The Washington Post published an editorial yesterday about alternatives to incarceration. As someone who wants to see prisons abolished, one would think that I would be happy that a mainstream newspaper like the Post is taking on the issue of the high cost of prisons and advocating for alternatives to incarceration. Instead I find the knot in the pit of my stomach just growing larger.

There has been much written in the last few months about the fact that conservative and liberal groups are finding common ground around the need to decrease our prison spending. I have listened to and read much of the commentary and have not offered any of my own thoughts to date. My silence on this matter has to do with two things. First, I am deeply uneasy about the framing of the issue of alternatives to incarceration. Second, I worry that a heavy emphasis on the budgetary costs of imprisonment misses an opportunity to educate the public about the moral and humanist reasons for why prisons need to be abolished. Specifically I worry that without making a strong moral argument for abolishing prisons, we will continue to lock up millions of people in the U.S. Once budgets are no longer constrained, what would prevent policymakers from going right back to imprisoning large numbers of people? The financial argument for closing prisons is therefore limited in its potential for fundamental transformation of the carceral state.

Below is an example of what I see as the Post’s problematic framing of this issue:

THE NAACP and Americans for Tax Reform (ATF) agree on very little. But Benjamin Jealous, president of the liberal civil rights group, recently found himself linking arms with ATF’s conservative president, Grover Norquist. The cause: prison reform.

The two view the subject through different lenses: The NAACP is primarily concerned with social injustices associated with the high rate of incarceration and the disproportionate impact on minority communities; Mr. Norquist focuses on the mounting costs to taxpayers of operating ineffectual prison systems. But both agree that millions of dollars are wasted each year on flawed policies that may not provide the best or most cost-effective means to protect society.

The editorial board makes the case that both the NAACP and Norquist come to a similar conclusion even though they offer different arguments for cutting prison costs. I think that it matters what types of arguments we use to advocate closing prisons. I think that without a focus on oppression, we cannot address the root causes of incarceration. We cannot really understand the rise of the carceral state. As such, we will only be tinkering around the edges of dismantling the prison industrial complex. This point is belied by these closing words from the Post’s editorial:

Individuals must be held accountable for breaking the law, and in many cases, especially those involving violent offenses, imprisonment is the best way to protect public safety. Record incarceration rates have helped get crime to historically low rates. But the levels of incarceration are financially unsustainable and in many instances counterproductive. While money should not drive policy in this area, the country would be foolish to forgo opportunities for sensible reforms that also ease the pressure on public coffers.

The editorial board actually makes the argument that mass incarceration has been correlated to low crime rates. This is not true. There is actually a lot of empirical evidence that contradicts this assertion. The Post adopts the view that incarceration is actually inherently beneficial to society. Their point is not to question the fundamental injustice of prisons but rather to advocate for spending less money on incarcerating people. I think that this is very problematic and ultimately serves to maintain the status quo.

I was privileged to speak to a group of first-year art students from the School of the Art Institute a couple of weeks ago. I shared my organization’s view about how art is integral to the struggle for social justice. The students later informed me that as part of their class they were supposed to undertake a community service project. They selected my organization as the beneficiary of their efforts. They decided to create mud stencils to educate the public about the costs of youth incarceration in Illinois. I am really grateful to these young people for their commitment to justice and for sharing their creativity with the public. Below is a description of their experience written by one of the students who sent this to me along with some photographs of the results of their work:

These are the pictures from our mud stenciling. We put them around the Wicker Park area. It was a really interesting process. People stopped to ask us what was going on and after we were done, we saw some people reading them from far away. We even got stopped by the cops about 5 times! We had to explain that what we were doing was legal and for public awareness against youth incarceration. (Some did not seem to agree with us very much). But overall it was a lot of fun and hopefully shed some light and awareness! It was a great intro project into getting involved with the Chicago community and we all look forward to working with [your organization] in the future.

Although no one really needs to be reminded of his greatness… I love this remake of the Beatles’ Yesterday by the great Marvin Gaye.

Regular readers might recognize the name of Jacqueline Montanez. I have previously featured a poem that she wrote titled A poem for the board.

My friends at the Children and Family Justice Center at Northwestern University Law School are working diligently to obtain clemency for Ms. Montanez. If you are not familiar with her story, here is a brief summary.

In 1992, Jacqueline Montanez was arrested for the murder of two young men – rival gang members in her Humboldt Park neighborhood.

She was 15 years old. Jacqueline was subsequently sentenced to life without the possibility of parole.

She is the only woman in Illinois currently sentenced to die in prison for a crime committed as a child.

“I did what they say I did, I am not who they say I am.”

Jacqueline takes full responsibility for her actions. She grieves for the victims and their families; she respects and honors their pain. No judge or jury ever learned what led up to the crime.

Jacqueline’s stepfather began sexually abusing her when she was just 7 years old. He beat her regularly and forced her to help sell drugs for his gang. When Jacqueline was 12 years old, she ran away from home and joined a rival gang. The victims of her crime were members of her stepfather’s gang.

Due to the nature of the charges, Jacqueline was automatically tried in the adult criminal system and received a mandatory sentence of life without parole. No judge or jury ever had the opportunity to consider her background in determining her sentence.

Here is a short video recapping her story:

You can also read about Ms. Montanez in a new Amnesty International report about juvenile life without parole.

Who is Jacqueline Montanez today?

Jacqueline has now been in prison for 20 years. Now 34, she is a talented poet who has earned her GED and is enrolled in college courses. Jacqueline dreams of one day being able to help young people escape gang activity and abuse.

How You Can Help:

To learn more about Jacqueline, please visit her MySpace and Facebook pages.

To support reconsideration of Jacqueline’s sentence, please sign her online petition.

To learn more about how you can support Jacqueline, please contact her attorneys at the Bluhm Legal Clinic: (312)-503-0396.

Please consider signing the petition for the Children and Family Justice’s Center client, Jacqueline Montanez who will be applying for clemency.

You can download a FACT SHEET about the case.

The following is slideshow of art that was submitted to an exhibition about the criminalization of race and immigration status.

Please call your state representative and urge a YES vote on House Bill 1958! More on how to do this is below.

House Bill 1958 protects pregnant women and their infants, and provides corrections with security guidelines and exceptions to insure public safety. Amendment 2 made compromises to accommodate the smaller staff of downstate sheriff departments.

* Leg irons, belly chains and similar restraints may not be used
on pregnant women because they increase risk of harm or death to the
mother and fetus.

* Handcuffs in front may be used on pregnant women during
transport, as long as they are not in labor or pregnancy-related
medical distress.

* Therapeutic restraints may be used whenever needed for pregnant
inmates who are mentally ill.

* An annual report is required to cover instances of restraints
used outside the framework, that is, when there are exceptional
circumstances. It exempts handcuffs in front used throughout
pregnancy. We need government transparency to stop abuses.

* Officers must be posted outside the hospital room AFTER doing a
security check and are to make periodic security checks. They may be in the room whenever requested by medical personnel.

One of CLAIM's clients had a late-term miscarriage (at 8 ½ months) after being brought to the hospital in a chain-belt, Chubb cuffs and leg irons in severe medical distress. Another had a still birth after being brought to the hospital in a chain-belt, cuffs and leg irons.

Neither was ever charged with a violent offense, but current law permit corrections to transport women in full restraints in late pregnancy. Two of our witnesses who submitted written testimony suffered severe depression after going through the humiliation of delivering their babies in the presence of male officers, and describe this as the worst experience of their lives. Both were in pre-trial detention for very minor offenses with no history of violence. Neither had suffered depression after the births of their older children.

Please call your Illinois state representative. You can look up your rep here. Put in your address and phone the Springfield office of your State Representative, listed here. Help us stop this human rights abuse against pregnant women!

THURS MAY 12, 2011
Jane Addams Hull-House Museum
800 S. Halsted St (Dining Hall)
5:30-7:30 PM – Zine Distribution and Reception

Co-sponsored with Jane Addams Hull-House Museum, Project NIA, the Chicago Freedom School, the Children and Family Justice Center at Northwestern University Law School and the Models for Change Initiative

You are invited on Thursday, May 12, for a celebration of the creation of two zine series that address the history and current state of juvenile justice in the United States. Come enjoy an evening of refreshments and conversation!

The Jane Addams Hull-House Museum, Project NIA, and the Chicago Freedom School will release a series of five zines to the public, created by the teaching artists, Rachel Marie-Crane Williams and Elgin-Bokari T. Smith; activist & artist, Billy Dee; and youth at the Chicago Freedom School and the Cook County Juvenile Temporary Detention Center. The zines feature the voices of those affected by the criminal legal system and also tackle the issues that affect all of our communities: the History of the Juvenile Court, Girls in the System, Youth Stories (of the Incarcerated), the School-to-Prison Pipeline, and the Prison-Industrial Complex. This zine series was developed in connection with “Unfinished Business–Juvenile Justice,” the community-curated exhibit at the Jane Addams Hull-House Museum, on view through August 2011.

The release party is being co-sponsored with the Children and Family Justice Center at Northwestern University’s Law School and the Mental Health and Juvenile Justice Action Network of the Models for Change Initiative with funding from the John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation, who are also releasing a graphic novel informing Illinois youths of their rights in the juvenile justice system. The graphic novel was created as part of a family engagement project that relied on youth and family focus groups, wherein individuals shared their experiences in the Illinois juvenile justice system. The publication was prepared for the Illinois Mental Health and Juvenile Justice Action Network by Jean Davidson Meister, project manager, and Kim Miller, both of the Illinois Children’s Mental Health Partnership; Elgin-Bokari T. Smith, illustrator, and Julie Biehl, Children and Family Justice Center, Northwestern University School of Law. Graphic design by Ashley Kittrell. The publication was developed as part of the Family Involvement Workgroup of the Mental Health/Juvenile Justice Action Network, coordinated by the National Center for Mental Health and Juvenile Justice. The preparation of this document was supported by the John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation.

We want to share these zines and handbooks with the public and those who care about reforming the juvenile justice and criminal legal systems. The work of creating a more just society continues, and we can all be part of the transformative social change through creative words and images.

You can download a flier for this event here

About the Jane Addams Hull-House Museum
The Jane Addams Hull-House Museum serves as a dynamic memorial to social reformer Jane Addams, the first American woman to receive the Nobel Peace Prize, and her colleagues whose work changed the lives of their immigrant neighbors as well as national and international public policy. The Museum preserves and develops the original Hull-House site for the interpretation and continuation of the historic settlement house vision, linking research, education, and social engagement.

The Museum is located in two of the original settlement house buildings- the Hull Home, a National Historic Landmark, and the Residents’ Dining Hall, a beautiful Arts and Crafts building that has welcomed some of the world’s most important thinkers, artists and activists.

The Museum and its many vibrant programs make connections between the work of Hull-House residents and important contemporary social issues.

About Project NIA
Project NIA’s mission is to dramatically reduce the reliance on arrest, detention, and incarceration for addressing youth crime and to instead promote the use of restorative and transformative practices, a concept that relies on community-based alternatives.

About the Chicago Freedom School
The Chicago Freedom School provides a space where young people and adult allies can study the work of past movements, deepen their understanding of current social problems, build new coalitions and develop strategies for change. We support new generations of critical and independent thinking young people who use their unique experiences and power to create a just world.

About Models for Change
Models for Change is an effort to create successful and replicable models of juvenile justice reform through targeted investments in key states, with core support from the John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation. Models for Change seeks to accelerate progress toward a more effective, fair, and developmentally sound juvenile justice system that holds young people accountable for their actions, provides for their rehabilitation, protects them from harm, increases their life chances, and manages the risk they pose to themselves and to the public. The initiative is underway in Illinois, Pennsylvania, Louisiana, and Washington, and through action networks focusing on key issues, in California, Colorado, Connecticut, Florida, Kansas, Maryland, Massachusetts, New Jersey, North Carolina, Ohio, Texas, and Wisconsin.

On the heels of reading an article about the fact that prisons in Massachusetts were donated “expired” school lunches, I came across this video by accident yesterday.

You have to see it to believe it. The Japanese have launched “Alcatraz Restaurant” complete with staged “jail breaks” and your own handcuffs.

I have previously written about the problematic nature of prison tourism. But this, well… It’s a whole other thing. The “Alcatraz Restaurant” even offers lethal injection drinks. I am NOT kidding!

By Billy Dee

I received a letter from a grandmother on the west side of Chicago last April. I will call her, Mrs. G since she asked for confidentiality. I spoke with her over the phone and she gave me permission to share her story though she asked that I not identify her family’s name for reasons that may become clearer later.

Anyway Mrs. G had heard about my organization’s work from a neighbor of hers in Austin, a community on the West side of Chicago. I don’t know about how the neighbor heard about us. Mrs. G was writing to ask for our help. Her grandson, who was 15, had committed a violent crime at 13 and he is currently locked up in one of the juvenile prisons in the state. Mrs. G is raising five of her grand kids ranging in age from 4 to 16. She informed me that she is a diabetic and is insulin dependant. Again the relevance of this will soon be clear.

Mrs. G has little social support, particularly since her grandson’s crime. His crime has alienated her even more from her neighbors. She is living on disability and has only a little financial support in the form of food stamps and medical insurance for her grand kids.

She had heard that her grandson was not doing well in prison. Mrs. G has no phone service and cannot easily make any calls to her grandson. He also cannot easily reach out to her. Over the previous 19 months, she had not talked to him at all. She did receive some letters from him but she struggles with literacy and has to dictate her response to one of her grand kids. She really wanted to visit her grandson however she did not have the funds or means of transportation to do so. She was reaching out to me to ask if my organization could either provide her with transportation to the prison or if we could provide any funds so that she could visit her grandson.

Once I received the letter, I got right back to her through her friend and told her that while this is not our regular practice, I would be happy to provide her with the $100 that it would take for her to cover her expenses to go to the prison to visit her grandson.

She got back to me in early June to say that had visited her grandson. She was grateful for our help and said that her grandson was relieved to know that he had not been forsaken or forgotten by his family. For the moment, this was a happy ending but it got me thinking about the hundreds of Mrs. G’s that have to exist just in the Chicagoland area.

What could be done to more systemically address this issue of family visits to youth prisons in Illinois? I know that my tiny, resource-strapped organization certainly can’t afford to provide $100 to each family who might be in a similar situation as Mrs. G was. And yet $100 seems to be such a small sum for the temporary peace of mind that Mrs. G and her grandson now had. I have to admit that I had not really given this issue much thought before my interaction with Mrs. G. But since her letter, I have not been able to stop thinking of the many families who want to maintain contact with prisoners but who are faced with many barriers and obstacles. This has policy consequences especially for issues of successful prisoner “re-entry”. It also has profound moral and social consequences.

Before jumping into a full fledged advocacy campaign on this matter though, I would like to know more about the process of family visits in Illinois youth prisons. I spent a little time last May doing some very preliminary investigation about prisoner family visits in the research literature. Data suggests that more than half of all prisoners do not receive in-person visits from family members (Mumola, 2000). There are a variety of explanations for why families may not visit, including distance of the prison, financial burdens, problems with the prison bureaucracy, and strained or severed relationships with the prisoner (Hairston, 2003). I wrote about some of what I found on this blog back in July of last year.

One of the interns who is working with me this year has taken on the difficult task of creating a volunteer-led and volunteer-run effort to provide free transportation to family members who have youth in Illinois prisons. We are launching this initiative this week with an orientation meeting for interested volunteers who would like to use their own cars to provide rides for our pilot program. My intern, Tobin, has spent several months working with IYC-Warrenville (our youth prison that houses young women in IL) to establish this new initiative. We will start small and will build from there depending on the response that we get from volunteers and from the families who take advantage of the free rides.

I am often asked by people how they can help to address the issues facing youth in conflict with the law. Well, the Families in Touch initiative is an easy and non-time intensive way for Chicagoans to support incarcerated youth and their families.

As promised here are my reflections from the “Searching for Kim Jones” workshop that I ran with Francesca in 2007. I am planning to replicate a similar process this Fall with more of a focus on the criminalization of black girls. I purposely chose this photo of Lil’ Kim to accompany this post because it underscores her complicated role in the culture and our own complicated responses to her.

January 21, 2008

In the fall of 2007, thirteen of us spent seven weeks together sharing what it means to be a Black woman in the 21st century. We were of varied ages from 11 to 40. We were from New York City, Chicago, Nigeria and Haiti. We were in middle and high school, college and graduate school. Initially the only thing that we had in common was our brown skin and the fact that we were women. Ultimately we became students and teachers all of us. We taught each other to share honestly and learned even more as a result. We bonded and became a small community of empowered women and girls.

Over the weeks, we shared personal reflections about our struggles with learning to love our looks in a culture that is hostile to us and sometimes makes us feel invisible. We articulated our desire to be perceived for who we really were rather than as caricatures – finger snapping, head rolling, loud, bad attitude women.

We read poetry together, watched documentaries, deconstructed music videos. We wrote about ourselves – our feelings about what the mirror said about us, what it is like to be a black girl for those who aren’t, we spoke of ourselves affirmatively to say “I AM…”

Our time together was short and we asked a lot of questions of each other and of ourselves. We asked about how Black women are perceived in society and whether this view coincides with our own definitions. We found that society’s view of us in fact does NOT accurately portray our lived experiences. Society’s image doesn’t leave room for us to be vulnerable as Black women, to cry and show emotions besides anger. It confines us like some kind of prison of expectations where we are forced to wear masks and heavy armor or risk being destroyed.

In spite of the historical and societal assaults on our persons, we found that we still maintained our sense of integrity and confidence. Some of us felt comfortable with our bodies. Others not so much. Some of us consistently mentioned our beauty – on the inside and out. Others struggled with feeling unattractive. Some of us were proud of our brown skin. Others embraced our hair in dreadlocks, braids, or straight. Some of us declared boldly that we are NOT our hair. One thing was consistent though — We are NOT what society portrays. The words that we used to describe ourselves included nice, funny, pretty, kind, …

We conjured the spirit of Sara Baartman. We elevated her from the grave of history and shone a light. Through Sara’s story, we discussed how it feels to be on “display.” It is a contradiction – our bodies put out for all to see and yet Black women simultaneously invisible. We called out to the Sara Baartmans of today, the young Black women who make their living dancing in music videos. Young women who seem so plastic, unreal and yet we know they are us too. We puzzled over the thread that connects Sara Baartman and Karin Steffans who calls herself a Video Vixen. What would Sara say if she could speak to Karin from the grave? Would she judge her or be proud? Would she be loving or mean? We believe that she would choose love.

We talked about Lil’ Kim. After all, the title of our workshop is Searching for Kim Jones, Finding Ourselves. One of our members made the point that while we used Lil’ Kim as a way for us to come together to talk, we in fact ended up talking very little about her life and image. We spent more time in self-discovery and self-excavation. Lil’ Kim provided us with a mirror to better see ourselves. Yet, we were conflicted about Kim’s significance to our lives as Black women. Some of us saw her as primarily “nasty” and others acknowledged our fascination with her as an icon of American culture. We felt sadness and confusion. We were hurt and sometimes empowered. We are seeking understanding. Who is Lil’ Kim? Who are we?

Ultimately this time together allowed us to reflect on womanhood, our personal and family histories, our bodies, our appearances, and more. In our second week together, we collaborated to develop a poem called “Woman.” Each of us contributed a line to the final product. We expressed in this collective poem what ended up being at the core of our workshop.

Woman is the basic life giver to me.
Woman is powerful.
Woman is dynamic.
Woman is distinct.
Woman is a catalyst for newfound beginnings.
Woman is brave.
Woman is a strong person.
Woman is a force of nature.
Woman is a loving soul who physically and emotionally cares for others.
Woman is all beautiful, all sense, and strong.
Woman is a gap-toothed smile, a belly laugh and all things generous.
Woman is the creator/the originator/the dominator.
Woman is the essence of everything!!

A wonderful poet named Jessica Care Moore has written a book titled “the words don’t fit in my mouth.” That is a powerful and overwhelming image. So often we as Black women, young and old, find ourselves with so much to say but with no place to say it. Our voices are so often silenced. Sometimes we try to pierce the silence with a loud, booming voice. We have so much to say and to borrow from Jessica, “the words simply don’t fit in our mouths.” We want to speak. We will speak.

This is just the beginning of our project together. We will reconvene in the spring and incorporate the voices of more young Black women and girls in our conversation. This is an ongoing dialogue; One that we hope to continue with others across Chicago, the U.S., and even the world. We will go out and collect the stories of other young Black women and then we will speak to fill the silence. We will speak…. We MUST speak so that the words will fit in all Black women’s mouths.