Facts Matter. Paula, Atticus, and Me.

A lot was made in here over Chef Paula Deen’s disclosure that “once…thirty years ago…” she’d used the dreaded “N” word.  As with most things that happen on the outside, I am constantly amazed at the direction conversations take after news stories – if you consider some obese Southern chef’s use of a derogatory word newsworthy – break.

Guys in here have skewed ways of looking at things.  What with the prevalence of quasi-religions formed on racial myths, there is a huge distortion of fact from fiction.  Conspiracy theories abound on every subject under the sun.  History revisions occurs more frequently than my ex rewriting our twenty-eight years together.  So, I take most of what I hear in stride, chalking up the ridiculous points being made to sheer ignorance.

But, anything involving race gets magnified in here (can’t wait to see how the George Zimmerman murder trial plays out!).  And, Paula Deen’s idiotic handling of an embarrassing remark is no different.  As the news made major hay out of her ignorant behavior (have you noticed how everyday we have to have “breaking news”?), the guy in the bunk next to me asked me if I thought she deserved to be fired.  “That’s not the question”, I told him.  My prior “legal life” taught me that you can be fired for a good reason, a bad reason, or even no reason, just not an illegal reason (i.e.:  because of race, creed, sex, religion, national origin or sexual orientation).

The real question is, in a free society what’s off limits anymore?  If the “N” word is offensive, then it should be held as such regardless of the user.  And, at that precise moment, my next door neighbor had B.E.T. on showing yet another rap video built around drugs, drinking, scantily clad women, and dropping the “N” word.

“You glorify this stuff and these performers who cause much more damage in the black community than anything some overweight redneck cook from Savannah could say.”  He looked at me for a second, said that there’s a difference between a black artist using the term and a white southerner.  Fair enough, I responded.  And just then, it happened.   One of his buddies walked up to us and said, “Hey Dom, my main Ni—a from home just got here.  He’s a bad M—f—n—a!”  I looked at Dom and said, “Case closed”. 

People say and do stupid things.  Or as Atticus Finch told his young daughter “Scout” in “To Kill a Mockingbird”, “you never know what someone’s going through ‘til you walk around in his shoes.”  It is important to remember that Atticus told his daughter that after she asked him if he was a “n---- lover” for defending a black man accused of raping a white woman in a small, 1932 Mississippi town.

“Don’t say n---- Scout.”  And then, he proceeded to explain to his daughter that he took that case because if he hadn’t, “I couldn’t hold my head up and look you and your brother in the eyes.”  It was that book and Gregory Peck’s portrayal in the movie that led me to want to be an attorney.  I learned early in my legal career, however, that no matter how gifted I was as a trial attorney, I was no Gregory Peck.  Life, outside of celluloid, is much more nuanced.  Clients, case decisions, aren’t as black and white as Atticus Finch confronted.

This blog is not in defense of Paula Deen.  She said numerous stupid things and followed them up with a defense that only reinforced the public’s opinion that she is ignorant.  What this is about is seeing the big picture, the human frailty in all of us to be the next Paula Deen.

There has been a heavy concentration of blog responses recently about my “right” to describe life in here.  I accept and welcome that discussion.  But, discussions must be based on facts.  As the late Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan put it, “Every one is entitled to their own opinion, but not their own facts.”  Paula Deen has an opinion; it just doesn’t match with reality.  Just like the ignorant men in here with their conspiracy theories and arguments, their opinions don’t align with the facts. 

Here are the facts:

The United States has the highest percentage of its population incarcerated.  The number of citizens in the U.S. under some form of correctional control is now 1 in 33.  When Ronald Reagan was President it was 1 in 78.  We have 5% of the world’s population and 25% of the world’s inmates.  About 65 million Americans have a criminal record.  The U.S. prison system costs nearly $60 billion a year.  In 1985, that cost was slightly less than $9 billion.

The risk of going to prison does not act as a deterrent to the commission of most crimes.  Fact is, most people misidentify the risk of being caught and the resulting punishment. 

There is no correlation between length of sentence and re-offending.  In fact, the studies done on nonviolent offenders sentenced to prison actually conclude that exposure to violent prison conditions leads to increased recidivism.

Those are the facts.  Economically, prisons fail at their mission.  Rehabilitatively, they likewise fail.  Philosophically, what does it say about this country – and the ethic of the citizenry that we will accept a failed system that destroys lives in the name of corrections?

Prison reform is coming.  And, surprisingly, it is being pushed by Conservative Republicans who see corrections as a gar hole that accomplishes no redeeming social policy, as well as Evangelical Christians who ask, “What would Jesus do?”  Jesus, I am confident, would be (and is) ministering to those behind bars.

As for me, my life is an open book.  As the one commenter who knows me already knows, my life is on the blog.  And while the writer’s opinion of me isn’t very flattering, neither is it factually accurate.

For one thing, DOC in Virginia does not allow inmates access to the internet (some states do).  I provide my observations to a person’s blog for free and handwritten.  Those blogs are then typeset.

Second, my guilt was never in doubt.  At no time did I seek a plea deal or offer any medical or addiction cause for my actions. In a seven minute address to the court on the day of my sentencing, I acknowledged sole responsibility for my actions.  I apologized to my family, my employer, friends and the community.  I told the judge I deserved incarceration.  I then asked him to temper his sentence to give me an opportunity to correct the wrongs I committed.

I have never once “whined” about being sent to prison.  I broke the law and knew there was the likelihood of my arrest and incarceration.  In fact, I consider my arrest a turning point in my life.  For too long I lived with guilt knowing I was living a lie.

And my Atticus moment – I’ve learned that most people are decent.  There are some who are evil and need to be separated from society and prison – safe, secure, well-maintained prisons – are needed for them.

But for the vast majority of men and women put in prison, the experience leads to a life of despair and failure.  Surely, a nation with the intellect, character, and fortitude of this one can do better.  “Walk in another man’s shoes”, urged Atticus. 

People don’t know why I did what I did.  And, that’s ok.  But, I ask you to consider:  Consider being desperate to get your spouse back from sadness and depression.  You make the decision, you violate your own moral code and you feel like hell.  But, it works.  And, you always come back to that approach whenever things are tough because it works.

I won’t go into detail and if I had to do it over I would have made different decisions all the way back to college.  And, whether you think that warrants my behavior doesn’t change the fact that prisons fail and America can, and must, do better.

The Joshua Principle

This past week I found myself thinking back to an incident during my time at the receiving unit.  I had been placed in a cell with a psychotic 24 year-old gang leader beginning a 76 year sentence for the double murder of two rival gang members.  A day or two after my arrival, he asked me to read his appeal.  He wanted to make sure his court appointed lawyer wasn’t “screwing” him over.  What I read chilled me.  I realized I was in an 8 X 8 cell with a man who had no conscience.

One particular incident stood out in the paperwork.  He had held a gun pressed against the head of a six month old baby to force the parents to turn over a few thousand dollars in cash.  I couldn’t imagine such cold, detached behavior.  His eyes were black as coal.  He showed no empathy, no humanity.  He was prescribed psychotropic drugs to control his anger and stop “voices” he heard.  He pocketed the pills and sold them around the facility.  He preyed on the weak. On more than one occasion I saw him physically hurt another inmate.

By the time I met him I’d been in jail a little more than a year.  Shortly after my arrest I had contemplated taking my life.  I was afraid, lonely, and hopeless.  God, however, had other plans for me.  During my time at the jail I faced a number of difficult days.  On more than one occasion, my life was threatened.  Yet, I was never afraid.  I had made a deal with God in the jail and was sure, no matter what I faced, I’d be alright.

But prison receiving on this morning would test my belief.  Every morning at 5:00 am there was a standing count.  Every morning I stood.  Every morning, my cellmate lay in bed and yelled expletives at the officers.  On this particular morning, my cellmate was asleep when the officers came by.  There was a mutual hatred that existed between the counting officer and my cellie.  It had grown and festered over eighteen months of fights, verbal abuse, and disrespect.  This morning, the officer decided to get even.

I stood at the end of my bunk.  “Cover your ears”, the officer said to me before letting loose with a blast on his whistle.  The sound vibrated off the cell walls and startled my cellie.  He sat up too quickly and fell off his top bunk landing with a sickening thud.  He lay motionless.  Fearing he was hurt, I walked over to him and reached for his arm.  He jumped up, ran to the cell door and unloaded verbal volley upon volley at the officer.  Then, he turned his attention to me.

Pushing me against the cell door, he screamed at me with spittle coming off his lips.  “I’ll kill you. You stand again and I’ll rip your throat open and watch you drown on your own blood!” For a second, I stood frozen.  And then, I thought about my ex-wife and sons and how I let them down.  I failed them as a husband and father.  Everything I was going through was a direct result of my bad decisions and my fears.  And I realized right then that it’s a lot worse living with shame than standing – and possibly dying – for principle.

I don’t know why, but I stepped forward, into my cellmate.  “I’ll stand up everyday” I said.  “I’m better than this place.  I’ll do the right thing and I’ll get out of here.”  I waited for the attack.  But, it never came.  My cellmate turned around and climbed back in his bunk.  The next day I moved buildings.  Shortly after that, my cellie beat a middle aged white inmate severely.  That assault led DOC to finally ship him to a maximum security prison. 

Why am I telling this story?  It’s in response to a recent posting by an “Anonymous” reader who obviously knows me from the outside yet chooses to hide behind anonymity on the blog.  I never hide the truth when I write, and I don’t make smug accusations while hiding behind “Anonymous” postings.

One of my favorite Bible verses is in the first chapter of the book of Joshua.  The people of Israel have been wandering in the wilderness for forty years being cleansed and prepared by God.  It wasn’t easy and often time they felt abandoned and forgotten by their God.  “If only we’d stayed” was a common refrain.  God never breaks His promises and the day came for them to enter the Promised Land.  Problem was, their leader, the man who led them there – Moses – had died.  Joshua, a brave, trusted leader was called on to replace Moses.

And Joshua, naturally, wasn’t sure he was up to the task.  But then Chapter 1 begins and God speaks to Joshua and gives him two profound promises.  The first, do not fear; be strong and courageous because I am with you.  The second, do not turn to the left or right, but follow My path and you will succeed at whatever I give you.

I remember the first day in jail when I read those verses and I remember the overwhelming sense of peace and confidence I felt.  And it dawned on me that Joshua wasn’t chosen because he was perfect.  Just like Moses (a murderer), Joshua was very human; he failed and sinned.  God, however, knew what was in his heart.

I am frequently asked in here about certain aspects of my faith.  Guys will misread Romans 8:28 and say “God led me to prison”.  That’s not what Paul was saying.  He didn’t say “God makes you do everything you do for a good purpose”.  No, what he said was “God causes all things to work together for good….”  That means if – and when – we screw up, if we admit it and remember God’s promises, He will set us back on the road to the Promised Land.

My life is an open book.  I am not a perfect person and I have done a number of things I’m not proud of. And, nothing weighs on me more than the loss of my wife and sons.  But I wonder, “Anonymous” if you’re willing to shed the same light on your shortcomings?  I doubt that you are.  I can figure out who you are and then write back, detailing all your indiscretions, failures and improprieties – but why bother. 

See, in some very difficult, trying circumstances, God helped me to discover the person He always saw.  The fact that it had to come out through a place like this just proves God understands irony.

One of the lessons I’ve learned is the difference between so many of the men I’ve met in here and the folks I knew on the outside is merely one of degree.  “Anonymous” bears a lot of the same cold, unempathetic world views of my receiving unit cellmate.  It’s the view that we can’t step back and spend even a moment in someone else’s shoes.

Anonymous doesn’t know my full story, doesn’t know what went on behind closed doors at my home.  Worse, Anonymous doesn’t even take the time to ask what they would have done if facing the same choices I faced.  No, instead Anonymous smugly takes shots and thinks they are justified.

As Bob Dylan prophesized, “a hard rains gonna fall”.  Everyone screws up, everyone faces that moment staring into the abyss.  And some are given a second chance, maybe even a third or fourth chance.

How you judge is how you will be judged.  Pretty straight-forward isn’t it.  It’s a reminder that we all fall short and as Atticus Finch tells his daughter Scout in “To Kill a Mockingbird”, “we have to walk around in another man’s skin to understand them.”

I like to think my five years in this wilderness – caused by my own actions – have given me an opportunity to witness the humanity that exists even in places of despair such as this.  And, my eyes have been open to the failures the system creates.  And Anonymous, you don’t know what it’s like in here and if you think some people deserve it you are closer to being like that cellmate than you know.

I learned the Joshua principle early on in jail.  Perhaps, Anonymous, it’s time you pay attention to it as well.