grandfather, aunt, etc., because of the attacks. So, why would I avoid all the tributes, stories, and news coverage intended to honor the fallen? 

Momentous occasions and tragedies are both difficult to memorialize in a prison setting. Most prisoners have experienced such profound losses in their own lives, both through death and abandonment, that stirring up those deeply buried feelings is very painful. Remembering and honoring others who died tragically is important, but sometimes it's just too painful. The pain of those memories are intensified by our own losses. We have no loved ones present with us to help bear the burden of painful memories.  

For some prisoners, focusing on the pain of others' tragedies also stirs up and intensifies regret over the pain we've caused our own victims. It's difficult, I imagine, for someone who's taken another person's life and who deeply regrets it, not to feel shame and regret painfully triggered when remembering the horrific murder of others. Feeling others' pain is an important part of cultivating empathy, but some pain is too overwhelming to sit in, especially for a day-long marathon of memorials. 

Some prisoners might actually respond to tragedies like 9/11's attacks by comparing their own crimes to those of the terrorists. It's an easy way to minimize our own brokenness. It doesn't even have to be a national tragedy. It could be a story on the evening news. One might not have to feel quite so bad about themselves when they compare their crimes to the horrendous crimes some people commit. But comparing tragedies is a quick way to forget that all crime is a tragedy. Deep down, most prisoners know this, so it's just easier to avoid focusing on tragedies at all.  

Our nation rightly remembers and honors victims of national tragedies. Regionally, we also remember and memorialize victims of highly publicized local tragedies. But as a nation, we too often forget to honor and memorialize the victims of every day crime. I'm grateful that the victim's advocate center in my county has a public memorial to victims of crime. That's the absolutely least we can do. But it's not enough. If we want to honor those who have suffered from the tragedy of crime, we must start by treating them with more respect in the judical process. Instead of the State usurping the offense, victims must have more voice in the process. Finalization of a trial or plea agreement also does not finalize anything for those who have suffered as a victim of crime. That's just the end of the beginning. 

As a nation, we need to do better about walking alongside those who have suffered because of crime. We need to do better to empower victims not forget them. I want to honor those who have suffered from national tragedies. But I also want to honor those whose lives were harmed because of my bad choices. Every day of my life is a dedication to them. Every difficult choice I make that addresses brokenness in me is made as a commitment to do better. Every investment I make in my intellectual, emotional, and spiritual development I make as a memorial to those who deserved better from me. 

I don't expect I'll ever stop feeling the pain of deep regret. But some day, perhaps, I'll be able to sit in the pain of others' tragedies without feeling a flood of self-condemnation and shame for the harm I've also caused. 

Rejecting Permanent Exclusion and Embracing Redemptive Possibilities

Since recently graduating from college, I've found myself with more time to read. So, I'm re-reading an excellent book that addresses identity, otherness, and reconciliation from a theological perspective. It's Miroslav Volf's "Exclusion and Embrace." 

Although this (difficult) book addresses all kinds of exclusion and otherness and how to pursue reconciliation and healing in these conflicts, I saw an important connection to prisoners and their communities. When someone breaks the law, communities, through law enforcement and the courts, hold that person accountable. The lawbreaker is often isolated from the community (via jail or prison) as a way to reinforce the importance of the community's social norms. The problem is that the lawbreaker isn't simply isolated for a time and then welcomed back. Our American justice system permanently marks a lawbreaker as an outsider. 

A jail or prison sentence is meant to remove the offender for a time from the community in order to protect the community, but also in order to pressure offenders to adopt society's social norms. In other words, to turn offenders into law abiding citizens. The rub is that while asking offenders to naturally develop an affinity for a community's social norms, that same community rejects the offender. This rejection isn't a temporary rejection, though. It is permanent. 

Criminal records keep felons from obtaining housing and jobs, and this permanent outsider status often ostracizes the former offender from the very community that demands they "follow the rules." While many reasons contribute to high re-offense rates, one contributing factor is this permanent outsider status. 

It is unreasonable to expect most prisoners to naturally develop an affinity for the communities and cultures that reject them. Without any solid place to ground themselves, any solid sense of belonging, former offenders cannot be expected to resist what opposes society's norms. They have no incentive to do so, other than avoiding more punishment. 

Psychologists and sociologists tell us that positive reinforcement is much more effective than negative reinforcement (punishment), yet our culture continues to major on the negatives. Michigan, for example, is the ONLY state that offers its prisoners no form of time off for good behavior. So, in addition to branding offenders with a permanent outsider status, Michigan only uses negative reinforcement (long prison sentences) to pursuade offenders to adopt social norms. It's simply an illogical approach. 

Communities need to demand more from the justice system. They need to demand a way back for offenders, a way to remove their outsider status and to belong again. Positive incentives give offenders hope for redemption, not hopeless expection of permanent rejection. 

Prison Processes Keep Prisoners Unproductive

  I remember studying about the Ray Krock philosophy years ago in my marketing class in college. It's the idea that when something works well, you normalize it through a documented process so it can be easily replicated. That's how Krock built an empire called McDonalds and revolutionized how Americans (and now others) eat. This philosophy works well in business, but it still requires adapting while regularly evaluating the effectiveness of established processes. 

The Michigan Department of Corrections also has processes that it documents, processes that are supposed to ensure the outcomes it desires. But people aren't burgers and fries. People have wishes, desires, goals, and emotions. People cannot be broken down into processes. And processes can also be used to excuse laziness. 

One of the most frustrating aspects of being in prison is the state of suspended existence that the system forces on people. It's like a deep trough we are tossed into and told "stay put!" We are urged to "follow the rules" but also discourged from upsetting the status quo with goals and purpose. We are directed, by policy and practice, to avoid trying too hard, feeding our creativity and desire to learn too much, or standing out in any way.  

Time and time again during my time in prison, I have seen prison administrators actively oppose programs or personal projects that prisoners initiate to better themselves and others. It upsets the status quo. Prison staff don't know what to do with prisoners who aren't content watching tv and playing chess or cards all day. It's not part of the documented program when prisoners want more from their lives than simply existing as near robots. 

Some staff members support prisoner efforts to better themselves, but this is often short-lived support. Staff members change and programs are shuttered, or higher ups squash what's happening. I've seen successful college prep programs shut down because administrators were concerned that prisoners were becoming too educated (their words, not mine). I've seen successful reentry and career readiness programs shut down because it was too much work for the staff and because some staff had grudges against a couple of the prisoners involved. I've also seen obstacle after obstacle erected against successful college programs because some staff members resent that prisoners are receiving a free college education. It's an affront to the demand that we know our place and stay in it. 

The reality is that some prisoners do use good programs to manipulate their way into positions of influence. But these are isolated cases that are easy to identify. Certain groups are almost always involved in such "takeovers." It's apparently easier, though, to use a blanket approach and to keep all prisoners from bettering themselves. It's a way prisons reinforce a message to prisoners that we are not redeemable, not worth the effort, and not worthy of making something of our broken lives. 

It gets discouraging when after every obstacle we face and overcome, another obstacle stands in the way. It's no wonder some prisoners give up trying after years. Prison sucks the motivation to do better right out of you. But it doesn't have to.

I regularly remind myself that good things rarely come easy. Some of the best things come out of struggles. I can only imagine the kind of successes I'll have after release from prison if I bring the tenacity that prison requires to the outside. I don't envision being a Ray Krock, but whatever I do I'll remember to put people over processes.

Educate Yourself on Criminal Justice Reform So You Can Advocate

 Over the last couple of decades, calls for criminal justice reform have grown louder and louder. The decades-long policies that led to America's mass incarceration problem have come under increased scrutiny, as these policies have largely been ineffective and have cost states and the federal government billions of wasted tax dollars. 

In Michigan, advocates have been fighting tirelessly to end life without parole sentences for juvenile offenders. Now, some advocates are pushing to expand the ban to include offenders up to 25 years of age due to new scientific evidence that brains are not fully developed until around age 25. 

Other advocates are fighting hard to reduce average sentences in Michigan, in part by re-introducing some form of good time or disciplinary credits. One organization leading this advocacy is Michigan Justice Advocacy (MJA). They are currently looking for people to support their efforts by signing a petition and by subscribing to their occasional email updates. I would like to urge my readers to do both at www.mijustice.org. You cannot know how to vote on referendums or how to encourage your legislator to vote on bills unless you stay informed. 

If you are interested in getting involved in advocacy yourself, you may volunteer your time with MJA. Just let them know of your availability. Also, The Adolescent Redemption Project (TARP) is sponsoring a criminal justice reform rally to end mass incarceration at the State Capitol in Lansing, Michigan on October 14 from noon to 3PM. You can learn more by visiting their website at www.AdolescentRedemptionProject.org.

While I am unable to visit these websites to fully vet them before recommending them, I support many of their goals regarding ending mass incarceration, mandatory life without parole sentences, and more. Staying informed is the first step to participating in critical reform movements, so do what you can to learn about these issues so you can vote responsibly when the time comes.

Understaffed Prisons Lead to Overstressed Officers

 The United States has a long and storied history of pouring money into failed institutions. America has long funded Amtrak, despite its failure to sustain enough income to fund its operations, let alone to be profitable. America also continues to pour money into the public school system, despite its epic failure (generally speaking) to provide a quality education over the last century. 

Like these two examples, government officials also believe that throwing more money at prisons will make them more effective, despite clear evidence of a failure to achieve this aim. Prisons don't make communities safer, and nationally they have a 66% failure rate at rehabilitating its charges (measured by its 5-year recidivism rate). It's clear that more money will not make prisons more effective at reducing crime rates. 

Right now, Michigan's prison system is, like many industries in America, struggling to find enough employees. Many people do not want to work in a prison environment, and I can't say that I blame them. Prison environments are toxic, and it's not even mostly because of the prisoners. 

We prisoners hear talk among staff, and we have learned to be very observant. We hear about new recruits (and not so new recruits) quitting, about mandatory overtime that is preventing staff from having a life outside of work, about sexual harassment in the workplace, about staff corruption going unchecked--or even worse defended. I'm sure many of these problems exist in other places too, but with the job market as hot as it is, who wants to work in a place like the Department of Corrections? I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. 

As a result of severe staff shortages, Michigan is spending ridiculous amounts of money on overtime, just to keep a required minimum number of staff at each prison. It's a tragic waste of taxpayer dollars, dollars that could be better spent on demonstrable improvements to people's lives. Michigan shouldn't have to decide whether we should be spending more money on overtime pay for prisons or to fix roads and bridges, to provide high speed internet access to rural areas, to address addiction epidemics, and to improve our education system so we can be competitive in world markets.

Lawmakers have an opportunity to make meaningful changes, first by bringing Michigan's sentencing in line with other midwestern states. Since Michigan has significantly higher average sentences AND has no good time, Michigan prisoners spend much more time in prison on average than prisoners in surrounding states. The legislature can change that by eliminating mandatory minimums, reducing average minimum sentences, and passing good time legislation. But they haven't taken action on these important measures thus far. 

If the legislature moves to make these important changes, Michigan could further reduce its prison population, resulting in closing unnecessary prisons and more funding to improve programs and education in prison. Such improvements may actually lead to lower recidivism rates, as studies have shown. It will also reduce the number of new staff members the department must find to become prison guards. 

Prison is a stressful place to live, but it is also a stressful place to work. I'm sure the potential dangers of working in a prison are stressful, but officers should not have to have their lives dictated by forced overtime and other policies that add unreasonable stress to their lives. The longer the Michigan legislature fails to take action that meaningfully reduces the prison population, the more stressed out officers will be and the more understaffed prisons will be. And that's just not good for any of us. 

Defunding the Police Advances Radical Political Philosophies

 I recently read that more than 80% of prisoners support the current movement to defund the police. I'm not entirely shocked by this statistic, but I do wonder how relevant it is. That's like polling poor people to find out if they support welfare programs. Of course, people who are likely to benefit the most are going to express support for programs or movements that sound appealing to them. Many prisoners likely believe that defunding the police would mean less accountability to authorities after leaving prison. 

To be fair, some prisoners may be simply reacting to frustrations over mishandled cases or police and judicial misconduct, experienced both personally and within their communities. It happens far more often than the general public thinks. Not all misconduct is intentional. Some is oversight or miscommunication. But since both police and prosecutors enjoy either qualified or absolute immunity, there is little to no accountability when misconduct is intentional. When the public is held to one standard of conduct but people in power are protected from those standards, it understandably creates animosity among those who are punished for their misconduct. 

Nevertheless, people who support calls to defund the police rarely think through the implications of such an action. Their support is, understandably, reactionary to police misconduct, corruption, and violence against members of the public. For people in minority communities, defunding the police may be especially appealing. These communities have historically suffered the most from police brutality. But these communities are now also suffering the most from the exploding rates of violence and murder in their cities due to reductions in police forces from funding cuts. Those who depend on protection from the police no longer have any reliable options to prevent, interrupt, avoid, or escape violence in their communities. 

We clearly need some drastic changes in how police are trained, what weapons they are supplied with, how they engage with communities, and especially in how (or if!) they are held legally accountable for misconduct. We also need more investment in prevention and treatment within communities rather than throwing more money at enforcement and imprisonment. Militarizing our police and increasing incarceration rates will not help keep communities safe nor help them heal. But let's also be clear about what the defund the police movement is. It is a movement that takes advantage of the tragedies experienced by some black families (like George Floyd's) in order to advance a Marxist agenda in this country. 

In a recent article in "The Abolitionist" (Summer 2021), the author reveals that in addition to expanding community-based safety strategies, "defunding the police is also an anti-capitalist organizing strategy." The author further notes that defunding the police means to strike at the root of socio-economic and political forces that have harmed, primarily, minority communities. 

Addressing socio-economic and political policies and practices that have historically disadvantaged or harmed minority communities is very important. Siphoning funding from schools to pay for policing and prisons is one such political policy that reinforces inequality and especially harms minority families and communities. But defunding or abolishing the police also harms families and communities, as skyrocketing violent crime in Portland, Oregon has shown over the last several months. 

Tragedies, such as George Floyd's death, should not be used as political weapons to advance political philosophies. The last time that happened in a major way, the 9/11 tragedy was used to justify stripping Americans from their Constitutional right to privacy through the over-reaching Patriot Act. 

We must address police brutality and America's obsession with incarceration as a primary strategy for addressing crime. But so far, criminals are the ones winning the war for our streets, not those who have a utopian vision of safe communities with no police presence.