Every year in Michigan's prisons, a "special" menu is put out for major holidays, including Christmas. The menu is different than the normal chow hall fare--this year the hot dog and beans meal was replaced by the Christmas dinner. The holiday menu included a 4-ounce slice of turkey loaf (think soft turkey roll), 2 ounces of cranberry sauce, cheesy mashed potatoes, green beans, two slices of bread with butter, and a small pumpkin pie square for dessert.
While this food is somewhat different than normal (especially the cranberry sauce, which is served only twice a year), many men in prison prefer to cook their own holiday feast. In my particular housing unit, 240 men are housed, two people per room. The day room, which has seats for 60 people, also has the only microwaves in the unit--three for 240 people. Holiday cook-ups are not your normal ramen noodle fare though. These are large and complicated menus featuring 1.6 qt. bowls, or homemade cardboard boxes, filled to overflowing with rice, noodles, meat sticks, chili, cheese, chips, pickles, jalapeno peppers, and a host of other possible ingredients in myriad combinations. Some men get especially creative, making lasagna, tuna casserole, tortilla wraps, or other recipes, often developed and passed down from prisoner to prisoner.
The day room opens at 5:30 AM, and the microwaves remain busy the entire time the unit is open on holidays. Some of the more complicated cook-ups include six to ten men and take more than an hour or two to make. The more courteous men clean up after themselves, while others leave the mess they make for someone else to clean up. Other men, who may not be able to afford the costly ingredients to make their own cook-up, gather around the microwaves, waiting sometimes more than 30 minutes to simply heat water for a cup of coffee or tea. There are two hotpots in the unit, but the steady stream of prisoners using them, frequently to fill cups or bowls they take right to the microwave, means the water in the pots is often not hot enough for a cup of coffee or tea.
This year, I made a special Christmas cook-up, but not on Christmas. I chose a different day to make two "deep dish pizzas," out of pizza crust kits layered with pasta sauce, spreadable cheese, meat sticks, jalapeno peppers, and tortilla shells, to share with a friend. The break from prison chow hall food is nice, but even nicer is the opportunity to share a few moments of fellowship around food with a friend. Of course, in prison it's impossible to get a moment of peace, so we no sooner sat down than our table was surrounded by men who wanted to try our small creation. Our pizzas several bites smaller now, my friend and I still enjoyed each other's company, along with the company of several other uninvited, but friendly, men. After all, even in prison, food is always a good reason to get together with others.
Wednesday, December 27, 2017
Sunday, December 24, 2017
Peaceful Wishes for Christmas
Christmas is often about joy and peace, and it will forever sadden me that I was the cause of broken peace and stolen joy. So, on this Christmas, I wish those I harmed and all other victims of crime a holiday filled with joy and peace. May God give you the gift of healing.
Merry Christmas!
Merry Christmas!
Monday, December 18, 2017
Remembering the Forgotten
By guest poster Bryan Harr (#241912)
In December of 2016, I saw a story on FOX 14 News that touched my heart. One of the caregivers at St. Ann's Home in Grand Rapids, Michigan had posted a comment online about how disheartening it was to watch one of their residents go without any kind of holiday mail. The comment was liked and shared, and St Ann's was soon flooded with mail addressed to the woman. The overwhelming response was reported by FOX 14 News who also mentioned that there were other residents at the facility that rarely received mail, and that St Ann's would welcome letters and cards for them as well.
A friend of mine told me he thought St. Ann's was a small facility that provided care for approximately fifteen people. Based on that misinformation, I wrote a letter to St. Ann's committing to provide each of their residents with a handmade Christmas card each year. One of the facilitators, Sister Gabriela, sent an enthusiastic reply informing me that they had 150 residents at St. Ann's. I admit being completely unprepared for such a number, but I still wanted to honor the commitment I had made--even if I was unsure how.
Soon after, I was admitted into the Calvin Prison Initiative--a joint venture between Calvin College and the Michigan Department of Corrections that offers a select group of prisoners, at Ionia's Handlon Correctional Facility, the opportunity to earn a bachelor's degree in Ministry Leadership. The graduates of this program are meant to use their education to positively influence prison culture. However, even as students, many have begun to look for opportunities to make a difference in the community today. And it is with thanks to those individuals that I was able to honor this year's commitment to St. Ann's. CPI freshmen, sophomores, and juniors alike came together to donate their time and talents to the "Remember the Forgotten" card project, and the result of more than 600 volunteer hours was 150 handmade cards that will be delivered to St. Ann's Life Enrichment Director, Gregg Sanborn, the week of December 17th.
My fellow students have fully embraced "Remember the Forgotten" as an annual responsibility, and many of them are excited to expand the project to include other facilities such as hospitals and shelters. They realize that they can make a difference--even by an act as simple as gifting a card to someone who may otherwise be forgotten.
In December of 2016, I saw a story on FOX 14 News that touched my heart. One of the caregivers at St. Ann's Home in Grand Rapids, Michigan had posted a comment online about how disheartening it was to watch one of their residents go without any kind of holiday mail. The comment was liked and shared, and St Ann's was soon flooded with mail addressed to the woman. The overwhelming response was reported by FOX 14 News who also mentioned that there were other residents at the facility that rarely received mail, and that St Ann's would welcome letters and cards for them as well.
A friend of mine told me he thought St. Ann's was a small facility that provided care for approximately fifteen people. Based on that misinformation, I wrote a letter to St. Ann's committing to provide each of their residents with a handmade Christmas card each year. One of the facilitators, Sister Gabriela, sent an enthusiastic reply informing me that they had 150 residents at St. Ann's. I admit being completely unprepared for such a number, but I still wanted to honor the commitment I had made--even if I was unsure how.
Soon after, I was admitted into the Calvin Prison Initiative--a joint venture between Calvin College and the Michigan Department of Corrections that offers a select group of prisoners, at Ionia's Handlon Correctional Facility, the opportunity to earn a bachelor's degree in Ministry Leadership. The graduates of this program are meant to use their education to positively influence prison culture. However, even as students, many have begun to look for opportunities to make a difference in the community today. And it is with thanks to those individuals that I was able to honor this year's commitment to St. Ann's. CPI freshmen, sophomores, and juniors alike came together to donate their time and talents to the "Remember the Forgotten" card project, and the result of more than 600 volunteer hours was 150 handmade cards that will be delivered to St. Ann's Life Enrichment Director, Gregg Sanborn, the week of December 17th.
My fellow students have fully embraced "Remember the Forgotten" as an annual responsibility, and many of them are excited to expand the project to include other facilities such as hospitals and shelters. They realize that they can make a difference--even by an act as simple as gifting a card to someone who may otherwise be forgotten.
Tuesday, December 12, 2017
Sleep Deprivation in Prison?
If you had asked me before I came to prison if I thought prisoners got enough sleep, I'd have guessed that prisoners have little else to do but sleep. And yet, after more than eight years in prison, I am astounded by how many prisoners suffer from sleep deprivation.
My first experience with the torturous sleep deprivation of incarceration occurred in the county jail. Everything in jail and prison is regimented, so one would think that sleep would be easy to come by. It is true, after all, that those in the county (especially) and many in prison have little else to do. Yet, I found that in every jail pod and every prison. unit "security lights" are left on all night to ensure the guards can see the prisoners. These security lights are sometimes diminished from the daytime full brightness, but not always. In jail daytime lights are turned on at 6 AM and left on until 10 PM. Most prisons do the same. When prisoners try to cover their heads to block out the light, they are often awoken by deputies (in jail) or guards (in prison) who insist on seeing the prisoners' faces while doing their rounds for "security reasons." Yet, some guards go out of their way to make a prisoner's time as miserable as possible, often waking prisoners unnecessarily.
I remember within days of being in the county jail, I was sound asleep when around 2 AM a deputy banged his flashlight loudly on my cell bars, startling me into a frightened wakefulness. "Yeah?!" I hollered at him. "Okay. I just wanted to make sure you were alive," he responded. "Of course I'm alive," I replied irritably. "It's in the middle of the night, and I WAS sleeping!" He didn't care. This officer had a reputation for his humiliating treatment of prisoners. He had his fun and moved on, and I laid there with my heart racing from being startled, nursing my anger and hardly able to fall back asleep. This was a regular occurrence, if not to me, then to others in my pod. Either way, most of the pod woke up when a deputy decided to deprive someone of his sleep.
Now, in prison the guards will turn on room lights in the middle of the night to do their count rounds, despite having flashlights to look in the cells. They will still use the flashlights though, often shining them right in a prisoner's face until he is disturbed enough in his sleep to move. I understand that people die in their sleep, sometimes from self-inflicted wounds, but this occurs very rarely and does not precipitate the torturous methods used to deprive prisoners of their sleep on a regular basis
Prison is itself a punishment, but people are sent to prison as punishment, not for punishment. Sleep deprivation techniques such as those used in jails and prisons are just another dehumanizing tool that deputies and guards use to remind prisoners of their power over them. And I'm tired of it...literally.
My first experience with the torturous sleep deprivation of incarceration occurred in the county jail. Everything in jail and prison is regimented, so one would think that sleep would be easy to come by. It is true, after all, that those in the county (especially) and many in prison have little else to do. Yet, I found that in every jail pod and every prison. unit "security lights" are left on all night to ensure the guards can see the prisoners. These security lights are sometimes diminished from the daytime full brightness, but not always. In jail daytime lights are turned on at 6 AM and left on until 10 PM. Most prisons do the same. When prisoners try to cover their heads to block out the light, they are often awoken by deputies (in jail) or guards (in prison) who insist on seeing the prisoners' faces while doing their rounds for "security reasons." Yet, some guards go out of their way to make a prisoner's time as miserable as possible, often waking prisoners unnecessarily.
I remember within days of being in the county jail, I was sound asleep when around 2 AM a deputy banged his flashlight loudly on my cell bars, startling me into a frightened wakefulness. "Yeah?!" I hollered at him. "Okay. I just wanted to make sure you were alive," he responded. "Of course I'm alive," I replied irritably. "It's in the middle of the night, and I WAS sleeping!" He didn't care. This officer had a reputation for his humiliating treatment of prisoners. He had his fun and moved on, and I laid there with my heart racing from being startled, nursing my anger and hardly able to fall back asleep. This was a regular occurrence, if not to me, then to others in my pod. Either way, most of the pod woke up when a deputy decided to deprive someone of his sleep.
Now, in prison the guards will turn on room lights in the middle of the night to do their count rounds, despite having flashlights to look in the cells. They will still use the flashlights though, often shining them right in a prisoner's face until he is disturbed enough in his sleep to move. I understand that people die in their sleep, sometimes from self-inflicted wounds, but this occurs very rarely and does not precipitate the torturous methods used to deprive prisoners of their sleep on a regular basis
Prison is itself a punishment, but people are sent to prison as punishment, not for punishment. Sleep deprivation techniques such as those used in jails and prisons are just another dehumanizing tool that deputies and guards use to remind prisoners of their power over them. And I'm tired of it...literally.
Thursday, December 7, 2017
The Philosophy of a Reluctant Leader
In the same leadership class I wrote about last week, we were asked to write a final paper reflecting on leadership. I titled my paper, "The Philosophy of a Reluctant Leader" because throughout my life I have often been in leadership positions, but I find myself much more reluctant to volunteer for such positions today. I have a personality that lends itself to natural leadership, and my aspirations in the past have meant that I would pursue leadership opportunities. But after my precipitous fall from grace that led me to prison, I realized the devastation of my fall was multiplied by the negative impact it had on those who I had been leading. And so I became a reluctant leader.
Effective leadership requires two things: high competency and good character. One may have high competence and bad character and be a terrible leader. One may also have good character but lack competence, and, therefore, good leadership skills. Both are required for effective leadership. In the leadership positions I was in before coming to prison, I believe I was a competent leader, but I lacked the good character necessary to be an effective leader, and other people suffered for it when I came to prison. Today, I find myself reluctant to volunteer myself for leadership roles because of my knowledge that my past failures multiplied the damage I caused.
I also find myself somewhat reluctant to lead because two more qualifications of effective leadership are humility and vulnerability. Coming to prison has done a fine job of humbling me (it still is), but vulnerability is hard! Vulnerability requires a certain level of trust, and the longer I spend in prison, the more and more difficult I find it is to trust others. Yet, I know that vulnerability is necessary if I am to use my experiences, failures and successes, to help others heal, to help others avoid the same damaging choices I made. As author Henri Nouwen said in his book on Christian leadership, In the Name of Jesus, "the Christian leader of the future is called to be completely irrelevant and to stand in this world with nothing to offer but his or her own vulnerable self." I know I don't have much else to offer at this point.
My past failures might not disqualify me for some future leadership roles, but I know that effective leadership means having good character, so now I find myself pursuing good character rather than positions of leadership. I believe that leadership roles I am equipped for will naturally follow if I am properly prepared. And if they don't, I'm okay with that now. I no longer feel the need to be a leader, at least for the same reasons I had in the past.
Effective leadership requires two things: high competency and good character. One may have high competence and bad character and be a terrible leader. One may also have good character but lack competence, and, therefore, good leadership skills. Both are required for effective leadership. In the leadership positions I was in before coming to prison, I believe I was a competent leader, but I lacked the good character necessary to be an effective leader, and other people suffered for it when I came to prison. Today, I find myself reluctant to volunteer myself for leadership roles because of my knowledge that my past failures multiplied the damage I caused.
I also find myself somewhat reluctant to lead because two more qualifications of effective leadership are humility and vulnerability. Coming to prison has done a fine job of humbling me (it still is), but vulnerability is hard! Vulnerability requires a certain level of trust, and the longer I spend in prison, the more and more difficult I find it is to trust others. Yet, I know that vulnerability is necessary if I am to use my experiences, failures and successes, to help others heal, to help others avoid the same damaging choices I made. As author Henri Nouwen said in his book on Christian leadership, In the Name of Jesus, "the Christian leader of the future is called to be completely irrelevant and to stand in this world with nothing to offer but his or her own vulnerable self." I know I don't have much else to offer at this point.
My past failures might not disqualify me for some future leadership roles, but I know that effective leadership means having good character, so now I find myself pursuing good character rather than positions of leadership. I believe that leadership roles I am equipped for will naturally follow if I am properly prepared. And if they don't, I'm okay with that now. I no longer feel the need to be a leader, at least for the same reasons I had in the past.
Wednesday, November 29, 2017
Identity Precedes Activity
I took a Ministry Leadership course through Calvin College this semester in the Calvin Prison Initiative. During our first class, Professor Kathy Smith made the statement, "Identity precedes activity." This statement struck me forcefully because of the applicability to every man and woman in prison.
While Professor Smith was referring to the formation of leaders, I was impressed with the notion that most of us in prison are here because our activity flowed directly from how we viewed ourselves. We had formed identities in our own minds, right or wrong, that reinforced behaviors that led us to prison. These identities may have included feelings of worthlessness or over-inflated egos, abusive pasts or histories of codependency; they may have been based on the belief that money or power were necessary for significance, or founded on delusions of grandeur or feelings of hopelessness.
To commit our crimes, many of us had to believe ourselves to be invincible. This misconception of invincibility is a failure to deal only with the truth. According to author Max De Spree, "The first responsibility of a leader is to define reality" (11). The problem for many prisoners is that reality, as it is, is difficult to bear, so it is easier to manufacture a fantasy world to dwell in. Ending up in prison often does not help prisoners to gain a clear understanding of their identities. Prison only casts a deeper shadow on what is already a difficult thing to define. Dealing only with the truth, about ourselves, our crime, and the harms we have done to others, is a great start for those who choose to define reality with truth.
If identity precedes activity, those who have committed crimes must learn how to properly see themselves before they can begin to behave in healthy ways. One doesn't have to be a leader to form a healthy identity that leads to productive behaviors. Prisoners simply need to learn that regardless of past mistakes, we have dignity as human beings and can go on to be valued by our communities. Perhaps then we can go on to be transformative leaders who help others avoid the same destructive choices we made that led us to prison in the first place.
Source Cited: De Spree, Max, Leadership is an Art, NY: Dell Publishing, 1989.
While Professor Smith was referring to the formation of leaders, I was impressed with the notion that most of us in prison are here because our activity flowed directly from how we viewed ourselves. We had formed identities in our own minds, right or wrong, that reinforced behaviors that led us to prison. These identities may have included feelings of worthlessness or over-inflated egos, abusive pasts or histories of codependency; they may have been based on the belief that money or power were necessary for significance, or founded on delusions of grandeur or feelings of hopelessness.
To commit our crimes, many of us had to believe ourselves to be invincible. This misconception of invincibility is a failure to deal only with the truth. According to author Max De Spree, "The first responsibility of a leader is to define reality" (11). The problem for many prisoners is that reality, as it is, is difficult to bear, so it is easier to manufacture a fantasy world to dwell in. Ending up in prison often does not help prisoners to gain a clear understanding of their identities. Prison only casts a deeper shadow on what is already a difficult thing to define. Dealing only with the truth, about ourselves, our crime, and the harms we have done to others, is a great start for those who choose to define reality with truth.
If identity precedes activity, those who have committed crimes must learn how to properly see themselves before they can begin to behave in healthy ways. One doesn't have to be a leader to form a healthy identity that leads to productive behaviors. Prisoners simply need to learn that regardless of past mistakes, we have dignity as human beings and can go on to be valued by our communities. Perhaps then we can go on to be transformative leaders who help others avoid the same destructive choices we made that led us to prison in the first place.
Source Cited: De Spree, Max, Leadership is an Art, NY: Dell Publishing, 1989.
Tuesday, November 21, 2017
All Victims Matter
The recent barrage of sexual misconduct allegations surfacing is disturbing, especially because they demonstrate a culture of sexual abuse and harassment that has gone on unchecked for decades or longer. Revelations about movie directors Harvey Weinstein and James Toback, actor Kevin Spacey, and politicians All Franken and Roy Moore (to name just several recently accused) go back decades in some cases and involve dozens of victims.
If these allegations are true, it is easy to wonder why some victims have not come forward earlier, but it is not our place to question why they didn't have the courage or ability to do so before now. What we ought to do is applaud their courage now, and celebrate the strength many have found to finally face the demons that have haunted them for years. The public has largely rallied around these victims in our collective disgust at such abhorrent behavior.
What bothers me the most, though, is that it took famous victims for the public to be outraged. Every victim, famous or not, has the same value and ought to spark the same level of outrage when they are sexually abused. There is a certain added value celebrity gives to exposing the harms these victims of sexual assault and abuse experienced, but let's not ignore the victims who don't have a national stage on which to use their experiences for healing. Instead, let's rally around those who have experienced sexual abuse or harassment in any form. And let's not wait until we see newspapers covered in salacious ink about sexual abuse allegations or hear news commentators give in-depth coverage of these sensational stories before we speak up. When we see harassment in any form, let's say something. When we hear inappropriate jokes meant to demean, let's call the joker out. Let's hold others accountable for the bad behavior we see rather than turn a blind eye in hopes that our perceptions are wrong or that we are being too sensitive. Doing so may prevent future abuse from happening and save other potential victims.
We don't need to simply be consumers of sensational news. We can become a part of the solution by addressing these problems right where we are; no place in America is immune to the problem of sexual harassment and abuse. We can begin by refusing to support television and movies that turn abuse into entertainment and by becoming advocates for victims. Let's stop being simply consumers of titillating stories that raise our ire but nothing more and begin being voices for justice that restores victims, holds offenders accountable, and seeks to heal wounds and prevent future abuse.
(Please visit Women At Risk (WAR) International to find out how you can advocate for victims of sexual abuse and exploitation.) Women at Risk (WAR) International
If these allegations are true, it is easy to wonder why some victims have not come forward earlier, but it is not our place to question why they didn't have the courage or ability to do so before now. What we ought to do is applaud their courage now, and celebrate the strength many have found to finally face the demons that have haunted them for years. The public has largely rallied around these victims in our collective disgust at such abhorrent behavior.
What bothers me the most, though, is that it took famous victims for the public to be outraged. Every victim, famous or not, has the same value and ought to spark the same level of outrage when they are sexually abused. There is a certain added value celebrity gives to exposing the harms these victims of sexual assault and abuse experienced, but let's not ignore the victims who don't have a national stage on which to use their experiences for healing. Instead, let's rally around those who have experienced sexual abuse or harassment in any form. And let's not wait until we see newspapers covered in salacious ink about sexual abuse allegations or hear news commentators give in-depth coverage of these sensational stories before we speak up. When we see harassment in any form, let's say something. When we hear inappropriate jokes meant to demean, let's call the joker out. Let's hold others accountable for the bad behavior we see rather than turn a blind eye in hopes that our perceptions are wrong or that we are being too sensitive. Doing so may prevent future abuse from happening and save other potential victims.
We don't need to simply be consumers of sensational news. We can become a part of the solution by addressing these problems right where we are; no place in America is immune to the problem of sexual harassment and abuse. We can begin by refusing to support television and movies that turn abuse into entertainment and by becoming advocates for victims. Let's stop being simply consumers of titillating stories that raise our ire but nothing more and begin being voices for justice that restores victims, holds offenders accountable, and seeks to heal wounds and prevent future abuse.
(Please visit Women At Risk (WAR) International to find out how you can advocate for victims of sexual abuse and exploitation.) Women at Risk (WAR) International
Thursday, November 16, 2017
An Eye for an Eye and a Fork for a Fork
Someone recently sent me a rather humorous article titled, "An Eye for an Eye and a Fork for a Fork Never Ends Well." In this article the author, Lori Borgman, recounts an interaction with her 4-year-old granddaughter where the little girl told of a friend who had "forked" her, stabbing her in the shoulder with a fork. She wisely told her "gwamma" that she didn't fork her back because, "I don't pay evil with evil."
I am sure that this precocious 4-year-old doesn't know the history of lex talionis, the ancient formula of retributive justice found in the Babylonian Code of Hammurapi and in Jewish laws in Exodus 21:24, but she certainly knew of the Apostle Paul's interpretation of Jesus' Sermon on the Mount teaching (see Romans 12:17 and Matthew 5:39). That's quite a lot of wisdom for a preschooler, even if she is simply parroting what her parents taught her.
Most people don't know that the retributive models of justice we find in our criminal justice system today find their origins in these ancient Near East laws. "Justice" then was too often carried out by the family of the injured party, so lex talionis was put into place to limit the consequences of a crime to equal that of the harm done. These laws were designed to ensure equal justice, not to validate revenge or retaliation. As researcher Kathryn Getek Soltis says, lex talionis "gives rights to those who have had their rights violated through crime. The law restores power to victims by offering them a claim to the equivalent suffering of the offender" (115). This restored power was designed to benefit and protect the poor and vulnerable of society.
This principle of righting the imbalances caused by crime makes sense. It appeals to our human desire for fairness. So, why did Jesus reject this law in the Sermon on the Mount, and why does our so-called Christian nation model the ancient Near East law rather than Jesus' teaching? In other teachings Jesus encouraged people to follow the laws, but His teaching to not repay evil for evil and to turn the other cheek defined justice anew. Perhaps He recognized that following "an eye for an eye" would result in nothing more than a lot of blind citizens. Perhaps He wanted to prepare us for the concept of grace that He ushered in by His substitutionary act of radical love on the cross.
Whether we live by "an eye for an eye" or by Jesus' teaching of radical love, we don't have to stop holding people accountable for their actions. The little girl who forked her friend needed to learn that her behavior was wrong, and she needed to learn how to make that wrong right. But if we begin with a mind towards restoration rather than equaling harms, we would all be better off.
Sources cited:
The Borgman article came from the Herald Palladium, date unknown.
Soltis, Kathryn Getek, "Mass Incarceration and Theological Images of Justice," Journal of the Society of Christian Ethics, Vol. 31, No. 2 (2011), pp. 113-130.
I am sure that this precocious 4-year-old doesn't know the history of lex talionis, the ancient formula of retributive justice found in the Babylonian Code of Hammurapi and in Jewish laws in Exodus 21:24, but she certainly knew of the Apostle Paul's interpretation of Jesus' Sermon on the Mount teaching (see Romans 12:17 and Matthew 5:39). That's quite a lot of wisdom for a preschooler, even if she is simply parroting what her parents taught her.
Most people don't know that the retributive models of justice we find in our criminal justice system today find their origins in these ancient Near East laws. "Justice" then was too often carried out by the family of the injured party, so lex talionis was put into place to limit the consequences of a crime to equal that of the harm done. These laws were designed to ensure equal justice, not to validate revenge or retaliation. As researcher Kathryn Getek Soltis says, lex talionis "gives rights to those who have had their rights violated through crime. The law restores power to victims by offering them a claim to the equivalent suffering of the offender" (115). This restored power was designed to benefit and protect the poor and vulnerable of society.
This principle of righting the imbalances caused by crime makes sense. It appeals to our human desire for fairness. So, why did Jesus reject this law in the Sermon on the Mount, and why does our so-called Christian nation model the ancient Near East law rather than Jesus' teaching? In other teachings Jesus encouraged people to follow the laws, but His teaching to not repay evil for evil and to turn the other cheek defined justice anew. Perhaps He recognized that following "an eye for an eye" would result in nothing more than a lot of blind citizens. Perhaps He wanted to prepare us for the concept of grace that He ushered in by His substitutionary act of radical love on the cross.
Whether we live by "an eye for an eye" or by Jesus' teaching of radical love, we don't have to stop holding people accountable for their actions. The little girl who forked her friend needed to learn that her behavior was wrong, and she needed to learn how to make that wrong right. But if we begin with a mind towards restoration rather than equaling harms, we would all be better off.
Sources cited:
The Borgman article came from the Herald Palladium, date unknown.
Soltis, Kathryn Getek, "Mass Incarceration and Theological Images of Justice," Journal of the Society of Christian Ethics, Vol. 31, No. 2 (2011), pp. 113-130.
Wednesday, November 8, 2017
The Broken Criminal Justice System
After a home-grown terrorist attacked civilians in lower Manhattan New York, killing eight and wounding at least a dozen more, President Trump indicated that he would support sending this domestic terrorist to Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. He has since backed away from this statement, but within a day of making it, Trump followed up his comments by condemning the U.S. justice system as a "joke" and a "laughingstock."
While I do agree that the U.S. justice system is broken, I philosophically disagree with President Trump as to why it is broken. Trump claims that our justice system is not swift enough nor severe enough despite the fact that the United States has the highest incarceration rate per capita in the world, at the same time that crime rates have fallen roughly 45% between 1990 and 2012. Furthermore, the United States is the only industrialized country still using the death penalty and sentencing its prisoners to much longer sentences than any other industrialized nation, contradicting Trump's claim that our justice system is not severe enough.
Trump's comments reveal a complete lack of understanding about the justice system, and he ignores the results of numerous studies that have repudiated tough-on-crime policies of criminal justice that led to the mass incarceration we have today. Trump, like other U.S. citizens, no doubt has strong opinions about crime, especially the kind of crime this domestic terrorist committed. Crime ought to be punished, and those who commit such heinous acts out to be held accountable for their barbaric behavior. But when a sitting President publicly calls for the death penalty before the justice system has even had a chance to perform its function, we can clearly see what sort of "justice" he is advocating for. Due process was important enough to our county's founders that those Constitutional protections extended even to the most hated among us. If we are to discard the protections the Constitution affords even barbaric killers, we will soon find due process and other rights are no longer rights for all, but only for those who are rich or powerful enough to benefit from them.
The President has a duty to speak to the anxiety our country feels after a terrorist attack or other national tragedy, and he is right to demand justice for the victims. But the President also has a duty to uphold our Constitution and to fight for justice, not vengeance.
Let's fix the broken criminal justice system. But let's not "fix" it by tweeting out emotionally charged proposals. Let's address the tough-on-crime policies that have led to the world's highest incarceration rate, in a country that prides itself on freedom and human rights. Let's start listening to expert research that shows lengthy prison sentences do not lead to reformed lives. Let's not respond with knee-jerk reactions to the atrocities committed by one crazed lunatic by reinforcing a system that has perpetuated atrocities for generations.
While I do agree that the U.S. justice system is broken, I philosophically disagree with President Trump as to why it is broken. Trump claims that our justice system is not swift enough nor severe enough despite the fact that the United States has the highest incarceration rate per capita in the world, at the same time that crime rates have fallen roughly 45% between 1990 and 2012. Furthermore, the United States is the only industrialized country still using the death penalty and sentencing its prisoners to much longer sentences than any other industrialized nation, contradicting Trump's claim that our justice system is not severe enough.
Trump's comments reveal a complete lack of understanding about the justice system, and he ignores the results of numerous studies that have repudiated tough-on-crime policies of criminal justice that led to the mass incarceration we have today. Trump, like other U.S. citizens, no doubt has strong opinions about crime, especially the kind of crime this domestic terrorist committed. Crime ought to be punished, and those who commit such heinous acts out to be held accountable for their barbaric behavior. But when a sitting President publicly calls for the death penalty before the justice system has even had a chance to perform its function, we can clearly see what sort of "justice" he is advocating for. Due process was important enough to our county's founders that those Constitutional protections extended even to the most hated among us. If we are to discard the protections the Constitution affords even barbaric killers, we will soon find due process and other rights are no longer rights for all, but only for those who are rich or powerful enough to benefit from them.
The President has a duty to speak to the anxiety our country feels after a terrorist attack or other national tragedy, and he is right to demand justice for the victims. But the President also has a duty to uphold our Constitution and to fight for justice, not vengeance.
Let's fix the broken criminal justice system. But let's not "fix" it by tweeting out emotionally charged proposals. Let's address the tough-on-crime policies that have led to the world's highest incarceration rate, in a country that prides itself on freedom and human rights. Let's start listening to expert research that shows lengthy prison sentences do not lead to reformed lives. Let's not respond with knee-jerk reactions to the atrocities committed by one crazed lunatic by reinforcing a system that has perpetuated atrocities for generations.
Tuesday, October 31, 2017
Prison Volunteers Receive Dehumanization Training
The last several years, I have had several people who volunteer in prison, mostly religious service volunteers, tell me that as a part of their authorization to come into prison, they must take training from the Michigan Department of Corrections (MDOC). As a part of this training, they are told emphatically to not make eye contact with us, not to shake our hands or hug us, and to be aware that all prisoners lie to and manipulate visitors and staff. Fortunately, many of these volunteers do not follow these directives, nor do they believe the MDOC propaganda that seems to say prisoners are worthless and un-redeemable.
Given the MDOC's view of prisoners, it is amazing to me that the Department has elected to provide any vocational training or programming designed to improve prisoners' odds of succeeding after being released from prison. It is clear that, since the MDOC continues to dehumanize prisoners to people who volunteer and work in prison, they do not believe we are worth believing in or caring about. It is certainly true that some prisoners lie and manipulate, and volunteers do need to know the dangers of functioning within prison, but the majority of prisoners do not want to manipulate volunteers. They simply want to be cared about and seen as more than a number.
Security is important in prison, and the MDOC has a vested interest in protecting its volunteers and staff from being "turned" by a prisoner. Once a prisoner turns a volunteer or staff member by forming an intimate (though not necessarily sexual) relationship, the danger of that person violating the security of the institution increases dramatically. Consequently, security trumps seeing and treating prisoners as human.
As soon as a people group, in this case prisoners, are dehumanized, it is easier to violate their dignity as humans created in God's image. Christoph Schwobel, author of Recovering Human Dignity, claims that our understanding of what it means to be a human being is intricately linked with our view of reality, and our view of reality shapes how we behave. This truth is painfully evident in how our society behaves towards its prisoners, its immigrants, its homeless, and its marginalized minorities. Rather than unquestioningly believing the dehumanizing rhetoric of people in power--MDOC administrators, politicians, the news media--people who recognize their own dignity as God's creation must extend that same dignity to those at the greatest risk of undignified and inhumane treatment and teach others to do the same.
The best way to teach prisoners how to treat others with dignity and respect is to begin modeling those qualities to us. Hopefully, in turn, we will then treat others with the same dignity and respect that was shown to us when we least deserved it.
Given the MDOC's view of prisoners, it is amazing to me that the Department has elected to provide any vocational training or programming designed to improve prisoners' odds of succeeding after being released from prison. It is clear that, since the MDOC continues to dehumanize prisoners to people who volunteer and work in prison, they do not believe we are worth believing in or caring about. It is certainly true that some prisoners lie and manipulate, and volunteers do need to know the dangers of functioning within prison, but the majority of prisoners do not want to manipulate volunteers. They simply want to be cared about and seen as more than a number.
Security is important in prison, and the MDOC has a vested interest in protecting its volunteers and staff from being "turned" by a prisoner. Once a prisoner turns a volunteer or staff member by forming an intimate (though not necessarily sexual) relationship, the danger of that person violating the security of the institution increases dramatically. Consequently, security trumps seeing and treating prisoners as human.
As soon as a people group, in this case prisoners, are dehumanized, it is easier to violate their dignity as humans created in God's image. Christoph Schwobel, author of Recovering Human Dignity, claims that our understanding of what it means to be a human being is intricately linked with our view of reality, and our view of reality shapes how we behave. This truth is painfully evident in how our society behaves towards its prisoners, its immigrants, its homeless, and its marginalized minorities. Rather than unquestioningly believing the dehumanizing rhetoric of people in power--MDOC administrators, politicians, the news media--people who recognize their own dignity as God's creation must extend that same dignity to those at the greatest risk of undignified and inhumane treatment and teach others to do the same.
The best way to teach prisoners how to treat others with dignity and respect is to begin modeling those qualities to us. Hopefully, in turn, we will then treat others with the same dignity and respect that was shown to us when we least deserved it.
Wednesday, October 25, 2017
Negative Feedback Fails to Consider Justice
Over the last couple of years, the prison where I am housed has received a lot of press. In the year I have been at this facility, I have seen news media on the grounds at least a half dozen times, and I have seen the resulting coverage on TV. This is quite unusual for prison, and it is especially unusual to see positive news coverage of prison. But good things are happening at this facility, both in terms of the Calvin Prison Initiative that I am a part of and the Vocational Village where hundreds of soon-to-be-released prisoners are receiving vocational training so they can be successfully employed upon release from prison. These are exciting, positive developments in the Michigan Department of Corrections, yet not everyone is happy about it.
At a recent church service in prison, the volunteer was illustrating a point by sharing that after recent positive news coverage of these programs was posted on a news website, a large number of negative comments were posted by viewers. Apparently, some of the public resents that prisoners are offered a free college education (through the generous donations of others!) or given vocational training for employment readiness. As a prisoner, these sentiments are hurtful, but I can understand, to a degree, the feeling these opponents have. Some of these opponents likely have to go into debt for their own or their children's education, so why should prisoners be given a free college degree or vocational training? Isn't that rewarding bad behavior?
The fact remains that the majority of prisoners are uneducated or under-educated, and studies have shown that education reduces recidivism. The opponents of prisoner education may object on financial grounds, but since education of prisoners is proven to reduce re-offense rates, investigation in educating prisoners actually reduces the overall costs to taxpayers. Crime is expensive, but preventing future crime is not only a sound financial investment, it also pays big dividends in reducing the human cost of crime. Education on its own is not a fix-it-all--some of the prisoners educated at this facility will likely return to prison--but if educating a prisoner keeps that person from harming the loved ones of these opponents, I bet those opponents would change their opinions.
It is easy to judge others when you don't know them--and perhaps people are justified in resenting those who have committed crimes--but making moral judgments about a criminal's unworthiness to be educated fails to consider the cost of releasing uneducated prisoners who have not been properly rehabilitated back into society. And most prisoners will be released from prison. Justice is not limited to getting a conviction and sending a person to prison. Justice also involves investing in healing the people damaged by crime--including the victims, offenders, families of victims and offenders, and communities. Education is one small way to bring about healing and transformation to those who have damaged themselves and others through crime.
At a recent church service in prison, the volunteer was illustrating a point by sharing that after recent positive news coverage of these programs was posted on a news website, a large number of negative comments were posted by viewers. Apparently, some of the public resents that prisoners are offered a free college education (through the generous donations of others!) or given vocational training for employment readiness. As a prisoner, these sentiments are hurtful, but I can understand, to a degree, the feeling these opponents have. Some of these opponents likely have to go into debt for their own or their children's education, so why should prisoners be given a free college degree or vocational training? Isn't that rewarding bad behavior?
The fact remains that the majority of prisoners are uneducated or under-educated, and studies have shown that education reduces recidivism. The opponents of prisoner education may object on financial grounds, but since education of prisoners is proven to reduce re-offense rates, investigation in educating prisoners actually reduces the overall costs to taxpayers. Crime is expensive, but preventing future crime is not only a sound financial investment, it also pays big dividends in reducing the human cost of crime. Education on its own is not a fix-it-all--some of the prisoners educated at this facility will likely return to prison--but if educating a prisoner keeps that person from harming the loved ones of these opponents, I bet those opponents would change their opinions.
It is easy to judge others when you don't know them--and perhaps people are justified in resenting those who have committed crimes--but making moral judgments about a criminal's unworthiness to be educated fails to consider the cost of releasing uneducated prisoners who have not been properly rehabilitated back into society. And most prisoners will be released from prison. Justice is not limited to getting a conviction and sending a person to prison. Justice also involves investing in healing the people damaged by crime--including the victims, offenders, families of victims and offenders, and communities. Education is one small way to bring about healing and transformation to those who have damaged themselves and others through crime.
Tuesday, October 17, 2017
Collaboration Brings Reentry Help to Prisoners
One of the most challenging aspects of reducing recidivism (re-offense rates) is helping returning citizens properly re-engage with their communities by finding appropriate housing, employment, and other resources many free citizens take for granted every day. Some paroling prisoners have family and friends to help them through this process, but many do not. Even for those with support, the amount of work necessary to connect returning citizens with services and resources they need to become independent and successful can be daunting.
On October 13, 2017, Jason VanHorn, Calvin College Professor of Geographical Information Systems, and Julie Bylsma of the Calvin Prison Initiative (CPI) met with students enrolled in the CPI program https://calvin.edu/prison-initiative/about/ to share information about an exciting new collaboration designed to improve the odds of success for paroling Michigan prisoners.
For the last two years, Calvin College students and staff at the Knollcrest campus have collaborated with Henry Institute https://calvin.edu/centers-institutes/henry-institute/ to build a new website interface and mobile phone app they have called the "Re-Entry Map Initiative." This application is designed to put all known available reentry resources at the fingertips of returning citizens in the Grand Rapids area (Kent county). So far, VanHorn and Bylsma have identified over 150 resources in the greater Grand Rapids area that are dedicated to helping returning citizens succeed upon release from prison.
The benefits of this application for returning citizens who are on parole include being able to quickly identify the closest resources (many parolees do not have transportation) and to make use of every service available to help them become independent. These resources include both government services, felony friendly employers, non-profits and ministries who focus on ex-felons, counseling, and housing options.
The students and staff who have worked on this collaboration have kept in mind that many returning citizens are unfamiliar with the Internet and smartphone applications. They have designed the interface to be user-friendly and simple. Future additions to this application may include expanding its coverage to additional Michigan counties and possibly other states. Talks are in process with the Michigan Department of Corrections to make the Re-Entry Map Initiative a linked resource for the department's reentry program website.
Those interested in using this resource to help a returning citizen who is paroling to the Grand Rapids area prepare for success, please visit gis.Calvin.edu/rc
On October 13, 2017, Jason VanHorn, Calvin College Professor of Geographical Information Systems, and Julie Bylsma of the Calvin Prison Initiative (CPI) met with students enrolled in the CPI program https://calvin.edu/prison-initiative/about/ to share information about an exciting new collaboration designed to improve the odds of success for paroling Michigan prisoners.
For the last two years, Calvin College students and staff at the Knollcrest campus have collaborated with Henry Institute https://calvin.edu/centers-institutes/henry-institute/ to build a new website interface and mobile phone app they have called the "Re-Entry Map Initiative." This application is designed to put all known available reentry resources at the fingertips of returning citizens in the Grand Rapids area (Kent county). So far, VanHorn and Bylsma have identified over 150 resources in the greater Grand Rapids area that are dedicated to helping returning citizens succeed upon release from prison.
The benefits of this application for returning citizens who are on parole include being able to quickly identify the closest resources (many parolees do not have transportation) and to make use of every service available to help them become independent. These resources include both government services, felony friendly employers, non-profits and ministries who focus on ex-felons, counseling, and housing options.
The students and staff who have worked on this collaboration have kept in mind that many returning citizens are unfamiliar with the Internet and smartphone applications. They have designed the interface to be user-friendly and simple. Future additions to this application may include expanding its coverage to additional Michigan counties and possibly other states. Talks are in process with the Michigan Department of Corrections to make the Re-Entry Map Initiative a linked resource for the department's reentry program website.
Those interested in using this resource to help a returning citizen who is paroling to the Grand Rapids area prepare for success, please visit gis.Calvin.edu/rc
Monday, October 9, 2017
Don't I Know You?
A couple of weeks ago, I was in the indoor weight pit, which I hadn't been in for a while, and as I worked out by myself the guy at the station next to me asked, "Hey man! What's your name?" Well, when a stranger in prison asks for your name, immediately your guard goes up. Either the guy might mistake you for someone else who he knew at another prison (and may have a beef with), or the guy may have some ulterior motives--"Don't I know you?" is a common approach for manipulation tactics.
Putting aside my caution, I told him my name, "Bryan." He replied, "Hope on the Inside Bryan?"
Imagine my shock to hear a complete stranger in prison recognize me because of my blog! I was so taken aback, and I asked him, "How do you know about my blog." Come to find out, he recently arrived in prison, and as he was preparing to come to prison he stumbled across my blog. He said that he read every post and that it was very helpful for him as he prepared for coming to prison--a new experience for him. He happened to end up in the same prison as me, and he remembered what I looked like from my blog picture!
As you can imagine, I was thrilled to know my blog helped a fellow prisoner. Most of the time, I am writing for loved ones of prisoners, but I realize that people headed to prison, prison reform advocates, and others also read my blog. My hope is that what I write can reach the greatest number of people and shed light on prison issues, but I especially want my writing to provide hope and healing. Prison is not the end of the line for most people, but even for those who find themselves in prison for life, life need not cease to have meaning. Being in prison sucks, but as I have written, it can be a monastery rather than a cemetery, if one makes it so. My hope is that by shedding light on the darkness of prison and sharing a prisoner's perspective, people outside the razor wire fences will fear us less, will love us more, and will allow us the opportunity to redeem ourselves for the wrongs we have done.
My blog reader-turned-prisoner is now becoming a friend of mine. He says he is committed to using this time to reform himself, and if my blog had even a little influence in his decision to make something positive of this time in prison, I have accomplished at least part of my objective of being a means for healing rather than a force of destruction. You never know how much of an impact something simple can have on the life of another.
Putting aside my caution, I told him my name, "Bryan." He replied, "Hope on the Inside Bryan?"
Imagine my shock to hear a complete stranger in prison recognize me because of my blog! I was so taken aback, and I asked him, "How do you know about my blog." Come to find out, he recently arrived in prison, and as he was preparing to come to prison he stumbled across my blog. He said that he read every post and that it was very helpful for him as he prepared for coming to prison--a new experience for him. He happened to end up in the same prison as me, and he remembered what I looked like from my blog picture!
As you can imagine, I was thrilled to know my blog helped a fellow prisoner. Most of the time, I am writing for loved ones of prisoners, but I realize that people headed to prison, prison reform advocates, and others also read my blog. My hope is that what I write can reach the greatest number of people and shed light on prison issues, but I especially want my writing to provide hope and healing. Prison is not the end of the line for most people, but even for those who find themselves in prison for life, life need not cease to have meaning. Being in prison sucks, but as I have written, it can be a monastery rather than a cemetery, if one makes it so. My hope is that by shedding light on the darkness of prison and sharing a prisoner's perspective, people outside the razor wire fences will fear us less, will love us more, and will allow us the opportunity to redeem ourselves for the wrongs we have done.
My blog reader-turned-prisoner is now becoming a friend of mine. He says he is committed to using this time to reform himself, and if my blog had even a little influence in his decision to make something positive of this time in prison, I have accomplished at least part of my objective of being a means for healing rather than a force of destruction. You never know how much of an impact something simple can have on the life of another.
Wednesday, October 4, 2017
Please Don't Fear Me
While running with my friend John the other day, he recounted a recent experience he had in which he made a visit to a public hospital while shackled and flanked by two armed guards. Most routine medical care (if you can call it that) is conducted on site within prison; however, some procedures and tests require a visit to facilities with more equipment and expertise. When this occurs, the prisoner is handcuffed, shackled, and escorted by armed guards. Such was the case with my friend.
John recounted that once he was in the hospital, he and the guards entered an elevator to go to a higher floor. Just before the doors of the elevator closed, a woman stepped in, not realizing that John and the guards were already in there. According to John, the woman was so shocked and nervous to be enclosed in an elevator with a shackled prisoner and armed guards that she just froze. She didn't select a floor, didn't say a word, and wouldn't even look in John's direction.
Getting a little emotional as we ran, John said to me, "Bryan, I never want anyone to ever fear me like that again, just because of my past!" Of course, this woman knew nothing of John or his past, but just seeing a prisoner in shackles, escorted by armed guards, automatically paints a picture in a person's mind that the prisoner must be highly dangerous and must have done something horrible to be restrained in such a way. While security is foremost in the minds of the guards, for prisoners, being viewed by the public in such a way is dehumanizing.
It is true, many prisoners have done terrible things in their past. Sometimes these things result in lifelong consequences, both for the prisoner and for their victim(s). John's case is no different. But John, just like other prisoners, is still human. His past actions do not define who he is today, and yet the public perception of most prisoners is that we are dangerous monsters who must be kept apart from the public. Bad behavior requires consequences, and sometimes these consequences last a lifetime, but the public might be surprised to find out just how human many prisoners are. We want to be loved and accepted, just like everyone else. We laugh at funny jokes, cry while watching emotional movies, and dream many of the same dreams of the free public. While decorum and rules might prevent it, when someone fears us like the woman did John, we want to reach out and reassure that person that there is nothing to fear.
Yes, we have hurt people in the past, but our past is not who many of us are today. It hurts us to know that others fear us hurting them. We want to cry out, "If you could just get to know me, you'd discover that I am not that much different than you! Please, don't fear me."
John recounted that once he was in the hospital, he and the guards entered an elevator to go to a higher floor. Just before the doors of the elevator closed, a woman stepped in, not realizing that John and the guards were already in there. According to John, the woman was so shocked and nervous to be enclosed in an elevator with a shackled prisoner and armed guards that she just froze. She didn't select a floor, didn't say a word, and wouldn't even look in John's direction.
Getting a little emotional as we ran, John said to me, "Bryan, I never want anyone to ever fear me like that again, just because of my past!" Of course, this woman knew nothing of John or his past, but just seeing a prisoner in shackles, escorted by armed guards, automatically paints a picture in a person's mind that the prisoner must be highly dangerous and must have done something horrible to be restrained in such a way. While security is foremost in the minds of the guards, for prisoners, being viewed by the public in such a way is dehumanizing.
It is true, many prisoners have done terrible things in their past. Sometimes these things result in lifelong consequences, both for the prisoner and for their victim(s). John's case is no different. But John, just like other prisoners, is still human. His past actions do not define who he is today, and yet the public perception of most prisoners is that we are dangerous monsters who must be kept apart from the public. Bad behavior requires consequences, and sometimes these consequences last a lifetime, but the public might be surprised to find out just how human many prisoners are. We want to be loved and accepted, just like everyone else. We laugh at funny jokes, cry while watching emotional movies, and dream many of the same dreams of the free public. While decorum and rules might prevent it, when someone fears us like the woman did John, we want to reach out and reassure that person that there is nothing to fear.
Yes, we have hurt people in the past, but our past is not who many of us are today. It hurts us to know that others fear us hurting them. We want to cry out, "If you could just get to know me, you'd discover that I am not that much different than you! Please, don't fear me."
Sunday, September 24, 2017
Justice Department Resumes Illegal Search and Seizures
For years the US government has facilitated the violation of constitutional law by supporting state "rights" to illegally seize the assets of criminal suspects who have not been convicted of a crime. Under these unconstitutional practices, local and state authorities seized assets of suspected criminals using federal adoptive forfeiture practices. In 2015 Attorney General Eric Holder, who recognized the constitutional violation of such practices, put a stop to it. A March 2017 Justice Department report found that in the eight years prior to Holder stopping the practice, its use led to forced forfeiture of about $880 million in assets. These assets were unlawfully taken from suspected criminal defendants, not convicted ones.
While constitutional law advocates applauded Holder's reversal of this unconstitutional practice, within the first 100-day legacy of the Trump administration the new Attorney General Jeff Sessions reversed Holder's decision and re-sanctioned law enforcement to continue their constitutionally invalid search and seizure practices.
Tough on crime advocates may applaud this Trump administration decision because it means additional funds for state and federal law enforcement agencies, but those who are quick to applaud such measures ought to reconsider their position. This illegal search and seizure practice is not against convicted criminals, but against those who are suspected of committing a crime. A core American principle is the protection of its citizens against government overreach through Constitutional Amendments like the 4th Amendment against unreasonable search and seizure. When we allow local, state, and federal authorities the autonomy to take the assets of its citizens without due process, we afford our government too much authority.
When its Constitution no longer protects citizens who have not been convicted of a crime, America ought to be gravely concerned. This unlawful practice also ought to alarm America's citizens and alert them to the reality that when its citizens do not hold them accountable, government authority is often misused and abused. If the American government abuses the constitutional protections of its law-abiding citizens, it is no small jump to conclude that many of the constitutional violations claimed against state and federal law enforcement and court systems by citizens who have been convicted of crimes (often because of those violations) are founded in truth. Americans must stand up and demand integrity from their government. Failing to do so may mean that you, law abiding or not, may be the next citizen to find himself or herself railroaded by a government who operates outside the law.
While constitutional law advocates applauded Holder's reversal of this unconstitutional practice, within the first 100-day legacy of the Trump administration the new Attorney General Jeff Sessions reversed Holder's decision and re-sanctioned law enforcement to continue their constitutionally invalid search and seizure practices.
Tough on crime advocates may applaud this Trump administration decision because it means additional funds for state and federal law enforcement agencies, but those who are quick to applaud such measures ought to reconsider their position. This illegal search and seizure practice is not against convicted criminals, but against those who are suspected of committing a crime. A core American principle is the protection of its citizens against government overreach through Constitutional Amendments like the 4th Amendment against unreasonable search and seizure. When we allow local, state, and federal authorities the autonomy to take the assets of its citizens without due process, we afford our government too much authority.
When its Constitution no longer protects citizens who have not been convicted of a crime, America ought to be gravely concerned. This unlawful practice also ought to alarm America's citizens and alert them to the reality that when its citizens do not hold them accountable, government authority is often misused and abused. If the American government abuses the constitutional protections of its law-abiding citizens, it is no small jump to conclude that many of the constitutional violations claimed against state and federal law enforcement and court systems by citizens who have been convicted of crimes (often because of those violations) are founded in truth. Americans must stand up and demand integrity from their government. Failing to do so may mean that you, law abiding or not, may be the next citizen to find himself or herself railroaded by a government who operates outside the law.
Thursday, September 14, 2017
Equal Protection of the Law...for Some
One of the principles of justice the early American fathers considered important enough to write into the Constitution is that of equal justice for all. The Fourteenth Amendment, passed into law in 1868, recognized the unequal and inconsistent application of justice, particularly between wealthy and influential white American citizens and poor and underrepresented minorities. This important Amendment reads in part, "No state may deny any person, under its government, equal protection of the law."
Since the passing of this Amendment, the state and federal courts have interpreted this Amendment to apply in various situations, including the equal administration of justice at sentencing and the equal application of laws, regardless of wealth and influence. Unfortunately, despite the ideology of equality endemic in this Amendment and its jurisprudent progeny, justice is not equal for all.
Since coming to power in January, the Trump administration has shown itself to be unfriendly to the prison reform movement that has been gaining momentum over the last decade. One of this administration's first orders of business included cancelling the Justice Department's defense of the FCC's ruling that prison telephone rates could not exceed certain limits. This ruling had been appealed, naturally, by the phone service providers and by several states (including Michigan) who make money from kickbacks on prisoners' already expensive phone calls. Although the Justice Department under President Obama had fought for limits on these exorbitant rates, President Trump did not consider these excessive rates oppressive.
Further eroding his support of equal justice, President Trump recently pardoned the very controversial and self-proclaimed "America's toughest sheriff" Joe Arpaio of his conviction for criminal contempt of a federal judge's order prohibiting unlawful immigration patrols. While I am an ardent supporter of state rights, I also find it nauseating that President Trump would pardon someone who made a career of humiliating people who had been convicted of a crime. Arpaio's pardon is a perfect illustration of how, despite the constitutional mandate of equal protection, wealthy and powerful people are often above the law. He willfully broke the law because he believed himself to be above it, and President Trump only confirmed this belief by pardoning him.
For me, Arpaio is the face of retributive justice gone awry. Since Arpaio is such an advocate for law and justice, he ought to have the privilege of experiencing that justice for his own crime. Perhaps a little time in his own pink underwear and tent cities and time spent on his own chain gangs would have softened his heart a little towards those he was quick to judge so harshly. Nobody will know for sure now, but maybe if Arpaio had to spend a little time living with the men he loved to humiliate, he would have gained an appreciation for their humanity and begun to view them with a heart of restoration. Sometimes the most vocal opponents of restorative justice can become its most ardent supporters, if only they experience the other side. Sadly, it took coming to prison for me to gain a deep appreciation for equal justice and to become an advocate for restorative justice--even for people like Sheriff Arpaio.
Since the passing of this Amendment, the state and federal courts have interpreted this Amendment to apply in various situations, including the equal administration of justice at sentencing and the equal application of laws, regardless of wealth and influence. Unfortunately, despite the ideology of equality endemic in this Amendment and its jurisprudent progeny, justice is not equal for all.
Since coming to power in January, the Trump administration has shown itself to be unfriendly to the prison reform movement that has been gaining momentum over the last decade. One of this administration's first orders of business included cancelling the Justice Department's defense of the FCC's ruling that prison telephone rates could not exceed certain limits. This ruling had been appealed, naturally, by the phone service providers and by several states (including Michigan) who make money from kickbacks on prisoners' already expensive phone calls. Although the Justice Department under President Obama had fought for limits on these exorbitant rates, President Trump did not consider these excessive rates oppressive.
Further eroding his support of equal justice, President Trump recently pardoned the very controversial and self-proclaimed "America's toughest sheriff" Joe Arpaio of his conviction for criminal contempt of a federal judge's order prohibiting unlawful immigration patrols. While I am an ardent supporter of state rights, I also find it nauseating that President Trump would pardon someone who made a career of humiliating people who had been convicted of a crime. Arpaio's pardon is a perfect illustration of how, despite the constitutional mandate of equal protection, wealthy and powerful people are often above the law. He willfully broke the law because he believed himself to be above it, and President Trump only confirmed this belief by pardoning him.
For me, Arpaio is the face of retributive justice gone awry. Since Arpaio is such an advocate for law and justice, he ought to have the privilege of experiencing that justice for his own crime. Perhaps a little time in his own pink underwear and tent cities and time spent on his own chain gangs would have softened his heart a little towards those he was quick to judge so harshly. Nobody will know for sure now, but maybe if Arpaio had to spend a little time living with the men he loved to humiliate, he would have gained an appreciation for their humanity and begun to view them with a heart of restoration. Sometimes the most vocal opponents of restorative justice can become its most ardent supporters, if only they experience the other side. Sadly, it took coming to prison for me to gain a deep appreciation for equal justice and to become an advocate for restorative justice--even for people like Sheriff Arpaio.
Thursday, September 7, 2017
Shhhh...It's Quiet Time!
Given the incessant fast-paced lifestyle of today's American citizen, it dawned on me that prisoners have a distinct advantage over their free counterparts. While most Americans are hurrying from one activity or commitment to another, chasing the American dream, America's prisoners are sitting with excessive time on their hands. This down time has the potential to make a significant difference in a prisoner's life, if he let's it.
Do you remember back in preschool or kindergarten when you were forced to take naps as a part of your school schedule? Maybe they weren't called naps, and maybe in today's fast-paced culture they don't even do this anymore. But I remember as a kid hating having to take naps. I wanted to go, go, go. I wanted to stay active doing something. And then, as an adult, I remember wishing to just close my eyes for a quick catnap in the middle of the day, but I didn't have the time for it.
In prison we have several count times throughout the day. I am awake for three of them, although I know there are several more throughout the night. These count times are designed to provide the corrections officers an opportunity to count everyone and make sure they are still accounted for. This prevents someone from coming up missing and it not being discovered for a long time. These count times are annoying because it means stopping what you are doing and going to your cell for 45 minutes or so until count time is over. It is a forced "quiet time."
For many prisoners, this a time to flip through useless daytime television, and for others it is an opportunity to read or take a short nap. Still others use this time to study, or to write letters. Surprisingly, in most prisons count time is usually quiet. Prisoners settle down and, for the most part, use the down time quietly. I have even used count times for meditation time in the past.
Many prisoners have no experience with self-reflection or contemplation. We are certainly not taught how to do this in prison, but we are afforded ample opportunity to develop these practices on our own. For those who develop these important skills, prison becomes an opportunity to reflect on one's past mistakes and grow into a more responsible and mature adult. I might hate having to be on someone else's schedule right now, but when I am eventually released, I know I will miss the forced down time. It has become a valuable part of my day.
Do you remember back in preschool or kindergarten when you were forced to take naps as a part of your school schedule? Maybe they weren't called naps, and maybe in today's fast-paced culture they don't even do this anymore. But I remember as a kid hating having to take naps. I wanted to go, go, go. I wanted to stay active doing something. And then, as an adult, I remember wishing to just close my eyes for a quick catnap in the middle of the day, but I didn't have the time for it.
In prison we have several count times throughout the day. I am awake for three of them, although I know there are several more throughout the night. These count times are designed to provide the corrections officers an opportunity to count everyone and make sure they are still accounted for. This prevents someone from coming up missing and it not being discovered for a long time. These count times are annoying because it means stopping what you are doing and going to your cell for 45 minutes or so until count time is over. It is a forced "quiet time."
For many prisoners, this a time to flip through useless daytime television, and for others it is an opportunity to read or take a short nap. Still others use this time to study, or to write letters. Surprisingly, in most prisons count time is usually quiet. Prisoners settle down and, for the most part, use the down time quietly. I have even used count times for meditation time in the past.
Many prisoners have no experience with self-reflection or contemplation. We are certainly not taught how to do this in prison, but we are afforded ample opportunity to develop these practices on our own. For those who develop these important skills, prison becomes an opportunity to reflect on one's past mistakes and grow into a more responsible and mature adult. I might hate having to be on someone else's schedule right now, but when I am eventually released, I know I will miss the forced down time. It has become a valuable part of my day.
Tuesday, August 29, 2017
Measured by Their Worst Mistake
"No one deserves to be measured by the worst thing he has ever done."
This powerful statement was said to me by a prisoner advocate friend of mine as we discussed the subject of advocacy. Yet, the truth is that as humans we tend to define people by their worst choices. Think about it: President Bill Clinton is remembered largely for the Monica Lewinsky scandal; Pastor Jim Baker is remembered as a womanizing cheater; OJ Simpson as a murderer who got away with it; and Bernie Madoff as a greedy scam artist. All of the other achievements and the good qualities of each of these men are overshadowed by the stain of their bad choices.
Certainly, some people are characterized by a lifetime of wrong choices and bad character, but others, either in a moment of weakness or through an unrestrained passion, erased a lifelong reputation of trustworthiness in a single act.
Nearly all of the guilty men in prison fall into one of these two categories. Some are lifelong losers who either can't figure out how to make good choices or who refuse to out of rebellion. Others are suffering the consequences of a single bad choice, or even a small series of bad choices, that forever altered their lives and often the lives of others. But must these choices forever define these men? Must one forever remain a robber, a rapist, or a murderer?
Politicians, celebrities, and wealthy and influencial people often hire public relations firms to remake a tarnished image; however, most ex-felons have neither the resources nor wherewithal to conduct such a makeover. Instead, they must either embrace their new identity (which many choose), or they must fight a constant uphill battle to show their commitment to new and better choices.
Bad behavior should have consequences, but if we are to become a society that embraces restoration over retribution we must stop measuring people by their worst mistakes; instead, we must begin to define a path toward wholeness so those who regret their worst mistakes can use them as signposts for where their change began, not as a label that identifies them for life.
Giving someone a chance at redemption can be scary. Some who attempt to redeem themselves will fail miserably. But fear of another's failure should not keep us from embracing grace. Grace might just be the only antidote for failure, and who couldn't use a little grace from others?
This powerful statement was said to me by a prisoner advocate friend of mine as we discussed the subject of advocacy. Yet, the truth is that as humans we tend to define people by their worst choices. Think about it: President Bill Clinton is remembered largely for the Monica Lewinsky scandal; Pastor Jim Baker is remembered as a womanizing cheater; OJ Simpson as a murderer who got away with it; and Bernie Madoff as a greedy scam artist. All of the other achievements and the good qualities of each of these men are overshadowed by the stain of their bad choices.
Certainly, some people are characterized by a lifetime of wrong choices and bad character, but others, either in a moment of weakness or through an unrestrained passion, erased a lifelong reputation of trustworthiness in a single act.
Nearly all of the guilty men in prison fall into one of these two categories. Some are lifelong losers who either can't figure out how to make good choices or who refuse to out of rebellion. Others are suffering the consequences of a single bad choice, or even a small series of bad choices, that forever altered their lives and often the lives of others. But must these choices forever define these men? Must one forever remain a robber, a rapist, or a murderer?
Politicians, celebrities, and wealthy and influencial people often hire public relations firms to remake a tarnished image; however, most ex-felons have neither the resources nor wherewithal to conduct such a makeover. Instead, they must either embrace their new identity (which many choose), or they must fight a constant uphill battle to show their commitment to new and better choices.
Bad behavior should have consequences, but if we are to become a society that embraces restoration over retribution we must stop measuring people by their worst mistakes; instead, we must begin to define a path toward wholeness so those who regret their worst mistakes can use them as signposts for where their change began, not as a label that identifies them for life.
Giving someone a chance at redemption can be scary. Some who attempt to redeem themselves will fail miserably. But fear of another's failure should not keep us from embracing grace. Grace might just be the only antidote for failure, and who couldn't use a little grace from others?
Tuesday, August 22, 2017
Oh, The Injustice!
I have a friend in prison who we sometimes call the "Grievance Man." He writes a lot of grievances on the prison administration, both for himself and for others. Many of the issues he grieves are legitimate injustices, but as I have often told him, you have to pick your battles.
The grievance system was set up to give prisoners a voice against injustices they experience inside of prison, from corrections officers, administrative officials, and other corrections staff. You might call it a system for accountability. The unfortunate reality is that the system is deeply flawed and does not provide much justice for prisoners who experience legitimate injustice. If a prisoner is sexually harassed, intentionally put in danger by corrections staff, or if his property is stolen or destroyed by corrections staff, for example, the prisoner is afforded an opportunity through the grievance process to request corrective action. The grievance process is also very frequently used against the medical care and food services provided to prisoners. This system was originally intended to ensure the prisoners' due process rights are protected and to be a filter against frivolous lawsuits. In order to file a civil lawsuit against the Michigan Department of Corrections (MDOC), prisoners must first exhaust their grievance remedies, through all three steps, which can take months to complete. Unfortunately, the grievance process has become a nearly useless remedy for injustice, partly because prison officials often refuse to take grievances seriously and partly because some prisoners use the grievance process to try to resolve petty problems.
First, the grievance is heard by whoever is in authority over the person or persons whom the grievance is written against. The normal response to nearly any grievance, if it is not rejected by the grievance coordinator as "untimely" or for some other reason, is to summarily deny any remedy. Most responses include some line about finding that no policy has been violated, or simply denying the prisoner's accusations. After the first step, the prisoner may appeal to step two, which for many grievances goes to the Warden's office for review. These, too, are nearly always summarily dismissed as frivolous. The final step, step three, is to send the grievance to the regional coordinator. These prison officials are MDOC administrative personnel whose job it is to protect the MDOC. Although I am sure it happens, I am not aware of a single prisoner in my eight years in prison who has been successful on a step three grievance. After the final step, the prisoner may pay a $350 filing fee and file a civil lawsuit against the MDOC. I know of several prisoners who have done this and successfully won a judgment against the medical staff in Michigan prisons for medical malpractice, but I don't know of any that have been successful for other injustices, at least in the last twenty years.
The MDOC grievance system is a broken and ineffective remedy for holding MDOC employees accountable for misconduct and for protecting prisoners' rights. A prisoner who abuses the process by writing large numbers of grievances earns a reputation among staff members as someone who complains a lot (or worse, he is retaliated against by staff), and this rarely helps to resolve any problems--in fact, it often makes them worse. The reality is that injustices happen in prison, sometimes quite frequently. This often happens when there is a large disparity in the power dynamic. But the other reality is that many prisoners have a heightened sense of injustice and poor conflict resolution skills. If prisoners were trained in conflict resolution skills (Chance For Life does offer this in prison to some prisoners), and real injustices were taken seriously by MDOC staff, perhaps the number of grievances the MDOC deals with would decline significantly.
I don't know if my friend will stop writing grievances anytime soon, but as much as I give him a hard time for it, I appreciate his passion for holding those in power accountable. I hope he becomes a powerful voice for genuine transformation. We need people to passionately care like he does.
The grievance system was set up to give prisoners a voice against injustices they experience inside of prison, from corrections officers, administrative officials, and other corrections staff. You might call it a system for accountability. The unfortunate reality is that the system is deeply flawed and does not provide much justice for prisoners who experience legitimate injustice. If a prisoner is sexually harassed, intentionally put in danger by corrections staff, or if his property is stolen or destroyed by corrections staff, for example, the prisoner is afforded an opportunity through the grievance process to request corrective action. The grievance process is also very frequently used against the medical care and food services provided to prisoners. This system was originally intended to ensure the prisoners' due process rights are protected and to be a filter against frivolous lawsuits. In order to file a civil lawsuit against the Michigan Department of Corrections (MDOC), prisoners must first exhaust their grievance remedies, through all three steps, which can take months to complete. Unfortunately, the grievance process has become a nearly useless remedy for injustice, partly because prison officials often refuse to take grievances seriously and partly because some prisoners use the grievance process to try to resolve petty problems.
First, the grievance is heard by whoever is in authority over the person or persons whom the grievance is written against. The normal response to nearly any grievance, if it is not rejected by the grievance coordinator as "untimely" or for some other reason, is to summarily deny any remedy. Most responses include some line about finding that no policy has been violated, or simply denying the prisoner's accusations. After the first step, the prisoner may appeal to step two, which for many grievances goes to the Warden's office for review. These, too, are nearly always summarily dismissed as frivolous. The final step, step three, is to send the grievance to the regional coordinator. These prison officials are MDOC administrative personnel whose job it is to protect the MDOC. Although I am sure it happens, I am not aware of a single prisoner in my eight years in prison who has been successful on a step three grievance. After the final step, the prisoner may pay a $350 filing fee and file a civil lawsuit against the MDOC. I know of several prisoners who have done this and successfully won a judgment against the medical staff in Michigan prisons for medical malpractice, but I don't know of any that have been successful for other injustices, at least in the last twenty years.
The MDOC grievance system is a broken and ineffective remedy for holding MDOC employees accountable for misconduct and for protecting prisoners' rights. A prisoner who abuses the process by writing large numbers of grievances earns a reputation among staff members as someone who complains a lot (or worse, he is retaliated against by staff), and this rarely helps to resolve any problems--in fact, it often makes them worse. The reality is that injustices happen in prison, sometimes quite frequently. This often happens when there is a large disparity in the power dynamic. But the other reality is that many prisoners have a heightened sense of injustice and poor conflict resolution skills. If prisoners were trained in conflict resolution skills (Chance For Life does offer this in prison to some prisoners), and real injustices were taken seriously by MDOC staff, perhaps the number of grievances the MDOC deals with would decline significantly.
I don't know if my friend will stop writing grievances anytime soon, but as much as I give him a hard time for it, I appreciate his passion for holding those in power accountable. I hope he becomes a powerful voice for genuine transformation. We need people to passionately care like he does.
Wednesday, August 16, 2017
How to Say "No!"
It probably does not come as any surprise to my readers that prisoners are notoriously bad at saying no to what we want, but which may not be good for us. This history of bad decision making has led many of us to prison, but only after damaging our lives and the lives of those around us in the process. Each prisoner is different in the things he can't say no to, but some common threads are found throughout the prison population: drugs, money, sex, and violence. For various reasons, many of us found it difficult to say no to what we most certainly knew was not good for us in the long run. Perhaps we deluded ourselves into believing that saying yes "just once" wouldn't hurt us, and that led then to saying yes again and again until we were powerless to say no.
For many people, not just prisoners, saying no to our desires leaves us feeling like we might be missing out on something. We might miss out on the pleasure of being high or the ability to forget our pain; the status and power of having money and what it buys; the pleasure, power, and sense of belonging from sex; or the feeling of power from violence. In our desperate pursuit of happiness, we trade long-term happiness for short-term pleasures, which end up leaving us addicted to the chase for the next pleasure.
Since many of these addictive threads are found in prison, I suspect they are often rooted in feelings of powerlessness. Drugs, money, sex, and violence all may seem like solutions to the feeling of powerlessness, but in the end they imprison people who give up power over their ability to say no. This imprisonment does not always lead to actual prison, but it can be a prison of addiction from which those who pursue them continue to seek an ever elusive mirage of happiness.
Many men in prison have been told "No!" their whole lives. No, you are not good enough. No, you are not important. No, you will not make it out of poverty. No, you will not forget the painful memories of your childhood. No, law enforcement will not protect you. No, your family and friends will not be there when you need them. After hearing "no" their whole lives, many prisoners refuse to tell themselves no. Instead, they give themselves permission to do whatever they want, consequences be damned. What many of us did not realize is that in refusing to say no to those things that would harm us, we were also saying no to the very happiness we longed for.
The Dalai Lama has taught on happiness for years. He explains that making the right decisions in life is not a matter of giving up on something, or of saying "no" to something we desire for our pleasure. It is a matter of saying "yes" to happiness when we recognize that in the long run, what we must say no to will not contribute to our long-term happiness.*
We must be able to recognize those things that will harm our ability to be happy. Many of us know, instinctively, what will harm our happiness. We must simply be willing to say no to those things that will harm us by saying yes to our happiness. Drugs, money, sex, and violence all have histories of harming those who pursue them at all costs. Each of these things has its proper place, but as a means to long-term happiness, they all fail miserably. If you don't believe me, just ask anyone in prison who thought pursuing them would lead to happiness.
*(Paraphrased from "The Sources of Happiness," by the Dalai Lama and Howard Cutler in Pursuing Happiness, Bedford/St. Martin's, 2016, Boston, 32)
For many people, not just prisoners, saying no to our desires leaves us feeling like we might be missing out on something. We might miss out on the pleasure of being high or the ability to forget our pain; the status and power of having money and what it buys; the pleasure, power, and sense of belonging from sex; or the feeling of power from violence. In our desperate pursuit of happiness, we trade long-term happiness for short-term pleasures, which end up leaving us addicted to the chase for the next pleasure.
Since many of these addictive threads are found in prison, I suspect they are often rooted in feelings of powerlessness. Drugs, money, sex, and violence all may seem like solutions to the feeling of powerlessness, but in the end they imprison people who give up power over their ability to say no. This imprisonment does not always lead to actual prison, but it can be a prison of addiction from which those who pursue them continue to seek an ever elusive mirage of happiness.
Many men in prison have been told "No!" their whole lives. No, you are not good enough. No, you are not important. No, you will not make it out of poverty. No, you will not forget the painful memories of your childhood. No, law enforcement will not protect you. No, your family and friends will not be there when you need them. After hearing "no" their whole lives, many prisoners refuse to tell themselves no. Instead, they give themselves permission to do whatever they want, consequences be damned. What many of us did not realize is that in refusing to say no to those things that would harm us, we were also saying no to the very happiness we longed for.
The Dalai Lama has taught on happiness for years. He explains that making the right decisions in life is not a matter of giving up on something, or of saying "no" to something we desire for our pleasure. It is a matter of saying "yes" to happiness when we recognize that in the long run, what we must say no to will not contribute to our long-term happiness.*
We must be able to recognize those things that will harm our ability to be happy. Many of us know, instinctively, what will harm our happiness. We must simply be willing to say no to those things that will harm us by saying yes to our happiness. Drugs, money, sex, and violence all have histories of harming those who pursue them at all costs. Each of these things has its proper place, but as a means to long-term happiness, they all fail miserably. If you don't believe me, just ask anyone in prison who thought pursuing them would lead to happiness.
*(Paraphrased from "The Sources of Happiness," by the Dalai Lama and Howard Cutler in Pursuing Happiness, Bedford/St. Martin's, 2016, Boston, 32)
Tuesday, August 8, 2017
A Prisoner's Cycle of Grief
Recently when I was sitting in a Jackson College stress management class in prison where I am a teacher's aide, the professor was covering grief cycles. Grief cycles were originally named "Stages of Grief" by psychologist Elizabeth Kubler-Ross who identified them. These stages are:
1. Denial
2. Anger
3. Bargaining
4. Depression
5. Acceptance
The stages were later called grief cycles because most people don't normally move linearly through each stage, but rather they cycle through the stages, sometimes repeating stages and even getting stuck cycling between two or three stages for prolonged periods.
As the professor was talking about these cycles of grief, it occurred to me that many prisoners (and probably the families of prisoners as well!) go through these stages of grief. When someone is first arrested, it is common for them to either outright deny what they are accused of, or to shift the blame to mitigate their own culpability. This stage of denial is often quickly followed by anger, at the victim or witnesses for exposing the offender, at the courts for aggressive prosecution, at one's lawyer for failing to effectively defend the offender, at the jail guards for treating the offender poorly, at family members for their lack of support, and finally at oneself for making stupid choices. Sometimes this stage is followed by bargaining, where the offender decides to push for a plea deal rather than face a trial. This stage also includes bargains with God: "Just get me out of this, and I promise to live right from here on out!" Before long, usually within weeks or a month or two, depression sets in. In my own experience, this stage is the longest, although I found myself reverting back to anger from time to time. It sometimes takes a while to get to the point of acceptance.
Acceptance is not, as one student asked the professor, giving up. It is not resigning oneself to the plight one is in. It is acknowledging that one cannot change the past, including one's own mistakes. It also means recognizing that some consequences cannot be avoided, but they can be embraced as a means to molding and shaping one's character. It means learning to use what are otherwise unfortunate and tragic circumstances to make a positive impact wherever one is, now and in the future.
It is when one comes to the point of acceptance that true transformation begins to occur in one's life. Getting to this point doesn't mean never making stupid decisions or choices again. But it means being more introspective and self-aware. It means fostering hope in a better future and taking steps to ensure that happens.
When I came to the point of acceptance in my own cycle of grief, it changed the way I looked at my future. For my first few years in prison, while I was simply trying to survive the challenges of prison, I was also unsure if there was going to be any life for me after prison. I didn't feel very hopeful in my chances, and I'm a pretty hopeful person. But when I came to a point of acceptance, I decided to be intentional about preparing myself for eventual release and to do what I could to help others do the same. This has given me purpose, and I have found it highly rewarding. It hasn't been easy, and I doubt it ever will be, but I find the acceptance stage much more peaceful to live in, even if I still cycle back to other stages from time to time.
1. Denial
2. Anger
3. Bargaining
4. Depression
5. Acceptance
The stages were later called grief cycles because most people don't normally move linearly through each stage, but rather they cycle through the stages, sometimes repeating stages and even getting stuck cycling between two or three stages for prolonged periods.
As the professor was talking about these cycles of grief, it occurred to me that many prisoners (and probably the families of prisoners as well!) go through these stages of grief. When someone is first arrested, it is common for them to either outright deny what they are accused of, or to shift the blame to mitigate their own culpability. This stage of denial is often quickly followed by anger, at the victim or witnesses for exposing the offender, at the courts for aggressive prosecution, at one's lawyer for failing to effectively defend the offender, at the jail guards for treating the offender poorly, at family members for their lack of support, and finally at oneself for making stupid choices. Sometimes this stage is followed by bargaining, where the offender decides to push for a plea deal rather than face a trial. This stage also includes bargains with God: "Just get me out of this, and I promise to live right from here on out!" Before long, usually within weeks or a month or two, depression sets in. In my own experience, this stage is the longest, although I found myself reverting back to anger from time to time. It sometimes takes a while to get to the point of acceptance.
Acceptance is not, as one student asked the professor, giving up. It is not resigning oneself to the plight one is in. It is acknowledging that one cannot change the past, including one's own mistakes. It also means recognizing that some consequences cannot be avoided, but they can be embraced as a means to molding and shaping one's character. It means learning to use what are otherwise unfortunate and tragic circumstances to make a positive impact wherever one is, now and in the future.
It is when one comes to the point of acceptance that true transformation begins to occur in one's life. Getting to this point doesn't mean never making stupid decisions or choices again. But it means being more introspective and self-aware. It means fostering hope in a better future and taking steps to ensure that happens.
When I came to the point of acceptance in my own cycle of grief, it changed the way I looked at my future. For my first few years in prison, while I was simply trying to survive the challenges of prison, I was also unsure if there was going to be any life for me after prison. I didn't feel very hopeful in my chances, and I'm a pretty hopeful person. But when I came to a point of acceptance, I decided to be intentional about preparing myself for eventual release and to do what I could to help others do the same. This has given me purpose, and I have found it highly rewarding. It hasn't been easy, and I doubt it ever will be, but I find the acceptance stage much more peaceful to live in, even if I still cycle back to other stages from time to time.
Friday, August 4, 2017
Calvin College Holds Picnic for Families of Prisoner Students
I am blessed to be one of now 57 Michigan prisoners who are Calvin College students in prison. Each of us was accepted into the Calvin Prison Initiative (CPI), and we attend college classes at the Handlon Correctional Facility in Ionia, Michigan. The Handlon campus (in prison) is a fully accredited extension of the Calvin College main campus, and classes are taught by professors with impressive credentials. Each CPI student is working towards a bachelor's degree in Ministry Leadership with a minor in Social Work.
On July 29th Calvin College held a picnic at the main campus in Grand Rapids, Michigan for loved ones of CPI students. This picnic was an opportunity for the families and friends of the CPI students to enjoy a meal provided by Calvin College and to get to know some of our professors, tutors, mentors, the program's co-directors, and the Handlon prison's Warden Dewayne Burton who has been an incredible advocate and supporter of the CPI program.
After a delicious meal, the CPI students' families and friends who attended the picnic watched and listened to several presentations, including pictures and video of the CPI students, and presentations by co-director Dr. Todd Cioffi and Warden Burton. Although we CPI students were not allowed to attend the picnic (for security reasons), we have heard reports already from our loved ones who attended and who were blessed to hear about the positive work of the CPI students at Handlon.
Some of the highlights shared by Warden Burton included: CPI students tutoring Jackson College prisoner students who are attending classes under Pell grants, CPI students facilitating math, algebra, and geometry classes for the Vocational Village trades students at Handlon, CPI students assisting the employment readiness program at Handlon by helping prepare returning citizens for success upon release from prison, and CPI students cultivating and growing vegetables for donation to programs outside of prison. The picnic program also included highlights from the Restorative Justice conference organized by several CPI students and attended by over 300 people in April.
Those who attended this CPI picnic saw firsthand that prison does not have to have the negative stigma so often attached to it by the media. Even though its reach does not yet extend to all of Michigan's prisons, Calvin College and the CPI program are beginning to change the hearts and minds of Michigan's prisoners, and which time perhaps it will change the culture of Michigan's prisons as well.
For more information about Calvin College, visit www.Calvin.edu
On July 29th Calvin College held a picnic at the main campus in Grand Rapids, Michigan for loved ones of CPI students. This picnic was an opportunity for the families and friends of the CPI students to enjoy a meal provided by Calvin College and to get to know some of our professors, tutors, mentors, the program's co-directors, and the Handlon prison's Warden Dewayne Burton who has been an incredible advocate and supporter of the CPI program.
After a delicious meal, the CPI students' families and friends who attended the picnic watched and listened to several presentations, including pictures and video of the CPI students, and presentations by co-director Dr. Todd Cioffi and Warden Burton. Although we CPI students were not allowed to attend the picnic (for security reasons), we have heard reports already from our loved ones who attended and who were blessed to hear about the positive work of the CPI students at Handlon.
Some of the highlights shared by Warden Burton included: CPI students tutoring Jackson College prisoner students who are attending classes under Pell grants, CPI students facilitating math, algebra, and geometry classes for the Vocational Village trades students at Handlon, CPI students assisting the employment readiness program at Handlon by helping prepare returning citizens for success upon release from prison, and CPI students cultivating and growing vegetables for donation to programs outside of prison. The picnic program also included highlights from the Restorative Justice conference organized by several CPI students and attended by over 300 people in April.
Those who attended this CPI picnic saw firsthand that prison does not have to have the negative stigma so often attached to it by the media. Even though its reach does not yet extend to all of Michigan's prisons, Calvin College and the CPI program are beginning to change the hearts and minds of Michigan's prisoners, and which time perhaps it will change the culture of Michigan's prisons as well.
For more information about Calvin College, visit www.Calvin.edu
Thursday, July 20, 2017
Ten Important Points of Criminal Justice
On June 18th close to 125 supporters attended a Juvenile Lifer rally in Detroit, Michigan. This meeting was conducted to promote a 10-point criminal justice reform package put together by the rally organizers. Numerous prisoner advocacy organizations, including Humanity for Prisoners, support this 10-point reform platform.
With an annual budget of over $2 billion for corrections spending in Michigan, and the sentencing laws and policies of Michigan ensuring an ever-growing population of incarcerated individuals, something must be done soon to stop the hemorrhaging of Michigan citizens' tax dollars. Smart prison and criminal justice reform will allow the State of Michigan to invest tax dollars in other much needed areas, including education, and infrastructure, while not increasing the state's crime rates. The 10-point platform includes:
1. Abolish life without parole (LWOP) sentences for all juvenile offenders and impose 25- to 60- year sentences on all juvenile lifers when they are resentenced.
2. Restore good time eligiblity so prisoners can earn early release for completion of rehabilitative programming and demonstration of positive behavior.
3. End truth in sentencing, which is largely responsible for maintaining a large prison population, despite a widely recognized consistent statistical drop in crime for several years.
4. End mandatory minimum sentences and give discretion to judges to impose sentences based on all the facts of an individual case since no two cases are the same.
5. Institute presumptive parole for prisoners who complete all program requirements and screen high probability of parole so prisoners are not arbitrarily denied paroles they have fairly earned.
6. Stop sending women to prison who have been the victims of violence for defending themselves against their abusers.
7. Increase rehabilitative programming opportunities for all prisoner demographics, including those serving long sentences since 95% of all prisoners will become returning citizens one day.
8. Allow the Parole Board to obtain jurisdiction over prisoners serving long indeterminate sentences and begin annually reviewing them for parole consideration after they have served 20 years.
9. Allow prisoners serving parolable life sentences to become eligible for parole/release annually after serving 20 years; and allow prisoners serving non-parolable life sentences to become eligible for parole/release annually after serving 25 years.
10. Reduce the exorbitant cost of prisoner phone calls from $0.20 per minute to $0.10 per minute to help prisoners maintain family and community ties and foster rehabilitation.
If you support these smart reforms, please register your support at the following website:
www.TinyURL.com/mipr2017
Also, please post a link to the above website on your social media urging other Michigan taxpayers to support these important criminal justice reform issues.
With an annual budget of over $2 billion for corrections spending in Michigan, and the sentencing laws and policies of Michigan ensuring an ever-growing population of incarcerated individuals, something must be done soon to stop the hemorrhaging of Michigan citizens' tax dollars. Smart prison and criminal justice reform will allow the State of Michigan to invest tax dollars in other much needed areas, including education, and infrastructure, while not increasing the state's crime rates. The 10-point platform includes:
1. Abolish life without parole (LWOP) sentences for all juvenile offenders and impose 25- to 60- year sentences on all juvenile lifers when they are resentenced.
2. Restore good time eligiblity so prisoners can earn early release for completion of rehabilitative programming and demonstration of positive behavior.
3. End truth in sentencing, which is largely responsible for maintaining a large prison population, despite a widely recognized consistent statistical drop in crime for several years.
4. End mandatory minimum sentences and give discretion to judges to impose sentences based on all the facts of an individual case since no two cases are the same.
5. Institute presumptive parole for prisoners who complete all program requirements and screen high probability of parole so prisoners are not arbitrarily denied paroles they have fairly earned.
6. Stop sending women to prison who have been the victims of violence for defending themselves against their abusers.
7. Increase rehabilitative programming opportunities for all prisoner demographics, including those serving long sentences since 95% of all prisoners will become returning citizens one day.
8. Allow the Parole Board to obtain jurisdiction over prisoners serving long indeterminate sentences and begin annually reviewing them for parole consideration after they have served 20 years.
9. Allow prisoners serving parolable life sentences to become eligible for parole/release annually after serving 20 years; and allow prisoners serving non-parolable life sentences to become eligible for parole/release annually after serving 25 years.
10. Reduce the exorbitant cost of prisoner phone calls from $0.20 per minute to $0.10 per minute to help prisoners maintain family and community ties and foster rehabilitation.
If you support these smart reforms, please register your support at the following website:
www.TinyURL.com/mipr2017
Also, please post a link to the above website on your social media urging other Michigan taxpayers to support these important criminal justice reform issues.
Tuesday, July 11, 2017
Safety or Accountability? Information Censorship in America
During the 2011 Arab Spring uprising in Egypt, the authoritarian powers chose to temporarily shut down the Internet in an attempt to stop the flow of information and to censor the anti-regime rhetoric that was spreading like wildfire. The Egyptian authorities mistakenly believed that censoring access to information could stop a revolution from occurring in their country. This attempt at information censorship was designed to prevent the public from holding the authorities accountable for their corruption.
Just last week another attempt at information censorship occurred. This time though, the censorship didn't occur in a repressive and authoritarian Middle Eastern country. It happened right here in Michigan.
Whenever a news story runs on local television that reflects badly in some way on the Michigan Department of Corrections (MDOC), prisons often shut down the local news channels within the prison in an attempt to censor our access to information. This occurred several months ago when a prisoner died at one prison as a result of being tasered by a corrections officer. It also occurred this past week when a prisoner killed his bunkie at another prison. The department also cuts articles about the MDOC or about specific prisoners out of the newspapers before delivering them to prisoners who subscribe. Obviously, censoring the local news stations and cutting out articles does not keep us prisoners from hearing about what happened through other channels.
The MDOC may have different motives for their censorship than keeping us from holding them accountable. More than likely their reason involves security of the institution, preventing riots and protests within prison. Some of this is a hold-over from the department dealing with riots several decades ago. However, the department also knows that the public is less likely to care about a death or department error within a prison setting than do those of us in prison. They know that advocacy and activism that occurs outside of prison often starts with those of us on the inside.
Whether or not the department's concern is safety or simply protecting themselves from accountability, in 2017 information censorship should not be unfathomable within the United States--even in prison.
Just last week another attempt at information censorship occurred. This time though, the censorship didn't occur in a repressive and authoritarian Middle Eastern country. It happened right here in Michigan.
Whenever a news story runs on local television that reflects badly in some way on the Michigan Department of Corrections (MDOC), prisons often shut down the local news channels within the prison in an attempt to censor our access to information. This occurred several months ago when a prisoner died at one prison as a result of being tasered by a corrections officer. It also occurred this past week when a prisoner killed his bunkie at another prison. The department also cuts articles about the MDOC or about specific prisoners out of the newspapers before delivering them to prisoners who subscribe. Obviously, censoring the local news stations and cutting out articles does not keep us prisoners from hearing about what happened through other channels.
The MDOC may have different motives for their censorship than keeping us from holding them accountable. More than likely their reason involves security of the institution, preventing riots and protests within prison. Some of this is a hold-over from the department dealing with riots several decades ago. However, the department also knows that the public is less likely to care about a death or department error within a prison setting than do those of us in prison. They know that advocacy and activism that occurs outside of prison often starts with those of us on the inside.
Whether or not the department's concern is safety or simply protecting themselves from accountability, in 2017 information censorship should not be unfathomable within the United States--even in prison.