Are Prisoners with Long Sentences Forever Dangerous?

 Today, while I waited in the phone line, the guy behind me struck up a conversation with me. He told me he'd been to prison three times, all for short sentences. He then asked me if this was my first bit (prison sentence). I responded, "Yes, and my only one." As we talked, I mentioned that I'd been in prison for sixteen years so far. His face registered shock as he grabbed his head. "Oh my god!" he replied. "You must be dangerous!" 

After I sort of laughed inside, I told him I wasn't dangerous, and I shared about spending my prison sentence working on my thinking and behaviors. He didn't seem convinced that I wasn't dangerous, and as my turn came up next for the phone, the man behind him revealed he'd spent 25 years in federal prison. The young man about fainted. 

Lengthy prison sentences are increasingly common, especially in Michigan. However, much research has shown that long sentences do not make communities safer. Most prisoners serving long sentences have aged out of crime or have completely changed their lives. These long sentences are a waste of state resources. 

In a recent edition of SADO's Criminal Defense Newsletter (Dec. 2024-Jan. 2025, Vol. 48, Iss. 3 & 4), an article highlighted the length of sentences for prisoners in Michigan. It was not surprising to me, but perhaps astonishing for some, that Michigan has the highest percentage in any state of prisoners serving more than 10 years in prison. 

Nationally, 17% of prisoners have served more than 10 years in prison. In Michigan, 32% of prisoners have, and 41% will have to. That's an abysmal statistic! 

These sentences are usually, though not always, a result of serious crimes. But long sentences, especially without good time like Michigan lacks, are not always the most just solution to crime. In fact, Michigan's lengthy sentences disproportionately affect women and people of color. 

In the last legislative session, there was a push for Second Look Sentencing, which would allow judges to reduce sentences for prisoners who had met certain behavior and time served criteria. This legislation had a lot of support in the Michigan legislature, but legislative leadership refused to bring it up for votes. Now, we have new leaders who still refuse to entertain these reforms, despite the staffing problems with Michigan's prisons. For some reason, this state is entrenched in the belief that the prison industry must defend and keep its old ways of thinking, at all costs. 

My guess is that it's reactionary citizens and legislators who, like the guy in the phone line, have misconceptions about prisoners serving long sentences. In my experience, it is these prisoners who have become, by and large, the system's model prisoners. Perhaps instead of vilifying us, the system (and society) could learn something from us who have had to confront our demons and have used the harms we've caused as motivators to change. 

I don't want people to fear me, whether it's in prison or out. Instead, I'd rather be seen as a part of society's solutions, not as an intractable part of its problems. That's a big part of what's motivated me to change. Perhaps the legislature could learn a little lesson from my experience and become a part of the solution, too.

How I've Learned to be a Person of Influence in Prison

One of the most important lessons I've learned in prison is the importance of community. I've written about this before, but we don't live in isolation. Our behavior affects others in ways we can't even anticipate or imagine. But, we're also not alone. We don't have to struggle alone, don't have to be so self-reliant that we avoid asking for help. 

Throughout my years in prison, I've cultivated relationships with men who I trust to help me identify blind spots, guide me when I'm confused about what to do, and generally to encourage me to grow spiritually, emotionally, and psychologically. There aren't a lot of men I trust like that, but there are some remarkable men of God in prison! It's encouraging to know that God's redemptive work even extends to prison. 

The problem is that most of my male support network is in prison, and I'm leaving soon. Prison and parole rules prohibit communication between prisoners in different prisons and between parolees and prisoners. Since I have been isolated in prison for these years, I haven't developed many spiritual mentors outside of prison. But, I'm confident that God will work that out. I just have to stay committed to cultivating these kind of important relationships.

I'm profoundly grateful for the positive influence my mom, girlfriend, one brother, and a couple of friends have had on my life over the years. Yes, I've had to put in the work to change my thinking and to become consistently driven by my values, but that work is so much easier when you have positive reinforcement. 

It would have been easy for the people I love and who love me to give up on me when I made some of the worst choices I've ever made. Many did give up on me. But those who chose to stick with me are a large reason for the man I am today. This is one reason why the lessons I've learned about the importance of community have had such a positive impact on my life. 

When I was in the Calvin Prison Initiative and attended the Celebration Fellowship church at a prison in Ionia, Michigan, my thinking and the choices I made were literally influenced by these communities. And I continue to be influenced by the "community" of loved ones who speak truth and encouragement into my life. 

Soon, I'll be joining other communities. I'm not sure where I'll fit in, but I'm confident that I'll find my place. I'm confident in this because I already feel like I have a place in the hearts of my loved ones. And love is not a limited resource. It's a multiplying factor. 

I hope that I can be the kind of person who loves others through their worst choices. It's far easier to judge from a distance. The more difficult choice is to choose to take the risk of investing in someone who's already proven that they can make stupid choices. That's another valuable lesson I've learned and am still learning from those who love me--the difficult things are the things worth doing. And loving people (me, for example) through their worst has GOT to be one of the most difficult things those who love me have ever done. 

Every choice we make, but especially the kind of people we chose to be, influences others in ways we may never know. I hope that the changes I've made over the years yield a good return for those I love who have invested so much. Thank you to all those who chose to do the hard things.

Unadulterated Truth is Necessary for Healing

It's that time of year when the weather starts to turn warm, and prisoners shed their coats and hats to walk around in shorts and t-shirts. The temperature isn't yet 60F, but that doesn't stop anyone.  The sun is shining, the yard is open...it's a good time to be outside. Yet, some prisoners aren't outside. They're inside playing cards or dominoes. And some are meeting in the school building for an addiction recovery group called Breaking the Chains.  I facilitate this addiction recovery group, and on sunny, warmer days, it's a little tough to keep my heart in the group. I'd rather be outside enjoying the sun. But then I remind myself that the forty-some other prisoners could be out enjoying the sun, too. These guys are committed to the process, and that helps me keep my heart in it, too.  Two of the most important elements of Breaking the Chains is our emphasis on getting to the root of each person's addiction, and making a commitment to deal only with the truth. Simply stopping an addiction almost always results in the problem showing up somewhere else in a person's life. Drinking and drugging become sex and gambling addictions, for example. Unless, of course, the pain, trauma, or other root of addiction is confronted and healed. This process requires a radical commitment to truth, too. Telling just some of the truth can start someone on the path of recovery, but true recovery, the kind that helps you turn your life around and thrive, requires cold, hard truth.  That's the funny thing about healing of any kind, including healing from addiction--only the truth can set you free. Justifications, blame-shifting, and minimizing only lead to more bondage. These things keep you stuck in the pain instead of freeing you to leave the past in the past in the past and discover your purpose and reach your potential.  I know some of the guys in group are there because they want to impress the parole board. That's okay. I hope they pick up something along the way that helps them find their path to freedom. The rest, though, they're making the hard choices. They are doing the work of letting go of old thinking and habit patterns and forging a new path free from the shackles of the past.  It's incredibly powerful and encouraging to hear these guys incorporating what we talk about in class into their everyday lives. It's also empowering to hear them tell stories of sharing their insights with their families. It's humbling to know that I'm a part of changing family trauma patterns in any way. It helps, just a little bit, heal the pain I carry from the trauma I've caused.  Now, THAT'S the truth!