Saturday, April 22, 2006

Our Telos

I am writing this from a small prison cell somewhere in California.

I am writing by way of introduction. We are two young men incarcerated in the juvenile division of the California prison system. We are opening up this forum in order to accomplish something that flies in the face of the current status quo in the relationship between the criminal and the citizen, between us and society.

Bottom line, we are just a couple of young guys sick and tired of the usual way of doing time: Isolated, voiceless, and misunderstood.

Our incarceration has forced us together. However, of our own accord we have come together with a common desire burning in our hearts: to find a way to begin a meaningful dialogue with society on the issue of criminal justice (particularly, juvenile justice).

Amidst the constant speculation about who we are and what is happening to us, we also want to say something about ourselves.

Let us be clear. We don't want to bicker and complain about the criminal justice system; we don't want to lobby for support; we don't want to talk politics. Rather, we simply want to talk to society directly. We want to open up our experiences and our understanding to the public space and begin the long needed dialogue between society (the legally free) and its Other, the legally incarcerated.

For too long, public discussion on the matter of juvenile justice has lacked the voice of actual youth offenders themselves, those who are living through the interior aspect of the process.

Without this voice, the discussion has never been and will never be truly effective.

I say interior because in reality the criminal justice process (and in particular the juvenile process) in multi-dimensional. Although criminal justice has developed to conceal and exclude criminals from the sight of, and participation in, society (for the completely legitimate reason of protecting it), the fact is that society and criminals are constantly interacting.

The law mediates this interaction. It is at once a common bond and a wall of separation.

And for both it is the classic love/hate relationship. The criminal and the citizen loves and hates the law for opposite (and therefore related) reasons. The criminal loves the law because it is basically just (especially in the West) and guarantees a sentence and therefore (in most cases) a release. S/he hates it because it is basically just and demands a sentence to be served for its violation.

The free citizen loves the law because it guarantees his or her freedom and offers its protection. S/he hates it because at some point it inevitably conflicts with his or her idea of what it means to be free and protected under the law.

Often in this dynamic roles are reversed, and identities are exchanged.

In other words, both at the same time love and hate the law because its formal structure both agrees with, but is not completely consistent with, their personal ideas of justice. It is at this point where the citizen and the criminal share a common ground and concern.

As a consequence of the historical denial of this relationship and common concern, public discussion on criminal justice has also for too long assumed that criminals and citizens cannot, or should not, engage in meaningful dialogue. This assumption is simply without merit.

What if both society and the criminal were to open themselves up to one another in a cautious but honest dialogue? What if both took the step of acknowledging and addressing the actual relationship that already exists? What on earth would happen?

Would the discussion simply descend into acrimonious shouting? Would they even care to talk to one another? Would the fear and the anger, the resentment and all the rest, be simply too much to overcome? The criminal justice establishment and the State of California has long taken this position; therefore it has been the position of the majority of citizens.

And maybe it's true.

Or maybe a space can be established where there might begin a serious conversation about what justice is and ought to be from both sides of the Great Divide.

The fact is that there is but one real choice: either acknowledge and address the relationship that already exists, or deny and conceal that relationship and allow it to continue to fester at the margins of society, in the shadows of communities, and in the forgotten recesses within ourselves.

We can either acknowledge or conceal another fact: that there are people inside California prisons who care deeply about the Great Divide that so blights our society.

Some of us, though removed and concealed from public life, understand this state of affairs and realize the need for dialogue. So, we've asked ourselves, why leave the definition and protection of freedom to others, when a forum can exist where both citizens and criminals can meet upon common ground and listen to one another? What is stopping us from reaching out to citizens directly?

Criminals are guilty of violating the social contract and the public trust. In doing so, they have not only violated the law, but other persons. In serving his or her sentence, the criminal does not apprehend the authority and force of the law, then he or she does not truly reconcile himself or herself to free society upon release. So too it ought to be with the personal aspect of crime. For crime has always been, and always will remain, a profoundly personal affair. Should it not also be the case with the justice that purports to redress it?

Argument and disagreement will ensue. But we are convinced that to truly remain human, and to bring a direly needed humanizing element to the process, we must reach out to, listen to, and respect the social—both the laws and lives which we have violated by our criminal actions.

Because, in reality, there can be but one humane objective for criminal justice: Reconciliation.

How to reconcile the criminal with society, society with the criminal? Put in this way, the issue may seem remote from the lives and concerns of many ordinary people. In fact, it cuts to the heart of society (and of what it means to be a citizen) itself.

Some famous words by Dostoyevsky come to mind (who was no stranger to prison), to the effect that a society's condition can be discerned by entering it's prisons. Upon the same logic, it seems that a voice from within the prison experience itself can contribute a great deal not only to discerning the present condition of the criminal justice system, but also to discerning the present condition of society. And only an accurate understanding of the facts on the ground can lead to viable solutions.

Reconciliation is the best definition of justice, both according to the nature of the law, and in terms of the personal relationship between crime and citizens. It can encompass many things, from personal remorse and forgiveness, to social reintegration. But most importantly, it is also the only viable option for those desiring a humane and realizable solution to the problem before us.

To that end, we have chosen to open this forum with a series of articles premised upon this framing of the issues. We hope that they will spark your interest, inform you about the lives we are living, and move you to respond.

And so the dialogue begins.

2 comments:

redeemed4hisglory said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
redeemed4hisglory said...

I just wanted to say that I appreciate your desire to engage in discussion and your concern for justice. Honestly, I have never really thought of justice as being associated with reconciliation. So often I think of justice as scores being set straight and people going their separate ways. I think of forgiveness as something beyond justice and reconciliation even beyond that. To say that reconciliation is the objective of justice shows more insight into the way things should be than most people have, so thanks for that.