I received a colorful note and Christmas greeting the other day from a young man I do not know. His Sunday school class decided to brighten the hearts of prisoners by sending thoughtful notes at a time of year that is especially difficult for prisoners. Although I do not know the boy who sent this note, it still put a large smile on my face because of the simple, yet profound, way that it reminded me I was loved and valued. In prison one is surrounded by cynicism, especially during the holidays, that infects one's spirit. It's difficult to keep a spirit of joy, but simple expressions of love have a way of breaking through the haze of darkness that often covers prison. Fortunately, there are no children here in prison (well, not children chronologically), but we too often forget the simple joy that comes from the smile and laugh of a child. Their simple view of life is a reminder of the joy that can be found in unlikely places. Like the joy my niece found in an octopus. Just the other day she lit up the phone telling me with pure joy about an octopus she saw at a science center. I too find an octopus very interesting, but my joy was multiplied by hearing her enthusiasm for something we cynical adults might simply glance at with interest and forget about in minutes. These two things, the boy's note to encourage a stranger, and my niece's joy over an octopus are a beautiful reminder that life's joys are not always found in profound moments. Sometimes they are found in giving of oneself for others, or in seeing God's amazing creativity in nature. And sometimes life's joys are in hearing and seeing simple love and joy through the eyes of a child. |
Saturday, December 31, 2016
Simple Joys
Saturday, November 26, 2016
Prison Creates an Identity Crisis
"Prison not only robs you of your freedom, it attempts to take away your identity."
When I read these words penned by Nelson Mandela in his book "Long Walk to Freedom," they resonated with me. As Mandela eloquently points out, "[Prison] is by definition a purely authoritarian state that tolerates no independence or individuality."
Prison, by its very nature is designed to strip men (and women!) from their identities. On the surface this might appear like a good idea, because many of the things that have defined most prisoners are worth stripping away. Things like criminal thinking patterns, addictive thoughts and behaviors, and antisocial behaviors all need to be removed from the identity of prisoners. The problem is that prison is not designed to replace these antisocial identities with pro social ones. Instead, prisoners are left feeling like they have no identity at all.
Just the other day I heard another prisoner say, "I can't tell you anything interesting about myself. Prison has taken away everything that gave me an identity." I was saddened to hear him feel this way.
The unfortunate reality is that many of the men who came to prison at a young age had no opportunity to form an identity through normal social influences. These men have been influenced by an authoritarian, dependent condition that discourages one from forming any purpose by which an identity is built.
Yet, even though prison necessarily influences a person, it does not have to rob him of an identity. Prisoners must be intentional about claiming and embracing their own identity. Even in prison men can find a purpose bigger than themselves. They can begin to see the world outside of the bubble of prison and find ways to connect to and engage in the greater human struggle.
Prison might encourage a self-centered perspective, but humans were not designed to be purely independent creatures. We need each other and we often discover our own identities as we pursue a life that is focused on others.
Maybe independence and individuality aren't something to cherish after all. But neither are dependence and conformity. Instead, prisoners can find a balance through interdependence that appreciates our need for others while still maintaining a healthy responsibility for our own unique contributions to the benefit of all.
When I read these words penned by Nelson Mandela in his book "Long Walk to Freedom," they resonated with me. As Mandela eloquently points out, "[Prison] is by definition a purely authoritarian state that tolerates no independence or individuality."
Prison, by its very nature is designed to strip men (and women!) from their identities. On the surface this might appear like a good idea, because many of the things that have defined most prisoners are worth stripping away. Things like criminal thinking patterns, addictive thoughts and behaviors, and antisocial behaviors all need to be removed from the identity of prisoners. The problem is that prison is not designed to replace these antisocial identities with pro social ones. Instead, prisoners are left feeling like they have no identity at all.
Just the other day I heard another prisoner say, "I can't tell you anything interesting about myself. Prison has taken away everything that gave me an identity." I was saddened to hear him feel this way.
The unfortunate reality is that many of the men who came to prison at a young age had no opportunity to form an identity through normal social influences. These men have been influenced by an authoritarian, dependent condition that discourages one from forming any purpose by which an identity is built.
Yet, even though prison necessarily influences a person, it does not have to rob him of an identity. Prisoners must be intentional about claiming and embracing their own identity. Even in prison men can find a purpose bigger than themselves. They can begin to see the world outside of the bubble of prison and find ways to connect to and engage in the greater human struggle.
Prison might encourage a self-centered perspective, but humans were not designed to be purely independent creatures. We need each other and we often discover our own identities as we pursue a life that is focused on others.
Maybe independence and individuality aren't something to cherish after all. But neither are dependence and conformity. Instead, prisoners can find a balance through interdependence that appreciates our need for others while still maintaining a healthy responsibility for our own unique contributions to the benefit of all.
Saturday, November 19, 2016
Monday, November 14, 2016
Let's Not Build Walls, Let's Build Credibility
Aristotle, who was passionate about and perhaps the greatest practitioner of rhetoric, said that ethos is the most effective mode of persuasion. Speaking of ethos (credibility) he said, "Persuasion is achieved by the speaker's personal character when the speech is so spoken as to make us think him [or her] credible. We believe good [people] more fully and more readily than others." We are at the end of an exhausting political season where both top presidential candidates (not to speak of plenty of state and local candidates) seriously lacked credibility. It will remain to be seen if any of the politicians elected this year will prove themselves as people of good character. If history has anything to say about it, I wouldn't hold my breath in hope! Prisoners who are working to reform themselves face a credibility problem. Their prior credibility is normally shot and many prisoners continue to damage their credibility during their incarceration by minimizing their crimes, continuing violent behavior, and manipulating family and friends. Other prisoners try desperately to build their credibility, yet their efforts are rebuffed and they find it difficult to overcome their failures from the past. Most people cannot build credibility simply with speeches of unity and promises of reform, and prisoners are no different. To build credibility after damaging or destroying it, prisoners (and others!) must follow these principles: 1. Deal only with the truth. Whether it relates to discussing one's crime or simply in daily conversation, truth is an essential element of building credibility. 2. Develop a habit of faithfulness. Be faithful to your word and faithful to your convictions and values. Practice what you say you value. 3. Treat others with respect. People respect others who show people respect. People with different views and beliefs still deserve to be treated with dignity as image bearers of God. 4. Speak only about what you know and only when it is appropriate to speak. Prisoners gossip and spread rumors too much. They also claim knowledge they don't have. Study what you don't know so you are prepared to speak intelligently at the right time. 5. Be quick to ask for forgiveness and generous when giving it out. Someone who can easily admit he is wrong will often earn the respect of others. Likewise, one who recognizes that he who is forgiven much must also forgive much will gain the respect of others. Building credibility takes time and consistency, but nothing precludes starting today. Prison does not have to define someone, but just like those who destroy their credibility but don't end up in prison, prisoners must be intentional about rebuilding (or building!) their character and by extension their credibility. [Aristotle's quote comes from "The Rhetoric", Aristotle (1984), H.R. Roberts Tr., New York, The Modern Library] |
Friday, November 4, 2016
Capable of the Greatest Horrors and the Greatest Goodness
I read a quote the other day in one of my classes that spoke to me. It came from C.S. Lewis, the author of the Chronicles of Narnia book series, from his book Weight of Glory:
"It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you can talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror or a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal."
This quote struck me for two reasons:
1. No man or woman is immune to the possibility of a fall greater than even they could imagine.
2. Every person I meet has the potential to be used by God, regardless of how I may view them now.
Some people are raised in a culture where prison is a very real possibility for their future. I was not. I never imagined coming to prison. I had plans for my life, great plans. I was proud of myself and my accomplishments, and I had a future laid out for myself. I certainly didn't view myself as "ordinary." But I made choices that derailed my "great" plans, and now I sit in prison finding it difficult to imagine much of a future at all, let alone a great future. I never envisioned myself falling to these depths.
It is easier to envision in other people their potential for horror or corruption. It is safer than imagining myself capable of harming anyone. Even uninteresting people whom I don't think of as capable of corruption I often find difficult imagining as capable of greatness. Yet, God is not a respecter of persons. He uses people that most of us would overlook.
This leveling of the playing field humbles my view of myself and also helps me see others as carrying the dignity of God's image. It compels me to awaken others to the possibilities God has planted inside each of them. And as I waken to the value of others around me, I begin to discover for myself a possible future that was perfectly modeled by Jesus: The greatest work one can do is in spending oneself for others.
"It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you can talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror or a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal."
This quote struck me for two reasons:
1. No man or woman is immune to the possibility of a fall greater than even they could imagine.
2. Every person I meet has the potential to be used by God, regardless of how I may view them now.
Some people are raised in a culture where prison is a very real possibility for their future. I was not. I never imagined coming to prison. I had plans for my life, great plans. I was proud of myself and my accomplishments, and I had a future laid out for myself. I certainly didn't view myself as "ordinary." But I made choices that derailed my "great" plans, and now I sit in prison finding it difficult to imagine much of a future at all, let alone a great future. I never envisioned myself falling to these depths.
It is easier to envision in other people their potential for horror or corruption. It is safer than imagining myself capable of harming anyone. Even uninteresting people whom I don't think of as capable of corruption I often find difficult imagining as capable of greatness. Yet, God is not a respecter of persons. He uses people that most of us would overlook.
This leveling of the playing field humbles my view of myself and also helps me see others as carrying the dignity of God's image. It compels me to awaken others to the possibilities God has planted inside each of them. And as I waken to the value of others around me, I begin to discover for myself a possible future that was perfectly modeled by Jesus: The greatest work one can do is in spending oneself for others.
Forming Good Habits Requires Good Communities
Most people have heard the moral insight that bad company corrupts good morals, and the truthfulness of this insight is no more evident than in prison. While many prisoners were connected to the influence of negative communities before coming to prison, the unfortunate reality is that in being removed from these negative communities, prisoners are usually also cut out of whatever positive community influences they may have had. For example, my faith community was my primary community before I came to prison. When I came to prison though, I was not only removed from that community but also actively ostracized by them. This disconnection from my primary community was immediate and complete. In its place I was thrust into an unfamiliar and highly negative community which offered me no sense of belonging. At the time in my life when I needed the positive influences necessary for good habit formation, I was instead left without a positive community at all. The philosopher Aristotle said that good habits are difficult or even impossible to form in bad communities. Yet, that is exactly the herculean task given to prisoners who wish to change their lives and leave the negative influences of their past behind. Because positive communities are difficult to find in prison, to affect this change in themselves prisoners must often form their own sub-communities that lend the support and positive influence where positive change is found. Fortunately, I've been blessed to be a part of several positive communities in prison, and the Calvin Prison Initiative is only the latest of these. We prisoners may have been cut out like cancer from the communities where we belonged before prison, but some of us are now preparing to shape new communities in positive ways by developing or deepening good morals in positive communities like CPI. |
How Education Leads to Freedom for Prisoners
As I've written about before, research has found that education is an important key to reducing re-offense rates among paroled offenders. Perhaps it is because education expands one's options, and a former criminal no longer feels compelled to commit crimes to meet his needs and desires. Perhaps it is because more education changes a person's worldview so that crime is no longer viewed as an acceptable option. In his article "Only Connect: The Goals of a Liberal Education" William Cronon states that a liberal education is about human freedom and growth. If this is true, than a prisoner's incarceration begins long before he ever comes to prison. A lack of education can itself be a prison as it restricts one to the limited knowledge and frame of reference one gains through the social influences of his culture and upbringing. A greater education exposes one to broader ideas, social arguments, and research that have the power to change one's viewpoint from egocentric individuality to a community-centric focus. Through education one grows into the realization that his beliefs and behavior have consequences that extend beyond himself. No longer can he ignore the impact of his behavior on his family, friends, community, and culture. As Cronon says, education is not a state, it is a way of living that promotes connection to the human community. On the other hand, Napoleon Hill, author of Think and Grow Rich, said that "reformation comes, if at all, through the heart, or the emotional side of man, not through his head or reasoning side." This statement seems to contradict the evidence that education, clearly a cognitive function, can lead to reformation of one's behavior. But I don't think it contradicts at all. While education is a function of the mind,I would argue that one's beliefs that result in changed behavior are a function of intellect and emotion. The apostle James stated in James 2:19 "You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the devils believe that--and shudder." His point is that not all knowledge or belief changes behavior. Only the knowledge that one takes to heart and believes in his heart results in changed behavior. So why does education change a criminal's behaviors? Is he really taking this education to heart and changing his beliefs? Probably some are. Others may simply finally understand that pro-social behavior will serve their own wants and desires rather than continuing anti-social behavior which only leads to prison. Whether educations results in true reformation of beliefs and character or simply in a change in behavior as a consequence of greater understanding, those who would otherwise become victims of an offender's crimes would thank those who made the investment to reach the hearts and minds of offenders through education. As Cronon eloquently concludes, education frees one to discover his connection to community and finally focus on the greatest form of connection: Love for others. |
Friday, October 14, 2016
Restorative Justice Begins with Understanding
Guest Post by Shawn England #214964
In order to make Restorative Justice a successful enterprise it is necessary to understand the nature of those members of society who have broken the law. A significant number of offenders come from the lowest economic strata of society. Poverty on a large scale breeds a mindset, a feeling of futility, that leads to the idea that crime is the only way out of that brutal, purposeless world. These offenders often have no socialization during their formative years; no mother or father providing the foundational behaviors that are necessary for a person to be successful in society. This leads to a dis-integration of the offender with the community.
For many years the correctional institutions touted "rehabilitation" as the primary purpose of their existence. This was admirable and for a long time an effective strategy in the struggle against the criminal impulse present within a small segment of society. By providing education and programs designed to re-orient the offenders, recidivism was kept low and the prison populations were kept manageable. That worked when the average offender was a member of society who actively chose to step outside the bounds of acceptable behavior; it is less effective when the offenders begin life outside of those bounds.
Today the correctional system is overworked by the influx of young people who are disconnected from any comprehension of what it means to be obligated to conform to any societal contract. For many of this new generation of criminals the motivation that lays behind their offense is a lack of empathy engendered by a life on the ragged edge of society. For many there is no sense of community or connection to another. There is no foundation of behavior to impede their actions, so they see no reason to refrain from "doing what they want."
What this boils down to is that the old model of rehabilitation will not work because there was no habilitation to begin with. It has become necessary to socialize--or habilitate--these men in order to prepare them for re-integration into a society they have never felt a part of. If there are segments of society that are never taught to trust police officers as children, how can they be punished for not trusting them as adults? If a person is never taught that it is not okay to steal--and in some cases taught that stealing is just "gettin' down"--how can those people ever expect to truly integrate into society? The basic skills of interpersonal communication, critical thinking, and conflict resolution are often foreign concepts to these new "criminals."
In a society that is predominantly white middle class suburbanites, suddenly learning that there are segments of your society that don't feel connected can be difficult. It is likely that the majority of the population wishes to see all people succeed and flourish; however, accepting a responsible role in that flourishing can be daunting. It calls for a commitment to helping those invisible people who live far below the poverty line, in places most don't like to believe exist in the United States of America. I was born and raised there, so trust me, they do. They are ugly, violent places where a safe place to sleep is not guaranteed and a meal is truly a blessing.
Restorative Justice practices can provide the habilitation that these people need and help them succeed upon their release from prison. By instituting programs like Chance for Life, Thinking for a Change, Bridges, and others, the Department of Corrections has begun the first steps to a system that enables the offender to succeed upon their re-entry. This success is accomplished by providing the social skills and habilitation that so many of the offenders lack when they are first incarcerated. More needs to be done, ideally the Department should institute mandatory classes in morality and ethical behavior that will constitute a major portion of the offender's time. These classes should begin when the offender enters prison and continue until the offender is released. Only by instilling morals and ethical behaviors can a person truly be rehabilitated and become a productive member of society.
In order to make Restorative Justice a successful enterprise it is necessary to understand the nature of those members of society who have broken the law. A significant number of offenders come from the lowest economic strata of society. Poverty on a large scale breeds a mindset, a feeling of futility, that leads to the idea that crime is the only way out of that brutal, purposeless world. These offenders often have no socialization during their formative years; no mother or father providing the foundational behaviors that are necessary for a person to be successful in society. This leads to a dis-integration of the offender with the community.
For many years the correctional institutions touted "rehabilitation" as the primary purpose of their existence. This was admirable and for a long time an effective strategy in the struggle against the criminal impulse present within a small segment of society. By providing education and programs designed to re-orient the offenders, recidivism was kept low and the prison populations were kept manageable. That worked when the average offender was a member of society who actively chose to step outside the bounds of acceptable behavior; it is less effective when the offenders begin life outside of those bounds.
Today the correctional system is overworked by the influx of young people who are disconnected from any comprehension of what it means to be obligated to conform to any societal contract. For many of this new generation of criminals the motivation that lays behind their offense is a lack of empathy engendered by a life on the ragged edge of society. For many there is no sense of community or connection to another. There is no foundation of behavior to impede their actions, so they see no reason to refrain from "doing what they want."
What this boils down to is that the old model of rehabilitation will not work because there was no habilitation to begin with. It has become necessary to socialize--or habilitate--these men in order to prepare them for re-integration into a society they have never felt a part of. If there are segments of society that are never taught to trust police officers as children, how can they be punished for not trusting them as adults? If a person is never taught that it is not okay to steal--and in some cases taught that stealing is just "gettin' down"--how can those people ever expect to truly integrate into society? The basic skills of interpersonal communication, critical thinking, and conflict resolution are often foreign concepts to these new "criminals."
In a society that is predominantly white middle class suburbanites, suddenly learning that there are segments of your society that don't feel connected can be difficult. It is likely that the majority of the population wishes to see all people succeed and flourish; however, accepting a responsible role in that flourishing can be daunting. It calls for a commitment to helping those invisible people who live far below the poverty line, in places most don't like to believe exist in the United States of America. I was born and raised there, so trust me, they do. They are ugly, violent places where a safe place to sleep is not guaranteed and a meal is truly a blessing.
Restorative Justice practices can provide the habilitation that these people need and help them succeed upon their release from prison. By instituting programs like Chance for Life, Thinking for a Change, Bridges, and others, the Department of Corrections has begun the first steps to a system that enables the offender to succeed upon their re-entry. This success is accomplished by providing the social skills and habilitation that so many of the offenders lack when they are first incarcerated. More needs to be done, ideally the Department should institute mandatory classes in morality and ethical behavior that will constitute a major portion of the offender's time. These classes should begin when the offender enters prison and continue until the offender is released. Only by instilling morals and ethical behaviors can a person truly be rehabilitated and become a productive member of society.
Saturday, October 8, 2016
Can I Get a Little Respect Here?
When dealing with corrections there are many opinions on how prisoners should be treated. But the majority of opinions fall into two categories: Those who see prisoners as people of value who made bad choices but still have the capacity for positive change, and those who see prisoners as worthless specimens of humanity that should be kept away from society at all costs. This latter category believes that prisoners are either incapable of positive change or they do not deserve the opportunity to change.
These positions are sometimes framed as those who believe criminals are sent to prisoner AS punishment and those who believe criminals are sent to prison FOR punishment. Where one stands on these ideologies has a big impact on their day-to-day treatment of prisoners and on their philosophy of how prisoners are rehabilitated.
Just the other day I had an officer yell at me and lecture me for several minutes simply because I respectfully asked a clarifying question. Two days later I saw another officer cuss out a friend of mine, calling him a "whining f'n b___" simply because the officer was wrong for telling this prisoner he couldn't wear a shirt that the prison had issued him.
These are simple examples of the dehumanizing treatment those who see no value in prisoners use on a day-to-day basis.
Others, like the Warden of this prison, see value in each person. Warden Burton is trying to show the State of Michigan that treating prisoners as people who can bring value to their communities will lower re-offense rates and violence within prison. He recognizes that prisoners who are treated as valuable begin to see themselves that way. But not everyone agrees with his philosophy.
Psychiatrist James Gilligan ran experimental therapeutic communities within Massachusetts' prisons in the 1980s. He didn't do anything more radical than treat each prisoner with respect and allow them a safe place to express their fears and hopes. He saw tremendous results including the transformation of a serial killer who killed people even in prison into a compassionate and peaceful person. In the early 1990s Gilligan even started an educational program led by Harvard lecturers. But when a new governor (William Weld) was elected, Gilligan's therapeutic communities were shut down. Governor Weld saw prisoners as worthless human specimens, not as humans with potential.
Some people would argue that the criminals in prison didn't treat their victims with dignity, so why should the State treat them with dignity. It's a fair point, but one that ignores mountains of research data showing that giving broken people (like prisoners) hope for their future results in lower re-offense rates. It ignores the question of why people commit crime in the first place.
I'm hopeful that this time innovators like Warden Burton won't be replaced and the evidence that respect works won't be ignored. Those in society who expect prisoners to return to their communities to be safe deserve better.
* (The story of James Gilligan comes from "So You've Been Publicly Shamed" by Jon Ronson, pages 251-253)
These positions are sometimes framed as those who believe criminals are sent to prisoner AS punishment and those who believe criminals are sent to prison FOR punishment. Where one stands on these ideologies has a big impact on their day-to-day treatment of prisoners and on their philosophy of how prisoners are rehabilitated.
Just the other day I had an officer yell at me and lecture me for several minutes simply because I respectfully asked a clarifying question. Two days later I saw another officer cuss out a friend of mine, calling him a "whining f'n b___" simply because the officer was wrong for telling this prisoner he couldn't wear a shirt that the prison had issued him.
These are simple examples of the dehumanizing treatment those who see no value in prisoners use on a day-to-day basis.
Others, like the Warden of this prison, see value in each person. Warden Burton is trying to show the State of Michigan that treating prisoners as people who can bring value to their communities will lower re-offense rates and violence within prison. He recognizes that prisoners who are treated as valuable begin to see themselves that way. But not everyone agrees with his philosophy.
Psychiatrist James Gilligan ran experimental therapeutic communities within Massachusetts' prisons in the 1980s. He didn't do anything more radical than treat each prisoner with respect and allow them a safe place to express their fears and hopes. He saw tremendous results including the transformation of a serial killer who killed people even in prison into a compassionate and peaceful person. In the early 1990s Gilligan even started an educational program led by Harvard lecturers. But when a new governor (William Weld) was elected, Gilligan's therapeutic communities were shut down. Governor Weld saw prisoners as worthless human specimens, not as humans with potential.
Some people would argue that the criminals in prison didn't treat their victims with dignity, so why should the State treat them with dignity. It's a fair point, but one that ignores mountains of research data showing that giving broken people (like prisoners) hope for their future results in lower re-offense rates. It ignores the question of why people commit crime in the first place.
I'm hopeful that this time innovators like Warden Burton won't be replaced and the evidence that respect works won't be ignored. Those in society who expect prisoners to return to their communities to be safe deserve better.
* (The story of James Gilligan comes from "So You've Been Publicly Shamed" by Jon Ronson, pages 251-253)
Saturday, October 1, 2016
Is Jesus on M.T.V.?
"I'm in love with a woman I met online. She's everything I ever wanted! She understands me perfectly. The only problem is, I don't know if she is who she claims to be. I need your help!" This is an example of the types of emails that T.V. hosts Nev and Max might receive for their M.T.V. show "Catfish." Trusting people meet people online, fall in love, and as the show often reveals, later find out the person they fell in love with isn't who he or she claimed to be. While watching a recent episode of Catfish on T.V. it dawned on me that the show operates very much how victim-offender mediations occur using restorative justice practices. Victim-offender mediations (VOMs) are mediated by third-parties who help make sense of the dialogue, keep the conversations on track, and help to guide the discussions toward productive ends. This is precisely what Nev and Max do on their show. After conducting their investigations, Nev and Max facilitate a face-to-face meeting between the catfisher and the unwary victim. At this meeting the victim is able to ask questions of the catfisher ("Why?", "Why me?", etc.) and express anger, loss, hurt, bewilderment, and any other feelings experienced through the revelation of the scam. This mediated meeting between parties affords the offender a prime opportunity to own their deceptive behavior, own the consequences of the behavior (mostly experienced by the victim), and own the obligations created by the deception. These obligations vary with each case, but the majority involve a commitment to stop catfishing, take down fake online profiles, get help for emotional issues, and sometimes help to clean up the victim's damaged reputation. With restorative justice's religious roots, I found it ironic that the only modern example of well-known restorative justice practices is found in pop culture on, of all places, M.T.V., the same network responsible for Teen Mom, Mary + Jane, and Wild 'n Out. I am seeing encouraging signs that restorative justice practices are gaining wider acceptability, at least in educational circles. This leads me to hope that a significant shift in criminal justice and corrections philosophy in the United States will happen soon. It is yet unclear who will lead this much needed change, but it's not too late for churches and those who identify as religious to reclaim leadership in a movement that was perfectly illustrated in the life of Jesus, the greatest example of a mediator who restored broken people and broken relationships. If the church won't lead the way, people will just have to see the character of Christ illustrated in unlikely places, like on M.T.V. |
Monday, September 26, 2016
Please Use the F-Word!
I am still astounded from time to time by the filthy language I hear every day in prison, although sadly, I've been desensitized to much of it. But there is one word I don't hear enough of--that is the F-word.
No, I'm not talking about the four letter F-word. I'm talking about the eleven letter F-word: Forgiveness.
How ironic is it that the apostle Peter who asked Jesus how often he should forgive an offender was the same man that Jesus graciously forgave and restored after Peter had denied even knowing Jesus in His greatest hour of need.
This struggle, of wanting forgiveness when we have offended or harmed someone else, yet resisting offering forgiveness to another, often for a much lesser offense, is a problem common to human nature. But it is especially evident among those of us in prison.
Maybe it is because prisoners struggle so much with attitudes of entitlement, or maybe it's just more evident because of the closeness of this community. Either way, forgiveness is a choice each of us must make daily.
You might wonder what prisoners have to forgive. After all, aren't WE the ones greatly in need of forgiveness? Yes, that's true. We have much to be forgiven, and some of us may go a lifetime without ever hearing the words "I forgive you." But if we are to hope for forgiveness from those we have harmed, we too much be willing to extend forgiveness and grace to those who have wronged us.
For some prisoners that may include an overzealous prosecutor or a lying witness. For others it may be another prisoner who has harmed us, or a family who has abandoned us. It may even include corrections officers or staff who have disrespected us or treated us as less than human. Whatever the case, as Jesus also said, "To whom much is given, much is required."
Rather than waiting for the ones we have harmed to forgive us, we can begin to extend that same grace we long for to others who have harmed us. For most of us the grievance we may have against another doesn't even compare to the harm we have caused.
Forgiveness is a vital part of restorative justice, and prisoners who long to take part in restorative justice practices can begin by forgiving and attempting to reconcile with those who have offended us. We must practice what we wish to have from others.
For more information on the aspect of forgiveness in restorative justice, and to read compelling stories of forgiveness, check out The Forgiveness Project. (www.TheForgivenessProject.com)
No, I'm not talking about the four letter F-word. I'm talking about the eleven letter F-word: Forgiveness.
How ironic is it that the apostle Peter who asked Jesus how often he should forgive an offender was the same man that Jesus graciously forgave and restored after Peter had denied even knowing Jesus in His greatest hour of need.
This struggle, of wanting forgiveness when we have offended or harmed someone else, yet resisting offering forgiveness to another, often for a much lesser offense, is a problem common to human nature. But it is especially evident among those of us in prison.
Maybe it is because prisoners struggle so much with attitudes of entitlement, or maybe it's just more evident because of the closeness of this community. Either way, forgiveness is a choice each of us must make daily.
You might wonder what prisoners have to forgive. After all, aren't WE the ones greatly in need of forgiveness? Yes, that's true. We have much to be forgiven, and some of us may go a lifetime without ever hearing the words "I forgive you." But if we are to hope for forgiveness from those we have harmed, we too much be willing to extend forgiveness and grace to those who have wronged us.
For some prisoners that may include an overzealous prosecutor or a lying witness. For others it may be another prisoner who has harmed us, or a family who has abandoned us. It may even include corrections officers or staff who have disrespected us or treated us as less than human. Whatever the case, as Jesus also said, "To whom much is given, much is required."
Rather than waiting for the ones we have harmed to forgive us, we can begin to extend that same grace we long for to others who have harmed us. For most of us the grievance we may have against another doesn't even compare to the harm we have caused.
Forgiveness is a vital part of restorative justice, and prisoners who long to take part in restorative justice practices can begin by forgiving and attempting to reconcile with those who have offended us. We must practice what we wish to have from others.
For more information on the aspect of forgiveness in restorative justice, and to read compelling stories of forgiveness, check out The Forgiveness Project. (www.TheForgivenessProject.com)
Wednesday, September 21, 2016
United Behind a Common Enemy
Early in our nation's history the citizens of this country were united against a common enemy: the tyrannical King of England. We coalesced together and went to war against an enemy that threatened our way of life. We won that war, and thus began in this country a trend that has been common to civilizations throughout time: the need for a common enemy behind whom we can unite.
Americans have united against British loyalists, French revolutionaries, and ruthless world dominators. We have joined in fighting against alcohol (during prohibition), slavery, communism, and illicit drugs. Even now our nation is united in its war on terrorism. ISIS has become the face of evil that serves as more than a talking point for politicians. ISIS galvanizes the fears of the common public who has little power to do anything to assuage those fears.
Whenever and wherever fear exists so too does the opportunist who capitalizes on those fears. Take, for example, the politicians who seized on the terror of a grieving nation in the wake of the terror attacks on 9/11 to pass an over-reaching law, the so called Patriot Act, which stripped Americans of Constitutionally protected First Amendment rights to privacy.
Despite this grievous violation of the Constitution, political idealogues defended this law by posing an unrealistic scenario: either throw out the Constitution or suffer terror attacks.
Politicians and opportunists have likewise tricked the unwary public into believing that longer prison sentences and tough on crime laws will lower crime rates and keep the public safe. But rather than leading to lower crime rates and safer communities, these measures have only served to fill the war chests of savvy prison profiteers while bankrupting communities and schools who have their budgets cut while prison budgets explode.
Shrewd politicians know that, even in the face of evidence that lengthy prison sentences do not lead to lower crime rates, to appear soft on crime would be political suicide. But the mounting evidence against the failed policies of the last quarter century is beginning to gain the attention of the public and in turn of some courageous leaders.
A few leaders in Michigan have begun to recognize, for example, that a two billion dollar prison budget is not sustainable. As the outraged public begins to hold these politicians accountable for failing schools and crumbling infrastructure, these leaders have been forced to consider the fact that their war on crime has not worked.
While it is too early to tell if these leaders will follow through on true reforms of the excessively harsh and ineffective laws of the past, the signs of change are encouraging.
Perhaps it is too much to hope for though, that the next common enemy behind which Americans may unite are arrogant politicians who ignore the evidence of failures in order to continue pacifying special interest groups who fund the politicians' re-elections. But one could hope.
Americans have united against British loyalists, French revolutionaries, and ruthless world dominators. We have joined in fighting against alcohol (during prohibition), slavery, communism, and illicit drugs. Even now our nation is united in its war on terrorism. ISIS has become the face of evil that serves as more than a talking point for politicians. ISIS galvanizes the fears of the common public who has little power to do anything to assuage those fears.
Whenever and wherever fear exists so too does the opportunist who capitalizes on those fears. Take, for example, the politicians who seized on the terror of a grieving nation in the wake of the terror attacks on 9/11 to pass an over-reaching law, the so called Patriot Act, which stripped Americans of Constitutionally protected First Amendment rights to privacy.
Despite this grievous violation of the Constitution, political idealogues defended this law by posing an unrealistic scenario: either throw out the Constitution or suffer terror attacks.
Politicians and opportunists have likewise tricked the unwary public into believing that longer prison sentences and tough on crime laws will lower crime rates and keep the public safe. But rather than leading to lower crime rates and safer communities, these measures have only served to fill the war chests of savvy prison profiteers while bankrupting communities and schools who have their budgets cut while prison budgets explode.
Shrewd politicians know that, even in the face of evidence that lengthy prison sentences do not lead to lower crime rates, to appear soft on crime would be political suicide. But the mounting evidence against the failed policies of the last quarter century is beginning to gain the attention of the public and in turn of some courageous leaders.
A few leaders in Michigan have begun to recognize, for example, that a two billion dollar prison budget is not sustainable. As the outraged public begins to hold these politicians accountable for failing schools and crumbling infrastructure, these leaders have been forced to consider the fact that their war on crime has not worked.
While it is too early to tell if these leaders will follow through on true reforms of the excessively harsh and ineffective laws of the past, the signs of change are encouraging.
Perhaps it is too much to hope for though, that the next common enemy behind which Americans may unite are arrogant politicians who ignore the evidence of failures in order to continue pacifying special interest groups who fund the politicians' re-elections. But one could hope.
Sunday, September 11, 2016
Skeptics Beware: Change is Coming
Recently as I came back from a visit I overheard a conversation between two officers who were very critical of the new educational focus at the prison where I am housed. The conversation went something like this (some language has been changed to make it suitable for my blog):
Officer #1: "I don't know why the Warden thinks these programs are going to do any good."
Officer #2: "Yeah, these prisoners won't change."
Officer #1: "I am just waiting for one of these guys from the Vocational Village to get his parole and go out and rob, rape, or murder someone so people can see that they are wasting their money educating these prisoners."
I wasn't surprised to hear that these officers held this view, yet it's a sad reality that many officers and prison officials do not believe that criminals can change their thinking and behavior.
Another sad reality is that even with vocational training or higher education, some prisoners will be released and commit more crimes. But as studies have shown, vocational and college education does reduce reoffense rates, even if it doesn't entirely eliminate repeated crimes.
According to a study conducted by the RAND Corporation in 2014*, prisoners who participated in remedial, vocational, and post-secondary education while incarcerated are 43% less likely to reoffend within 3 years. That's a pretty significant reduction in reoffense rates. This reduction means 43% fewer victims of crimes, 43% fewer arrests for law enforcement to make, 43% fewer cases for the courts to handle, and 43% fewer prisoners the law abiding taxpayers must pay to keep locked up.
Perhaps the criticism and skepticism expressed by these officers is driven by a fear of losing their jobs; yet, if you ask the children of prisoners who have their fathers back and the mother who have their sons back, they would say it was worth a few lost jobs. If you were able to ask those who would have been victims of crimes were these prisoners not educated they would thank those who were courageous enough to go against the criticism of the opposition.
I know those of us who are benefiting by this education, and who face a brighter future because of it, are grateful.
Regardless of what statistics may say, some skeptics, like these officers I overheard, will always oppose anything that may improve a prisoner's life, because they don't believe we are valuable enough to invest in. For people who see value in those of us who failed to make the right choices in the past, we prisoners now have a duty to not only stay out of prison, but also to give back to the communities we offended.
* RAND Corporation, "How Effective is Correctional Education, and Where Do We Go From Here?" (2014)
Officer #1: "I don't know why the Warden thinks these programs are going to do any good."
Officer #2: "Yeah, these prisoners won't change."
Officer #1: "I am just waiting for one of these guys from the Vocational Village to get his parole and go out and rob, rape, or murder someone so people can see that they are wasting their money educating these prisoners."
I wasn't surprised to hear that these officers held this view, yet it's a sad reality that many officers and prison officials do not believe that criminals can change their thinking and behavior.
Another sad reality is that even with vocational training or higher education, some prisoners will be released and commit more crimes. But as studies have shown, vocational and college education does reduce reoffense rates, even if it doesn't entirely eliminate repeated crimes.
According to a study conducted by the RAND Corporation in 2014*, prisoners who participated in remedial, vocational, and post-secondary education while incarcerated are 43% less likely to reoffend within 3 years. That's a pretty significant reduction in reoffense rates. This reduction means 43% fewer victims of crimes, 43% fewer arrests for law enforcement to make, 43% fewer cases for the courts to handle, and 43% fewer prisoners the law abiding taxpayers must pay to keep locked up.
Perhaps the criticism and skepticism expressed by these officers is driven by a fear of losing their jobs; yet, if you ask the children of prisoners who have their fathers back and the mother who have their sons back, they would say it was worth a few lost jobs. If you were able to ask those who would have been victims of crimes were these prisoners not educated they would thank those who were courageous enough to go against the criticism of the opposition.
I know those of us who are benefiting by this education, and who face a brighter future because of it, are grateful.
Regardless of what statistics may say, some skeptics, like these officers I overheard, will always oppose anything that may improve a prisoner's life, because they don't believe we are valuable enough to invest in. For people who see value in those of us who failed to make the right choices in the past, we prisoners now have a duty to not only stay out of prison, but also to give back to the communities we offended.
* RAND Corporation, "How Effective is Correctional Education, and Where Do We Go From Here?" (2014)
Comfortably Numb
As I ran the track the other day during yard time I had my radio tuned to classic rock. Pink Floyd's classic song "Comfortably Numb" began playing, and soon I was thinking about the many applications the song had to prisoners. Besides the obvious connection between the song and many prisoners' past drug and alcohol abuse, I thought also about the numbness many prisoners develop in prison after years of repressed emotions.
Prison is intended to provide separation between the offender and the society whose laws he broke. But prison also ends up separating offenders from their family and community connections that provide a sense of belonging and connectedness.
Over time family and friends get busy and drift away. Letters and visits become less frequent, and the prisoner soon acutely feels a sense of being forgotten. Instead of being a part of family decisions, significant family events, and sharing real time in the family's joys and sorrows, the prisoner is informed (if at all) as an afterthought.
To be fair, the prisoner put himself in this position and much of the burden to keep the relationship going lies on the family. It is not a fair situation for anyone.
I have seen prisoners who remain stoic and unmoved, even shrugging and saying things like, "such is life" when a family member dies. I never understood this before, but now I see that shared grief within a community is a part of healthy grief. Prisoners don't have the freedom to participate in collective grief. Funerals, wakes, and gatherings of family and friends provide the community where healthy grief (and joy) takes place.
Prisoners, who are isolated from communal grief and communal joy, repress their emotions hardening themselves to these natural human responses. The very segment of society who needs to develop empathy the most ends up building walls to protect themselves from the pain of unexpressed grief and unshared joy.
Many prisoners feel that expressing these emotions in prison is not safe, that somehow it makes them appear weak. Though this is simply not the case, perception wins and many prisoners harden themselves anyway.
Studies have shown that community and family connections are essential for a prisoner's success on release from prison. So if families and communities want emotionally healthy men to return to them, these connections need to be cultivated and cared for. Some men may resist these connections, but the vast majority of men in prison long for meaningful relationships. We want to share in our families' joy and sorrow and have a part in what makes our family a community. No one wants to become comfortably numb.
Prison is intended to provide separation between the offender and the society whose laws he broke. But prison also ends up separating offenders from their family and community connections that provide a sense of belonging and connectedness.
Over time family and friends get busy and drift away. Letters and visits become less frequent, and the prisoner soon acutely feels a sense of being forgotten. Instead of being a part of family decisions, significant family events, and sharing real time in the family's joys and sorrows, the prisoner is informed (if at all) as an afterthought.
To be fair, the prisoner put himself in this position and much of the burden to keep the relationship going lies on the family. It is not a fair situation for anyone.
I have seen prisoners who remain stoic and unmoved, even shrugging and saying things like, "such is life" when a family member dies. I never understood this before, but now I see that shared grief within a community is a part of healthy grief. Prisoners don't have the freedom to participate in collective grief. Funerals, wakes, and gatherings of family and friends provide the community where healthy grief (and joy) takes place.
Prisoners, who are isolated from communal grief and communal joy, repress their emotions hardening themselves to these natural human responses. The very segment of society who needs to develop empathy the most ends up building walls to protect themselves from the pain of unexpressed grief and unshared joy.
Many prisoners feel that expressing these emotions in prison is not safe, that somehow it makes them appear weak. Though this is simply not the case, perception wins and many prisoners harden themselves anyway.
Studies have shown that community and family connections are essential for a prisoner's success on release from prison. So if families and communities want emotionally healthy men to return to them, these connections need to be cultivated and cared for. Some men may resist these connections, but the vast majority of men in prison long for meaningful relationships. We want to share in our families' joy and sorrow and have a part in what makes our family a community. No one wants to become comfortably numb.
Friday, September 2, 2016
How Fear of a Putdown Damages Relationships
The other day I was walking back from chow with another inmate, and this prisoner used the opportunity to tell me that he felt a mutual friend of ours was very negative and put him down a lot. He then reinforced his grievance by telling me that a whole group of us treated him this way, and he felt like we did not respect him.
I was a little confused that this prisoner, who has a very negative outlook on life himself, would accuse someone else of being negative. But after listening to him I suggested that perhaps he was internalizing and personalizing things that were not meant to be a personal attack. This prisoner immediately assumed a victim role and said, "You're right. It's all my problem. I'm always the problem; it's never anyone else."
While I did suggest that his interpretation of other people's behavior might be inaccurate, my intention was simply to have him consider the power he had in his own response. That suggestion did not go over well.
Since that time I have been trying to figure out how to respond in situations like this. I want to be empathetic towards people and be a safe place for people to go when they need a listening ear. But I don't want to empower or reinforce criminal thinking patterns such as this prisoner's. I also don't want to surround myself with people who can only see life through a negative filter and who refuse to assume responsibility for their own reactions and responses.
In his book The Criminal Personality, renowned criminologist Dr. Stanton Samenow lists one criminal thinking pattern as "fear of a putdown." Samenow states, "The criminal is hypersensitive when it comes to interpreting others' attitudes toward him" (260).
Nobody likes to be put down, but just like my friend who interprets nearly everything other people say as a criticism of him, this excessive fear of a putdown is pervasive through prison. It doesn't always involve actual criticism though. According to Samenow, "For a criminal, a putdown occurs when someone else fails to meet his every desire, bend to his will, [or] fulfill his every expectation' (262).
This sort of attitude leaves the family and friends of such a prisoner in an impossible bind: either coddle this criminal thinking or distance oneself from the prisoner. This fear of a putdown is like a security blanket an insecure prisoner holds onto as a way to shield himself from assuming responsibility for his actual failures. These failures, then, are always someone else's fault.
I don't yet know how my understanding of this prisoner's behavior will change the dynamic of our friendship. It is abundantly clear to me that he does not want another perspective on his interpretation of others' behavior. Yet, I refuse to be a dumping ground for another prisoner's insecurity.
For now, I will continue to hold space for him without sacrificing my truth shared in love. How he responds will simply be his own responsibility.
I was a little confused that this prisoner, who has a very negative outlook on life himself, would accuse someone else of being negative. But after listening to him I suggested that perhaps he was internalizing and personalizing things that were not meant to be a personal attack. This prisoner immediately assumed a victim role and said, "You're right. It's all my problem. I'm always the problem; it's never anyone else."
While I did suggest that his interpretation of other people's behavior might be inaccurate, my intention was simply to have him consider the power he had in his own response. That suggestion did not go over well.
Since that time I have been trying to figure out how to respond in situations like this. I want to be empathetic towards people and be a safe place for people to go when they need a listening ear. But I don't want to empower or reinforce criminal thinking patterns such as this prisoner's. I also don't want to surround myself with people who can only see life through a negative filter and who refuse to assume responsibility for their own reactions and responses.
In his book The Criminal Personality, renowned criminologist Dr. Stanton Samenow lists one criminal thinking pattern as "fear of a putdown." Samenow states, "The criminal is hypersensitive when it comes to interpreting others' attitudes toward him" (260).
Nobody likes to be put down, but just like my friend who interprets nearly everything other people say as a criticism of him, this excessive fear of a putdown is pervasive through prison. It doesn't always involve actual criticism though. According to Samenow, "For a criminal, a putdown occurs when someone else fails to meet his every desire, bend to his will, [or] fulfill his every expectation' (262).
This sort of attitude leaves the family and friends of such a prisoner in an impossible bind: either coddle this criminal thinking or distance oneself from the prisoner. This fear of a putdown is like a security blanket an insecure prisoner holds onto as a way to shield himself from assuming responsibility for his actual failures. These failures, then, are always someone else's fault.
I don't yet know how my understanding of this prisoner's behavior will change the dynamic of our friendship. It is abundantly clear to me that he does not want another perspective on his interpretation of others' behavior. Yet, I refuse to be a dumping ground for another prisoner's insecurity.
For now, I will continue to hold space for him without sacrificing my truth shared in love. How he responds will simply be his own responsibility.
Saturday, August 6, 2016
A Criminal's Pervasive Sense of Uniqueness
For most of my life I have been different from most everyone around me. We're all different from each other in many ways, but for me those differences meant I didn't fit in well with any crowd. If you asked me to tell you how I was different I probably couldn't. It was always just a feeling like I didn't connect or belong. This meant that at any time in my life I had one or two friends but no greater social circle to which I belonged, even though I sometimes appeared socially outgoing.
Perhaps that is why I find it ironic that a criminal personality trait is "a pervasive sense of uniqueness [that] constitutes the cornerstone of [the criminal's] self-image." (taken from The Criminal Personality, by Yochelson & Samenow, 315).
In prison I frequently hear declarations of one's uniqueness ("Ain't nobody like me bro!", and "Nobody can do what I can do...", among many others). There seems to be a pervasive desire to see oneself as unique from others. Yet, at the same time prisoners who actually are different and don't fit the mold of what other prisoners believe a criminal to be are often targeted for ridicule, extortion, robbery, or bullying. With the right social intelligence though, even people who really are different from the norm can avoid becoming a target.
I never wanted to be different from others so I don't understand the draw towards distinguishing oneself from others. I have learned social skills that are necessary to build connections with others, and I've discovered that more people respond to authenticity (including one's genuine uniqueness) than to false masks that are used to fit in.
It's liberating to see oneself as a unique part of a greater whole that needs each person's uniqueness to form a beautiful complexity. Uniqueness doesn't mean inferior or superior; it means different, but essential.
The criminal personality celebrates his own uniqueness in a way that elevates his importance (in his own mind) over others. A healthy personality celebrates one's uniqueness as an essential part of a collection of unique but equally important individuals.
Today I still feel different from mostly everyone around me, but I no longer feel that my differences make me inferior to others. I also don't believe my differences make me superior. They just make me who I am, and I know that I can add value to whatever community I happen to be in, even prison.
Perhaps that is why I find it ironic that a criminal personality trait is "a pervasive sense of uniqueness [that] constitutes the cornerstone of [the criminal's] self-image." (taken from The Criminal Personality, by Yochelson & Samenow, 315).
In prison I frequently hear declarations of one's uniqueness ("Ain't nobody like me bro!", and "Nobody can do what I can do...", among many others). There seems to be a pervasive desire to see oneself as unique from others. Yet, at the same time prisoners who actually are different and don't fit the mold of what other prisoners believe a criminal to be are often targeted for ridicule, extortion, robbery, or bullying. With the right social intelligence though, even people who really are different from the norm can avoid becoming a target.
I never wanted to be different from others so I don't understand the draw towards distinguishing oneself from others. I have learned social skills that are necessary to build connections with others, and I've discovered that more people respond to authenticity (including one's genuine uniqueness) than to false masks that are used to fit in.
It's liberating to see oneself as a unique part of a greater whole that needs each person's uniqueness to form a beautiful complexity. Uniqueness doesn't mean inferior or superior; it means different, but essential.
The criminal personality celebrates his own uniqueness in a way that elevates his importance (in his own mind) over others. A healthy personality celebrates one's uniqueness as an essential part of a collection of unique but equally important individuals.
Today I still feel different from mostly everyone around me, but I no longer feel that my differences make me inferior to others. I also don't believe my differences make me superior. They just make me who I am, and I know that I can add value to whatever community I happen to be in, even prison.
Friday, July 29, 2016
Let's Change the Conversation
The recent killings of police officers in Dallas and Baton Rouge reflect a growing anger and frustration among minorities especially, but Americans in general, towards the law enforcement community and by extension the entire criminal justice system.
Every time the media fills our T.V. screens with images and stories of another young black man killed by a police officer, the racial tension grows. It grows in our communities, it grows in our churches, it grows in our schools, and it grows in our prisons.
Fifty plus years of work towards healing between people groups is threatened every time another suspect is deprived of equal justice and served his sentence instead by a cop who will himself be given unequal justice by the courts who refuse to hold rogue cops accountable.
These years of work towards healing are also threatened whenever hatred towards these injustices results in the killing of cops. Martin Luther King Jr. refused to engage in violent behavior, or to encourage violence with hateful and divisive rhetoric because he understood that hate is never healed with hate.
It's time for our country to fix the problem of street and judicial injustice and to begin to find solutions that are inclusive and healing. It is also time for the hateful and divisive rhetoric of the violent protesters to stop. Let's stop fueling a growing divide and begin healing the brokenness, fear, and hatred that exists on both sides.
If we want to change this divide we must change the conversation. We cannot depend on politicians to solve this problem though. We must own it ourselves and begin an honest dialogue where the tension grows the most: in our communities, churches, schools, and prisons.
Every time the media fills our T.V. screens with images and stories of another young black man killed by a police officer, the racial tension grows. It grows in our communities, it grows in our churches, it grows in our schools, and it grows in our prisons.
Fifty plus years of work towards healing between people groups is threatened every time another suspect is deprived of equal justice and served his sentence instead by a cop who will himself be given unequal justice by the courts who refuse to hold rogue cops accountable.
These years of work towards healing are also threatened whenever hatred towards these injustices results in the killing of cops. Martin Luther King Jr. refused to engage in violent behavior, or to encourage violence with hateful and divisive rhetoric because he understood that hate is never healed with hate.
It's time for our country to fix the problem of street and judicial injustice and to begin to find solutions that are inclusive and healing. It is also time for the hateful and divisive rhetoric of the violent protesters to stop. Let's stop fueling a growing divide and begin healing the brokenness, fear, and hatred that exists on both sides.
If we want to change this divide we must change the conversation. We cannot depend on politicians to solve this problem though. We must own it ourselves and begin an honest dialogue where the tension grows the most: in our communities, churches, schools, and prisons.
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
What Motivates People to Change?
When I worked as a GED tutor in prison I often had an insightful look into human nature and at times, more specifically, into the attitudes and behaviors typical in criminal personalities.
A high school diploma or GED is the bare minimum needed to get a job today. Yet, many of the men I worked with placed very little value on this achievement. The psychological factors for this apathy are many and varied. Feelings of low self-worth or ability, fear of embarrassment of peers, or simply an apathy or hatred toward societal norms are only a few of these factors.
I am no a psychologist so I do no try to resolve these underlying issues when I tutor other prisoners. However, I often try to identify what motivates a student so that I can more effectively appeal to these things as I tutor.
Although research done by the RAND Corporation has shown a correlation between education and lower re-offense rates, the Michigan Department of Corrections makes almost no effort to incentivize the achievement of educational milestones. In most Michigan prisons when a prisoner successfully completes his GED his picture is taken with a certificate and posted in the school building. There is no attempt to celebrate this often monumental first positive achievement in the life of these prisoners.
People are motivated by either internal or external factors, and sometimes by a combination of these. The obvious external factors for GED prisoner students is recognition among peers, and more importantly, recognition by one's mother, grandmother, or children. Another external factor is if the parole board wants to see the completion of this milestone.
External factors are important, and they are often the first place to start appealing to when trying to motivate someone. However, internal factors are much stronger than external factors.
Some internal factors include the drive or need for achievement, cultural expectations, and intrinsic motivation or self-motivated behavior toward a goal.
These factors are rare among prisoner students, and therefore difficult to use successfully in an appeal. I personally believe that internatl factors of motivation cannot be taught, but I believe it is possible to awaken in a person the internal factors already present that lay dormant. When I have tutored I tried to excite the student to the possibilities new-found knowledge can bring to his life. This is not always effective, but I've learned that until someone really wants something himself he'll find many reasons and excuses to avoid achieving it.
A high school diploma or GED is the bare minimum needed to get a job today. Yet, many of the men I worked with placed very little value on this achievement. The psychological factors for this apathy are many and varied. Feelings of low self-worth or ability, fear of embarrassment of peers, or simply an apathy or hatred toward societal norms are only a few of these factors.
I am no a psychologist so I do no try to resolve these underlying issues when I tutor other prisoners. However, I often try to identify what motivates a student so that I can more effectively appeal to these things as I tutor.
Although research done by the RAND Corporation has shown a correlation between education and lower re-offense rates, the Michigan Department of Corrections makes almost no effort to incentivize the achievement of educational milestones. In most Michigan prisons when a prisoner successfully completes his GED his picture is taken with a certificate and posted in the school building. There is no attempt to celebrate this often monumental first positive achievement in the life of these prisoners.
People are motivated by either internal or external factors, and sometimes by a combination of these. The obvious external factors for GED prisoner students is recognition among peers, and more importantly, recognition by one's mother, grandmother, or children. Another external factor is if the parole board wants to see the completion of this milestone.
External factors are important, and they are often the first place to start appealing to when trying to motivate someone. However, internal factors are much stronger than external factors.
Some internal factors include the drive or need for achievement, cultural expectations, and intrinsic motivation or self-motivated behavior toward a goal.
These factors are rare among prisoner students, and therefore difficult to use successfully in an appeal. I personally believe that internatl factors of motivation cannot be taught, but I believe it is possible to awaken in a person the internal factors already present that lay dormant. When I have tutored I tried to excite the student to the possibilities new-found knowledge can bring to his life. This is not always effective, but I've learned that until someone really wants something himself he'll find many reasons and excuses to avoid achieving it.
Saturday, July 16, 2016
One Critical Key to Successful Habit Change
I recently finished reading The Power of Habit by Charles Duhigg. In this book he claims that one important element of habit formation, really habit change, is harnessing the power of group dynamics. According to Duhigg the persistence of habit change is greatly enhanced when one first believes in his or her own ability to change and then surrounds himself or herself with people who likewise share in this desire and belief in change.
This use of group dynamics is not a new concept. Weight Watchers has capitalized on it for decades. It is also, as researchers have recently discovered, the key to success in twelve-step programs like Alcoholics Anonymous. Even religion has reinforced faith for centuries using the power of assembling like-minded followers on a weekly basis.
I do not know if the success of group support for habit change is because of the added motivation of other travellers on the same journey or because of the increase in fear of shame from failing that one feels by involving others. I suppose it could be a combination of both.
Nevertheless, as I read Duhigg's book I wondered how the concepts could be applied in the prison setting. Frankly, I think that is exactly the reason why I was assigned to read this book by a Calvin College professor in the first place. How can I personally apply these principles, and how can I affect change in my prison community with these concepts?
From a personal perspective, the idea of changing habits in my life that have either been unhelpful or have had a direct influence in leading me to prison becomes even more urgent and important in my continued growth. Applying the power of group support means searching out and surrounding myself with other men in prison who hold the same desire and belief in change. To me it also means finding "supporters" outside of prison who will believe in my ability to change and who have the desire to see that change in my life. It even means finding people who have already travelled the path I am on who will encourage me.
Affecting change within the prison community is a little more difficult. The level of apathy and complete hopelessness, or worse yet the denial in believing one needs to change are difficult hurdles to overcome. As with any change, however, it is important to start where one is able. I may not be able to change the culture of prison, but I can work to change the content of a conversation. I can seek out like-minded men who may only be like-minded in one way and build on that. I can work to change the negative attitudes around me by exuding a spirit of gratefulness.
Sometimes group dynamics happen organically and quickly. Other times, and I would argue more sustainably, it happens intentionally and grows slowly. The key is to be intentional and consistent so others will want to become a part of the change they see in me.
Let me ask you: In what ways has a group positively affected change in your life? Is there a habit that needs to be changed in your life that would benefit from the power of group support? What is keeping you from starting today?
This use of group dynamics is not a new concept. Weight Watchers has capitalized on it for decades. It is also, as researchers have recently discovered, the key to success in twelve-step programs like Alcoholics Anonymous. Even religion has reinforced faith for centuries using the power of assembling like-minded followers on a weekly basis.
I do not know if the success of group support for habit change is because of the added motivation of other travellers on the same journey or because of the increase in fear of shame from failing that one feels by involving others. I suppose it could be a combination of both.
Nevertheless, as I read Duhigg's book I wondered how the concepts could be applied in the prison setting. Frankly, I think that is exactly the reason why I was assigned to read this book by a Calvin College professor in the first place. How can I personally apply these principles, and how can I affect change in my prison community with these concepts?
From a personal perspective, the idea of changing habits in my life that have either been unhelpful or have had a direct influence in leading me to prison becomes even more urgent and important in my continued growth. Applying the power of group support means searching out and surrounding myself with other men in prison who hold the same desire and belief in change. To me it also means finding "supporters" outside of prison who will believe in my ability to change and who have the desire to see that change in my life. It even means finding people who have already travelled the path I am on who will encourage me.
Affecting change within the prison community is a little more difficult. The level of apathy and complete hopelessness, or worse yet the denial in believing one needs to change are difficult hurdles to overcome. As with any change, however, it is important to start where one is able. I may not be able to change the culture of prison, but I can work to change the content of a conversation. I can seek out like-minded men who may only be like-minded in one way and build on that. I can work to change the negative attitudes around me by exuding a spirit of gratefulness.
Sometimes group dynamics happen organically and quickly. Other times, and I would argue more sustainably, it happens intentionally and grows slowly. The key is to be intentional and consistent so others will want to become a part of the change they see in me.
Let me ask you: In what ways has a group positively affected change in your life? Is there a habit that needs to be changed in your life that would benefit from the power of group support? What is keeping you from starting today?
Sunday, July 10, 2016
Calvin College is Making a Difference in Prison
I recently arrived at a new prison facility to begin participating in a bachelors degree program called the Calvin College Prison Initiative. This program is a donor sponsored bachelors degree program in ministry leadership provided by Calvin College our of Grand Rapids, Michigan. Twenty prisoners are selected each year to participate based on their desire, their institutional behavior record, and educational criteria determined by Calvin staff.
This program is designed to train prisoners to be effective positive leaders in their communities both in prison and upon release. This is a worthy goal that can be supported by prison officials and community leaders alike.
I am excited to begin classes in September. The challenge of the classroom and book work is something I relish. In the meantime, I am building relationships and becoming a part of the culture that has already begun to be established by the first year students.
When this year's students arrived at MTU from the previous prisons where they had been housed, the inaugural class greeted us warmly with open arms. While we waited for our property to be processed and returned to us, some of the first year students handed us deodorants, toothbrushes, and toothpaste so we could clean up from our gruelingly long and exhausting transfer.
This was my first peek into the subculture of the Calvin College students within the broader and more selfish culture of prison. While is is still too early to tell, I am hopeful that this attitude of brotherhood, generosity of spirit, and cooperation runs deep and remains strong. I am sure that conflicts and differences will arise, but if we are being trained to be effective, positive leaders these should be nothing more than opportunities to practice the skills and knowledge we acquire.
I am grateful that the staff at Calvin College and the generous donors who make this Prison Initiative possible have the heart to believe in the redemptive value of society's outcasts and the courage to act out their faith in such a tangible way. I know this opportunity will have a positive impact in my life.
This program is designed to train prisoners to be effective positive leaders in their communities both in prison and upon release. This is a worthy goal that can be supported by prison officials and community leaders alike.
I am excited to begin classes in September. The challenge of the classroom and book work is something I relish. In the meantime, I am building relationships and becoming a part of the culture that has already begun to be established by the first year students.
When this year's students arrived at MTU from the previous prisons where they had been housed, the inaugural class greeted us warmly with open arms. While we waited for our property to be processed and returned to us, some of the first year students handed us deodorants, toothbrushes, and toothpaste so we could clean up from our gruelingly long and exhausting transfer.
This was my first peek into the subculture of the Calvin College students within the broader and more selfish culture of prison. While is is still too early to tell, I am hopeful that this attitude of brotherhood, generosity of spirit, and cooperation runs deep and remains strong. I am sure that conflicts and differences will arise, but if we are being trained to be effective, positive leaders these should be nothing more than opportunities to practice the skills and knowledge we acquire.
I am grateful that the staff at Calvin College and the generous donors who make this Prison Initiative possible have the heart to believe in the redemptive value of society's outcasts and the courage to act out their faith in such a tangible way. I know this opportunity will have a positive impact in my life.
Friday, July 1, 2016
3 Important Steps to Accountability in Restorative Justice
One of the core tenets of restorative justice is the idea of accountability. Accountability is important for those who have committed crimes, but it is also an important element in maintaining healthy relationships, in and out of prison.
The idea of accountability sounds good, especially to those who have been harmed by another, but it would be helpful to have a working definition of what accountability looks like. I have identified the following three elements to accountability that you may find helpful in healing your own relationships:
1. We must own our behavior
Participants in Alcoholics Anonymous meetings introduce themselves by ending with "and I'm an alcoholic." Holding oneself accountable begins by acknowledging responsibility for our behavior. This does not necessarily mean labeling ourselves as "criminal" or "bad", or even alcoholic. But it does mean identifying the harms we have caused and owning responsibility for those harms. It means admitting things like, "I caused the victim to be terrified", "I was responsible (directly or indirectly) for that person's death", or even "my attitude caused a rift in our relationship."
This owning must not be accompanied by excuses though. Excuses minimize responsibility and prevent the healing process from taking place. Excuses like "I was drunk", "I was raised in an abusive home", "nobody would give me a job", or "I wasn't the only one at fault" all try to shift responsibility from the offender to someone or something else.
Owning our behavior must come with no qualifiers; we accept our responsibility for the harm we caused with no "ifs" or "buts" attached.
2. We must own the consequences of our behavior
Nobody wants to experience negative consequences to their behavior. We may no say that we want to get off scot free, but we often believe our offenses should either be completely forgiven or overlooked. But life rarely works that way. Even natural laws define consequences. For example, the law of gravity says that what goes up must come down. It is illogical to believe that bad behavior will not be followed by negative consequences.
We experience bad consequences, but our victims also experience bad consequences from our behavior and we must own our cause in these consequences. Sometimes consequences cannot be changed and we must acknowledge that: "I will never get back the time lost with my children", "I can never bring back the person I killed", or "I can never take back those hurtful words." Some consequences can be lessened by our attempts at healing the harms we have done, but whether or not this is the case, we are still responsible for the consequences that first existed and for what remains.
3. We must own our obligations
When we harm someone we create obligations to that person and possibly to others as a result of our behavior. The most basic obligation we create is to apologize for the harms we have caused. Our obligations may also include restitution of what was taken, damaged, or destroyed; a commitment to identify and change our faulty thinking patterns; working to prevent similar future harms by ourselves or others; and restoring security, power, and dignity to the person we harmed.
Other obligations also exist that may include seeking professional help for our compulsions, or paying for counseling for our victims.
Being accountable for one's behavior is an important part of healing for both the victim and offender. Offenders who truly desire to change and to participate in the healing for those they have harmed must start by being accountable for their actions. When this happens restorative justice has begun.
The idea of accountability sounds good, especially to those who have been harmed by another, but it would be helpful to have a working definition of what accountability looks like. I have identified the following three elements to accountability that you may find helpful in healing your own relationships:
1. We must own our behavior
Participants in Alcoholics Anonymous meetings introduce themselves by ending with "and I'm an alcoholic." Holding oneself accountable begins by acknowledging responsibility for our behavior. This does not necessarily mean labeling ourselves as "criminal" or "bad", or even alcoholic. But it does mean identifying the harms we have caused and owning responsibility for those harms. It means admitting things like, "I caused the victim to be terrified", "I was responsible (directly or indirectly) for that person's death", or even "my attitude caused a rift in our relationship."
This owning must not be accompanied by excuses though. Excuses minimize responsibility and prevent the healing process from taking place. Excuses like "I was drunk", "I was raised in an abusive home", "nobody would give me a job", or "I wasn't the only one at fault" all try to shift responsibility from the offender to someone or something else.
Owning our behavior must come with no qualifiers; we accept our responsibility for the harm we caused with no "ifs" or "buts" attached.
2. We must own the consequences of our behavior
Nobody wants to experience negative consequences to their behavior. We may no say that we want to get off scot free, but we often believe our offenses should either be completely forgiven or overlooked. But life rarely works that way. Even natural laws define consequences. For example, the law of gravity says that what goes up must come down. It is illogical to believe that bad behavior will not be followed by negative consequences.
We experience bad consequences, but our victims also experience bad consequences from our behavior and we must own our cause in these consequences. Sometimes consequences cannot be changed and we must acknowledge that: "I will never get back the time lost with my children", "I can never bring back the person I killed", or "I can never take back those hurtful words." Some consequences can be lessened by our attempts at healing the harms we have done, but whether or not this is the case, we are still responsible for the consequences that first existed and for what remains.
3. We must own our obligations
When we harm someone we create obligations to that person and possibly to others as a result of our behavior. The most basic obligation we create is to apologize for the harms we have caused. Our obligations may also include restitution of what was taken, damaged, or destroyed; a commitment to identify and change our faulty thinking patterns; working to prevent similar future harms by ourselves or others; and restoring security, power, and dignity to the person we harmed.
Other obligations also exist that may include seeking professional help for our compulsions, or paying for counseling for our victims.
Being accountable for one's behavior is an important part of healing for both the victim and offender. Offenders who truly desire to change and to participate in the healing for those they have harmed must start by being accountable for their actions. When this happens restorative justice has begun.
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
A Grueling Journey--The Prison Transfer
I was recently transferred to a different facility to participate in the Calvin College Initiative, which is a college degree program for prison inmates in Michigan. I'm excited about the opportunity and I'm looking forward to the challenge.
Because this program is conducted at a facility in Ionia (MTU) and not at the prison where I had been for the last nearly four years, I had to be transferred. What an experience a prison transfer is!
My day started at midnight when I was woken by my unit officer and told to pack because I was leaving. I had to pack quietly because everyone else in my cube was sleeping, but I managed to do this and then bring my property to the officer. After unpacking to inventory my property with the officer, I repacked and laid back down in my prison blues, my transfer outfit. I couldn't go back to sleep because of the adrenaline and anticipation, but finally around 3:30 AM I fell back asleep, only to be woken again at 4AM and told it was time to leave. I left without saying goodbye to most of the men I had grown to know over the last nearly four years; they were all asleep or in different units.
I and about a dozen other guys went to the control center where we waited for further instructions. At 5AM or so we were given a bag with four pieces of bread, one thin slice of bologna, peanut butter and jelly, an apple, and a cookie and told we needed to eat now if we wanted to eat before lunch. Finally around 6:15AM we began to be strip searched, handcuffed to belly chains, and shackled.
Just after 7AM we were loaded onto a thirteen passenger van, crammed in so tightly several guys were half on, half off the benches. We drove to a central location where the trailer we pulled with all of our property was unloaded and we were transferred to a bus that was crammed full of nearly fifty prisoners in hard plastic seats that were hardly big enough to fit a child, let alone full grown (and some over grown) men. I had the "privilege" of being put in a high security cage with another prisoner simply because there were no other seats. This cage was barely thirty-four inches wide and the other prisoner and I could not even sit shoulder to shoulder because the box was too tight. Somehow I managed to keep my claustrophobia at bay for the more than an hour and a half we were in this cage.
We drove to another central location where we were again transferred to a different bus and sat waiting for more than an hour before we left. We were given another bagged lunch with two cheese sandwiches, an apple, and a boxed juice.
We, and dozens of other prisoners who joined us, were driven on winding country roads to be dropped off at five different prisons. Again, the seats were very cramped and the belly chains and shackles restricted movement making finding a comfortable position impossible. The trip was long, hot, and highly uncomfortable, but finally about 4PM we arrived at our destination, only just over an hour's drive away from where we started that morning. Twelve hours of waiting, transferring rides, waiting some more, and making frequent stops finally brought us to our destination where we were released from our belly chains and shackles and again strip searched before being given our housing assignments and sent to medical for our intake processing. Some of us received our property, which had transferred separately, later than night and after doing some unpacking I laid my head on my bed and closed my eyes to sleep, nearly 24 hours after my journey began with a midnight wake up.
My new address is:
Because this program is conducted at a facility in Ionia (MTU) and not at the prison where I had been for the last nearly four years, I had to be transferred. What an experience a prison transfer is!
My day started at midnight when I was woken by my unit officer and told to pack because I was leaving. I had to pack quietly because everyone else in my cube was sleeping, but I managed to do this and then bring my property to the officer. After unpacking to inventory my property with the officer, I repacked and laid back down in my prison blues, my transfer outfit. I couldn't go back to sleep because of the adrenaline and anticipation, but finally around 3:30 AM I fell back asleep, only to be woken again at 4AM and told it was time to leave. I left without saying goodbye to most of the men I had grown to know over the last nearly four years; they were all asleep or in different units.
I and about a dozen other guys went to the control center where we waited for further instructions. At 5AM or so we were given a bag with four pieces of bread, one thin slice of bologna, peanut butter and jelly, an apple, and a cookie and told we needed to eat now if we wanted to eat before lunch. Finally around 6:15AM we began to be strip searched, handcuffed to belly chains, and shackled.
Just after 7AM we were loaded onto a thirteen passenger van, crammed in so tightly several guys were half on, half off the benches. We drove to a central location where the trailer we pulled with all of our property was unloaded and we were transferred to a bus that was crammed full of nearly fifty prisoners in hard plastic seats that were hardly big enough to fit a child, let alone full grown (and some over grown) men. I had the "privilege" of being put in a high security cage with another prisoner simply because there were no other seats. This cage was barely thirty-four inches wide and the other prisoner and I could not even sit shoulder to shoulder because the box was too tight. Somehow I managed to keep my claustrophobia at bay for the more than an hour and a half we were in this cage.
We drove to another central location where we were again transferred to a different bus and sat waiting for more than an hour before we left. We were given another bagged lunch with two cheese sandwiches, an apple, and a boxed juice.
We, and dozens of other prisoners who joined us, were driven on winding country roads to be dropped off at five different prisons. Again, the seats were very cramped and the belly chains and shackles restricted movement making finding a comfortable position impossible. The trip was long, hot, and highly uncomfortable, but finally about 4PM we arrived at our destination, only just over an hour's drive away from where we started that morning. Twelve hours of waiting, transferring rides, waiting some more, and making frequent stops finally brought us to our destination where we were released from our belly chains and shackles and again strip searched before being given our housing assignments and sent to medical for our intake processing. Some of us received our property, which had transferred separately, later than night and after doing some unpacking I laid my head on my bed and closed my eyes to sleep, nearly 24 hours after my journey began with a midnight wake up.
My new address is:
R.A. Handlon Correctional Facility
1728 W. Bluewater Hwy
Ionia, MI 48846
1728 W. Bluewater Hwy
Ionia, MI 48846
Justice for Crime Through Accountability
In his book "The Little Book of Restorative Justice", Howard Zehr defines restorative justice as "an approach that involves, to the extent possible, those who have a stake in a specific offense and to collectively identify and address harms, needs, and obligations, in order to heal and put things as right as possible"
While restorative justice practices do not ignore the judicial consequences of criminal behavior, one of its focuses is on the accountability processes that help each offender understand and take responsibility for the harms he caused.
For the criminal justice system, and the majority of prisoners for that matter, accountability for one's crimes ends in a prison sentence and perhaps some court managed restitution. Society has been duped into believing that this is justice.
Accepting responsibility and accountability for one's crimes goes beyond pleading guilty though. Among other things, it also means focusing on correcting the thinking errors that led the offender to commit his crimes.
For many victims a prison sentence for their offender does little if anything to heal the emotional and psychological harms caused to the victim. For some victims a mediated dialogue between the offender and victim may be beneficial in reducing the victim's fear and anxiety, and it may begin to heal the wounds the offender caused. For other victims, mediated dialogue with their offender may cause more harm than good, but it may be helpful for the victim to know what specifically the offender is doing to hold himself accountable for his behavior. Some victims may even want a voice in this process.
When an offender cannot specifically contribute to helping heal his own victim he can work to help heal those in the category of his offense. I have seen offenders donate hobbycraft items that took hundreds of hours to domestic violence shelters or crisis pregnancy centers. I have also seen offenders with histories of youthful drug abuse work with at risk youth centers to provide literature and personal testimonies to help curb drug abuse in young people.
These are simple examples, but they are an important part of the process of healing for offenders. True restorative justice would involve the victims of crime in this process and contribute to healing for the victims as well.
Until the justice system sees the value of restorative justice practices, offenders must continue to put accountability into practice the best way they know how. Victims who wish to have a voice in the process of what accountability means to their offender can work with a mediation service (who normally provides the service for free) to discover the offender's level of commitment to holding himself accountable and to communicate their wishes to the offender.
Ultimately, whether or not the victim is ever engaged in the process, each offender can begin to heal his harms by holding himself accountable, not by simply doing his time.
What do you think accountability should involve for the offender? (Please provide feedback in your comments.)
While restorative justice practices do not ignore the judicial consequences of criminal behavior, one of its focuses is on the accountability processes that help each offender understand and take responsibility for the harms he caused.
For the criminal justice system, and the majority of prisoners for that matter, accountability for one's crimes ends in a prison sentence and perhaps some court managed restitution. Society has been duped into believing that this is justice.
Accepting responsibility and accountability for one's crimes goes beyond pleading guilty though. Among other things, it also means focusing on correcting the thinking errors that led the offender to commit his crimes.
For many victims a prison sentence for their offender does little if anything to heal the emotional and psychological harms caused to the victim. For some victims a mediated dialogue between the offender and victim may be beneficial in reducing the victim's fear and anxiety, and it may begin to heal the wounds the offender caused. For other victims, mediated dialogue with their offender may cause more harm than good, but it may be helpful for the victim to know what specifically the offender is doing to hold himself accountable for his behavior. Some victims may even want a voice in this process.
When an offender cannot specifically contribute to helping heal his own victim he can work to help heal those in the category of his offense. I have seen offenders donate hobbycraft items that took hundreds of hours to domestic violence shelters or crisis pregnancy centers. I have also seen offenders with histories of youthful drug abuse work with at risk youth centers to provide literature and personal testimonies to help curb drug abuse in young people.
These are simple examples, but they are an important part of the process of healing for offenders. True restorative justice would involve the victims of crime in this process and contribute to healing for the victims as well.
Until the justice system sees the value of restorative justice practices, offenders must continue to put accountability into practice the best way they know how. Victims who wish to have a voice in the process of what accountability means to their offender can work with a mediation service (who normally provides the service for free) to discover the offender's level of commitment to holding himself accountable and to communicate their wishes to the offender.
Ultimately, whether or not the victim is ever engaged in the process, each offender can begin to heal his harms by holding himself accountable, not by simply doing his time.
What do you think accountability should involve for the offender? (Please provide feedback in your comments.)
Wednesday, June 15, 2016
One Act of the Will
I woke up the other day with my hand "asleep", that strange feeling that this appendage at the end of my arm belongs to me but it has no feeling, and the commands sent to it by my brain go unheeded.
As I waited for the blood to again return to my hand and return my hand to my use once more, I thought pensively that this feeling was bit like apathy.
When we fail to exercise our will and simply succumb to the pressures of life, we sometimes lose the ability to force our will to act. We then sit with a confused feeling in our minds like, "I know I should be acting, but no matter how much I know this, nothing happens." Our will becomes like that pathetic appendage at the end of our arm which refuses every instruction sent to it by its master.
Exercising one's will is not a matter of constantly battling that which is outside one's control, as if by simply willing it one can change one's circumstances. No, but willing one's self to surrender these things to God is a matter of operating the will. It is not simply giving up or succumbing to life's burdens, hurts, and disappointments.
Willful surrender is not a submission to things as they are. It is submission to the purposes of God and the hope that God will use our undesirable circumstances to accomplish His purpose in our life.
To arrest the apathy in our will we have to allow ourselves to feel the emotions that we have suppressed in the past in order to avoid the pain. We can feel the hurt, pain, and disappointment and accept the reality of those emotions while still surrendering the circumstances that drive them to God.
Allowing these hurts to fester under the false cover of apathy or denial only increases their septic power over every otherwise healthy part of our life. By allowing these emotions the freedom to flow again we allow ourselves to experience them and then heal from them. This healing process then strengthens our will to act in ways that agree with the hope that we hold in God's purpose for our life.
If I am powerless to do nothing but surrender to God's purpose, this one act of the will makes all the difference between giving up and holding onto hope for a better tomorrow.
As I waited for the blood to again return to my hand and return my hand to my use once more, I thought pensively that this feeling was bit like apathy.
When we fail to exercise our will and simply succumb to the pressures of life, we sometimes lose the ability to force our will to act. We then sit with a confused feeling in our minds like, "I know I should be acting, but no matter how much I know this, nothing happens." Our will becomes like that pathetic appendage at the end of our arm which refuses every instruction sent to it by its master.
Exercising one's will is not a matter of constantly battling that which is outside one's control, as if by simply willing it one can change one's circumstances. No, but willing one's self to surrender these things to God is a matter of operating the will. It is not simply giving up or succumbing to life's burdens, hurts, and disappointments.
Willful surrender is not a submission to things as they are. It is submission to the purposes of God and the hope that God will use our undesirable circumstances to accomplish His purpose in our life.
To arrest the apathy in our will we have to allow ourselves to feel the emotions that we have suppressed in the past in order to avoid the pain. We can feel the hurt, pain, and disappointment and accept the reality of those emotions while still surrendering the circumstances that drive them to God.
Allowing these hurts to fester under the false cover of apathy or denial only increases their septic power over every otherwise healthy part of our life. By allowing these emotions the freedom to flow again we allow ourselves to experience them and then heal from them. This healing process then strengthens our will to act in ways that agree with the hope that we hold in God's purpose for our life.
If I am powerless to do nothing but surrender to God's purpose, this one act of the will makes all the difference between giving up and holding onto hope for a better tomorrow.
Tuesday, June 7, 2016
Excuse Me Officer: Daddy Broke The Law
Sometimes I hear things in prison that make me shake my head in frustration at the stupidity of how they sound.
This morning as I heated some water for tea in the microwave in the dayroom a news story on the T.V. caught my ear and the ears of several other prisoners. It was a story of a little six year old boy who called 911 to report to the police that his father had driven through a red light. The story was cute because the boy was innocently responding to what his father had taught him--call the police if you see someone breaking the law.
What struck me was the reaction of two prisoners who on hearing this story immediately said, "That kid's a rat! He would definitely be a rat in prison!"
It's true that in prison the "code" says that you mind your own business and stay out of other people's business. In prison keeping that code could mean the difference between life and death. But to immediately conclude that law abiding citizens should turn a blind eye to crime just shows the criminal mentality many in prison operate under.
For sure, some prisoners talk the code because they think it makes them look "hard", but as soon as it is convenient to save their own skin that code gets tossed to the wayside. Some prisoners don't even need an excuse to tell someone else's business, but let them tell it and they hate rats.
This criminal mentality, that crime should be allowed to go on unchecked by those who suffer from it, is illogical, and it contradicts the actions of those who operate under this criminal thinking. If one of these criminally minded people is harmed himself he will not stand idly by; instead, he will take justice into his own hands, rally his friends to enact justice, or yes, he will report the harm to the authorities.
Maybe the little boy calling the police on his father is a little extreme, but we should not be surprised when law abiding citizens report crime. That's their civic duty and the morally right thing to do. Those who commit crime should be held accountable for their behavior, and accountability is one of the foundational principles of restorative justice practices.
This morning as I heated some water for tea in the microwave in the dayroom a news story on the T.V. caught my ear and the ears of several other prisoners. It was a story of a little six year old boy who called 911 to report to the police that his father had driven through a red light. The story was cute because the boy was innocently responding to what his father had taught him--call the police if you see someone breaking the law.
What struck me was the reaction of two prisoners who on hearing this story immediately said, "That kid's a rat! He would definitely be a rat in prison!"
It's true that in prison the "code" says that you mind your own business and stay out of other people's business. In prison keeping that code could mean the difference between life and death. But to immediately conclude that law abiding citizens should turn a blind eye to crime just shows the criminal mentality many in prison operate under.
For sure, some prisoners talk the code because they think it makes them look "hard", but as soon as it is convenient to save their own skin that code gets tossed to the wayside. Some prisoners don't even need an excuse to tell someone else's business, but let them tell it and they hate rats.
This criminal mentality, that crime should be allowed to go on unchecked by those who suffer from it, is illogical, and it contradicts the actions of those who operate under this criminal thinking. If one of these criminally minded people is harmed himself he will not stand idly by; instead, he will take justice into his own hands, rally his friends to enact justice, or yes, he will report the harm to the authorities.
Maybe the little boy calling the police on his father is a little extreme, but we should not be surprised when law abiding citizens report crime. That's their civic duty and the morally right thing to do. Those who commit crime should be held accountable for their behavior, and accountability is one of the foundational principles of restorative justice practices.
Thursday, May 26, 2016
Don't Fear the Change
Prisoners face a lot of obstacles when it comes to changing their patterns of criminal thinking. External obstacles include lack of education; lack of access to proper guidance or therapy; lack of funds, employment, or opportunity; and cultural expectations and influences, among others. Internal obstacles include apathy and lack of desire, unresolved anger and childhood trauma, neurologically entrenched addiction issues, and fear of change.
These lists of obstacles are not exhaustive, but they begin to paint a picture of the complexity of changing a criminal's faulty thinking patterns.
For a prisoner to really change he must want it. He must see the banality of his current path, and he must actively seek to change. But with so many obstacles where does one begin?
Fear of change is profound for anyone: the business executive taking a new job in another state; a student heading to college for the first time; the newly single middle-ager; and the criminal changing everything he has known his whole life.
Most criminals have a pattern for facing what they fear: run, or hide behind a false sense of security (guns, gangs, or drugs for instance). Learned patterns of behavior are difficult to change.
Let's be honest: change is difficult for anyone, because change always comes with a chance for failure. Something may go wrong. And the familiar is easier to deal with than taking a chance at something new.
Perhaps that is why Michigan's prison administration and lawmakers are so reluctant to change what is obviously not working in Michigan's prison system. The old patterns of thinking that pushed for longer prison sentences, less education and opportunities in prison and on release, and the militant objections to restorative justice practices have got to change. But change takes courage and those who hold to old-school ideas of criminal justice are no different than the criminal who lets fear keep him from changing.
Albert Einstein said that doing the same thing over and over again while expecting different results is insanity. So, if the criminal wants something different from his chaotic life he must be willing to change his thinking and behavior; and if Michigan wants less crime, fewer repeat offenders, and healing for crime victims it must be willing to change the policies that have failed the public, the victims of crimes, and the prisoners for whom it is responsible.
These lists of obstacles are not exhaustive, but they begin to paint a picture of the complexity of changing a criminal's faulty thinking patterns.
For a prisoner to really change he must want it. He must see the banality of his current path, and he must actively seek to change. But with so many obstacles where does one begin?
Fear of change is profound for anyone: the business executive taking a new job in another state; a student heading to college for the first time; the newly single middle-ager; and the criminal changing everything he has known his whole life.
Most criminals have a pattern for facing what they fear: run, or hide behind a false sense of security (guns, gangs, or drugs for instance). Learned patterns of behavior are difficult to change.
Let's be honest: change is difficult for anyone, because change always comes with a chance for failure. Something may go wrong. And the familiar is easier to deal with than taking a chance at something new.
Perhaps that is why Michigan's prison administration and lawmakers are so reluctant to change what is obviously not working in Michigan's prison system. The old patterns of thinking that pushed for longer prison sentences, less education and opportunities in prison and on release, and the militant objections to restorative justice practices have got to change. But change takes courage and those who hold to old-school ideas of criminal justice are no different than the criminal who lets fear keep him from changing.
Albert Einstein said that doing the same thing over and over again while expecting different results is insanity. So, if the criminal wants something different from his chaotic life he must be willing to change his thinking and behavior; and if Michigan wants less crime, fewer repeat offenders, and healing for crime victims it must be willing to change the policies that have failed the public, the victims of crimes, and the prisoners for whom it is responsible.
Sunday, May 8, 2016
Happy Mother's Day Moms of Prisoners
For many prisoners the one person whom they can count on to still care about them is Mom. Even though seeing her son go to prison must be extremely painful for any mom, and even though the crimes her son committed may cause others to hate him, Mom loves even through the ugliest parts of her son's life.
To many men in prison Mom means home and a place to belong. She means a person to make proud again who still believes in her son when everyone else has given up on him or written him off.
Mothers, if you have a son in prison you may just well be the lighthouse beacon, the true North that guides your son to get his life right.
From one prisoner son to Mothers of all prisoners: Thank you for still caring.
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!
(I love you Mom!)
To many men in prison Mom means home and a place to belong. She means a person to make proud again who still believes in her son when everyone else has given up on him or written him off.
Mothers, if you have a son in prison you may just well be the lighthouse beacon, the true North that guides your son to get his life right.
From one prisoner son to Mothers of all prisoners: Thank you for still caring.
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!
(I love you Mom!)
Tuesday, May 3, 2016
Freedom is Precious to Those Who Struggle For It
In 1776 American Revolutionary Thomas Paine wrote in his book The American Crisis, 'The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly.'
Of course, Paine was talking about the struggle for independence in early America from a tyrannical government. But the truth of his words rang true in my ears as it applies to freedom in general. Those who have never had to struggle for freedom lightly esteem it when they have it. Those who have lost their freedom, if they are taught by the difficult lesson, will esteem that freedom as precious when it is regained.
Prisoners who serve their time and are released are rarely restored by society or their communities into full citizenship again. Even after release from prison, convicted felons are branded with a scarlet letter of shame intended to remind them of their separateness from the rest of the community. Some felons identify with this branding and carry about the weight of their shame, never truly engaging with the community or triumphing over their shame.
Others, recognizing the possibilities of redemption, face the struggle with confidence and triumph in the end.
I don't expect that life will be easy when I am released from prison, but I know that even when the struggle is hard, the triumph of redemption will be of that much greater value.
Of course, Paine was talking about the struggle for independence in early America from a tyrannical government. But the truth of his words rang true in my ears as it applies to freedom in general. Those who have never had to struggle for freedom lightly esteem it when they have it. Those who have lost their freedom, if they are taught by the difficult lesson, will esteem that freedom as precious when it is regained.
Prisoners who serve their time and are released are rarely restored by society or their communities into full citizenship again. Even after release from prison, convicted felons are branded with a scarlet letter of shame intended to remind them of their separateness from the rest of the community. Some felons identify with this branding and carry about the weight of their shame, never truly engaging with the community or triumphing over their shame.
Others, recognizing the possibilities of redemption, face the struggle with confidence and triumph in the end.
I don't expect that life will be easy when I am released from prison, but I know that even when the struggle is hard, the triumph of redemption will be of that much greater value.
Saturday, April 23, 2016
Powerless Because of Crime
I remember as a child coming home from a camping trip when we lived in Southern California to discover our home had been burglarized. I remember how powerless my parent's felt and even we kids were affected by the crime.
Whether the crime is a break-in, a robbery, an assault, or nearly any other crime, the victim ends up feeling powerless and the criminal justice process does little to restore power to the victim. Instead, the process is designed to punish an offender for breaking a law, while it largely ignores empowering the victim with a voice in the outcome.
Offenders also experience powerlessness in prison as they become completely dependent on others, whether it is family and friends or the state. Prison itself promotes a learned helplessness and dependency rather than promoting responsibility, independence, and accountability.
Prisoners must take initiative to develop for themselves the responsibility that independence and accountability require. This means learning to manage finances and time wisely, taking an active role in taking classes offered by the prisons or through educational programs, and most importantly beginning to repair the broken relationships caused by one's crimes.
The very nature of crime and prison creates a wake of powerlessness, but if offenders are to become a part of the process that returns power to their victims, they must begin by taking responsibility for themselves.
Whether the crime is a break-in, a robbery, an assault, or nearly any other crime, the victim ends up feeling powerless and the criminal justice process does little to restore power to the victim. Instead, the process is designed to punish an offender for breaking a law, while it largely ignores empowering the victim with a voice in the outcome.
Offenders also experience powerlessness in prison as they become completely dependent on others, whether it is family and friends or the state. Prison itself promotes a learned helplessness and dependency rather than promoting responsibility, independence, and accountability.
Prisoners must take initiative to develop for themselves the responsibility that independence and accountability require. This means learning to manage finances and time wisely, taking an active role in taking classes offered by the prisons or through educational programs, and most importantly beginning to repair the broken relationships caused by one's crimes.
The very nature of crime and prison creates a wake of powerlessness, but if offenders are to become a part of the process that returns power to their victims, they must begin by taking responsibility for themselves.
If I hear one more complaint...
I just came back from lunch in the chow hall at the prison in which I am housed. Now, let me first state that meal time in prison is nothing to look forward to, but most days, if one is willing to eat what he is given, he will not leave hungry. The food is not great, or even good most of the time, but at least it is something to eat.
While I sat at chow eating my White Castle-sized single hamburger, a guy at my table complained non-stop. The burger was a joke. The potato salad had too many onions and celery. Here we go again with the beans. And why would the Warden and food service supervisor show up on one of the better meals and not one of the crappy meals? My first thought was that will all the complaining on a "better" meal, I would hate to hear what he had to say about a worse meal.
My second thought was that prisoners are often very ungrateful. Every day, from my first encounter with other inmates in the early morning while brushing my teeth, to my last interaction at night before bed, I hear non-stop complaining. It is no wonder the prison officials do not take legitimate complaints seriously.
I wonder if I heard this much complaining before coming to prison? Sure, everyone has something in their lives they would like to see be different, but I have never been surrounded by people with such a negative outlook on life until I came to prison. It's very draining.
This year, I purposed to work on developing a grateful attitude, even in prison, so maybe that makes me more sensitive to the incessant complaining I hear around me.
I do not want to be miserable all my life, and since I can not change my circumstances, the only thing I can change is my attitude. It is not easy when so much seems to go wrong, but by keeping a positive attitude and being grateful when I feel like complaining, I find myself so much more peaceful.
Try to catch yourself complaining today and instead of voicing that complaint, look for something for which to express gratefulness. It is all a matter of perspective.
For me, I am very grateful for such a beautiful, sunny day that makes it easier for me to walk off my lunch and give me an appetite for another meal tonight.
While I sat at chow eating my White Castle-sized single hamburger, a guy at my table complained non-stop. The burger was a joke. The potato salad had too many onions and celery. Here we go again with the beans. And why would the Warden and food service supervisor show up on one of the better meals and not one of the crappy meals? My first thought was that will all the complaining on a "better" meal, I would hate to hear what he had to say about a worse meal.
My second thought was that prisoners are often very ungrateful. Every day, from my first encounter with other inmates in the early morning while brushing my teeth, to my last interaction at night before bed, I hear non-stop complaining. It is no wonder the prison officials do not take legitimate complaints seriously.
I wonder if I heard this much complaining before coming to prison? Sure, everyone has something in their lives they would like to see be different, but I have never been surrounded by people with such a negative outlook on life until I came to prison. It's very draining.
This year, I purposed to work on developing a grateful attitude, even in prison, so maybe that makes me more sensitive to the incessant complaining I hear around me.
I do not want to be miserable all my life, and since I can not change my circumstances, the only thing I can change is my attitude. It is not easy when so much seems to go wrong, but by keeping a positive attitude and being grateful when I feel like complaining, I find myself so much more peaceful.
Try to catch yourself complaining today and instead of voicing that complaint, look for something for which to express gratefulness. It is all a matter of perspective.
For me, I am very grateful for such a beautiful, sunny day that makes it easier for me to walk off my lunch and give me an appetite for another meal tonight.
Tuesday, April 12, 2016
White Man Can't Jump
Four weeks ago I injured myself trying to box jump onto a concrete pad. I walked, rather briskly, to medical after busting my shins open to where my legs were pouring blood.
For the first time since I have been in prison I had a positive experience with the medical care I received. The nurses were quick to provide medical care, and they did it while treating me with the respect of a human being (after they stopped laughing and joking about my clumsy attempt to jump!) I was patched up and received four stitches in one leg and had the other leg bandaged. The doctor who stitched me up onsite told me I would be called out in two weeks to medical to have my stitches removed and my wounds observed.
I was encouraged by the treatment I received until after sixteen days I still had not been called to have my stitches removed. I sent a kite to medical asking what happened and five days later I was finally called to medical. When the nurse asked me why, three weeks later, I still had my stitches in, I told her the doctor said he'd schedule me to have them removed. The nurse's response? "Oh, and you believed him?!"
As the nurse reopened my wound so she could remove the now deeply scabbed over stitches, she asked if I had used antibiotic cream. I told her I had asked the doctor about if I should and he had told me it wasn't necessary. The nurse disagreed.
Such is the quality of our medical care in prison.
I am still healing and I expect I won't have a career as a leg model, or as anything that requires me to leap higher than the height of my own knees - because this white man clearly can't jump!
For the first time since I have been in prison I had a positive experience with the medical care I received. The nurses were quick to provide medical care, and they did it while treating me with the respect of a human being (after they stopped laughing and joking about my clumsy attempt to jump!) I was patched up and received four stitches in one leg and had the other leg bandaged. The doctor who stitched me up onsite told me I would be called out in two weeks to medical to have my stitches removed and my wounds observed.
I was encouraged by the treatment I received until after sixteen days I still had not been called to have my stitches removed. I sent a kite to medical asking what happened and five days later I was finally called to medical. When the nurse asked me why, three weeks later, I still had my stitches in, I told her the doctor said he'd schedule me to have them removed. The nurse's response? "Oh, and you believed him?!"
As the nurse reopened my wound so she could remove the now deeply scabbed over stitches, she asked if I had used antibiotic cream. I told her I had asked the doctor about if I should and he had told me it wasn't necessary. The nurse disagreed.
Such is the quality of our medical care in prison.
I am still healing and I expect I won't have a career as a leg model, or as anything that requires me to leap higher than the height of my own knees - because this white man clearly can't jump!