The contrast of my world and the prison system

This morning I took a break from writing to get a haircut. Since the St. Michael's confirmation class gets confirmed on Saturday and I preach on Sunday, I need to look more like a seminarian and less like Sasquatch.

Thus, I left the apartment, walked up Oxford Street, hung a left at Sacramento, proceeded onto Mass Ave and, eventually, the barber shop. The sunlight felt strong, but the cool breeze kept the temperature pleasant. Flowers bloom everywhere, most of which I cannot identify.

The route takes me past the Baldwin Elementary School. Kids fill the small playground with laughter and excitement as though they could smell summer vacation (or the weekend, for that matter). Further up Sacramento opposite the school is a community garden. Surrounded by short fence, the garden looks crowded yet busting with a variety of plant life.

Even though I've lived here since September, I never adopted the neighborhood as my own. Such is the life of a residential graduate student planning to leave in June. The gift, though, is that these last weeks have a special feel to them. I'm appreciating these little Cambridge discoveries, knowing that I won't have much longer to enjoy them here.

How fortunate I am to have freedom to explore a side street normally off my radar. How blessed I am to have two legs which carry me from place to place. How wonderful it is to see a vibrant community in the freshness of spring and Eastertide.

...And, what a contrast this moment is to the life of the approximately 2.5 million inmates in American prisons. The fences, the recess on a blacktopped-enclosed space, my freedom to maneuver... all these reminded me what I have learned this semester in the "Prison Abolition" course taught at EDS by Rev. Canon Ed Rodman.

In short, the prison situation is a revolving-door mess. We are putting more and more people behind bars, disproportionately people of color, especially young African American males. When they are released - as 98% are, eventually - ex-offenders come out more hardened than "rehabilitated." They often lack the support needed to reenter the community: job skills, mentors, mental health counseling, access to living-wage employment, just to name a few. Too frequently, they wind up violating their probation and returning to jail either because of a minor offense or because they returned to crime.

A few years ago I worked with a federal Weed and Seed site in Bucks County, Pennsylvania. The idea was to work comprehensively with an at-risk neighborhood to reduce crime. One of the initiatives included a reentry program for ex-offenders. It was a challenge getting consistent participation. At that time, I simply had no idea how overwhelming and interconnected the problem is. Unfortunately, our prison system has become part of the problem.

The core text for the class has been When the Prisoners Ran Walpole: A True Story in the Movement for Prison Abolition by Jamie Bissonette. The book chronicles how a coalition of prisoners, concerned citizens, and progressive government officials worked together in the early 1970s to make Walpole a more effective (and more humane) facility. Ultimately, though, racial tensions and resistance from the guards collapsed the experiment.

One of the reformers was John O. Boone, the Commissioner of Corrections for the state of Massachusetts during the early 70s. In 2002, he spoke at the Critical Resistance conference to a group of younger people about reform. When they asked him how they could engage with guards to improve the system, he gave the following reply:

I think you all have a lot of energy and a lot of good ideas but I don't think you should be talking about reform. You can't reform this corrupt system. It is rotten to the core. Abolishment is the only course of action. And don't say it can't be done. I have seen a lot of abolishment in my lifetime. I only wish I was as young as you. (Bissonette, page 50)

Obviously, almost everyone wants safe streets, a fair system of law and order, and crime deterrence policies that do more good than harm. I haven't done enough research to advocate specific public policy changes. I'm not sure if I agree with Boone's shocking declaration, or if such a radical step is even possible. For now, I am as grateful to have my eyes opened to the Prison Industrial Complex, almost as grateful as I am for walks in the springtime.