Madison Organizing in Strength, Equity, and Solidarity
for Criminal Legal System Reform

End Life Sentences for Juveniles

by | Mar 1, 2024 | Advocacy, Juvenile Justice, Newsletter, Prisons, WISDOM

End Life Sentences for Juveniles   By Margaret Irwin

 

The State of Wisconsin is inching its way toward passing a bill that would end life sentences without the possibility of parole for juveniles. Current law allows a judge to sentence offenders between 13 and 17 to life imprisonment without the possibility of parole or community supervision, no matter how many decades they will serve.

 

In December 2023, a bipartisan group of lawmakers introduced Senate Bill 801/Assembly Bill 845. It states that when the court sentences a youthful offender to life imprisonment, it must set a date on which the person will become eligible to be considered for release on parole or community supervision. Normally, this would be after 15-20 years in prison. Passing this bill would not guarantee release, but it creates a mechanism to apply for early release. It would also apply retroactively, opening the possibility of release to several dozen current prisoners who received extreme sentences during their teens. 

 

Passage of SB801/AB845 would bring Wisconsin in line with 28 states that have already banned Juvenile Life Without Parole sentences, including Minnesota, Iowa, and Illinois. The U.S. is the only country in the world that allows such sentences. The bill would also bring Wisconsin law into accord with the U.S. Constitution. In Miller vs. Alabama, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in 2012 that imposing a mandatory life sentence without parole on a juvenile constitutes cruel and unusual punishment and therefore violates the Eighth Amendment of the Constitution. 

 

The movement to ban life sentences for juveniles is also based on a growing body of scientific evidence that the brain continues to develop into a person’s mid-20s. Younger people may exhibit immaturity, impetuosity, and failure to appreciate risks and consequences. As state Sen. Jesse James, co-author of SB 801 asks, “How is a 15-year-old supposed to understand life without parole when that sentence is literally quadruple the entire time they’ve been alive? People can grow; people can change, especially when their brains are still forming. Juveniles deserve a second chance.” 

 

A report from The Sentencing Project concludes: “The evolving maturing of young adults leads to a sharp decline in criminal tendencies by the late 30s; and therefore, incarceration beyond a period of 15-20 years, even for serious crimes, produces diminishing returns for public safety. The National Research Council is the latest authority to note that long-term sentences serve little purpose other than to reinforce [retribution rather than rehabilitation].”

 

Similar bills have been introduced in the state Legislature in the past, but they never made it out of committee. Now there is some progress. The Assembly Committee on Judiciary held a hearing on the bill on Feb. 8. James Morgan and Sherry Reames from MOSES and Mark Rice from WISDOM testified in favor of the bill, and many MOSES members contacted their legislators to express their support. Since the legislative session is set to end on March 14, the bill may not pass during this session. However, the gears have been set in motion. As we know in MOSES, progress can be slow, so it’s important to keep our collective foot on the pedal.

 

Review of The Worst Thing We’ve Ever Done by Carol Menaker

by | Mar 1, 2024 | Newsletter, Racial Equity, Reviews

The Worst Thing We’ve Ever Done: One Juror’s Reckoning with Racial Injustice

By Carol Menaker, She Writes Press, 2023

Reviewed by Pam Gates

 

In 1976, Carol Menaker, a young white woman living in Philadelphia, was summoned for jury duty in a high-profile murder case. The jury was sequestered; she was separated from her husband and her life for the 21 days it took from jury selection to jury decision on the fate of a young Black man, already in prison for murder of a park policeman, who had been charged again in the murder of two white prison wardens.

 

In her one-page first chapter, Menaker writes: “I was watching for a sign, any sign, that he may not have done the horrible things he was accused of … clues that would tell me how [he] … had got himself in so much trouble. If the clues were there, I didn’t see them. I couldn’t see them. Maybe it was because I was only 24 years old. Or maybe it was because I was white and privileged.”

 

That jury convicted Frederick Burton. The judge had explained to them that under the law, Burton was guilty because he was present at the murders. Menaker accepted this information and voted with the rest of the jury, including the two African Americans, to convict Freddy Burton and go back to her own life.

 

Menaker told the story of her jury duty many times during the ensuing years; it had been a difficult experience for her, not because of the decision, but because of the sequestration. But eventually she began to wonder about the man she had convicted. She began researching Frederick Burton, trying to find out who he really was. 

 

She learned that he had been a young husband and father, gainfully employed and a community leader when he was first convicted. She learned that this initial conviction was based on false testimony obtained by brutal police coercion. She learned that it was highly unlikely he had participated in the prison murders – and that the judge’s admonition that Burton’s mere presence made him guilty was wrong. That admonition had been the basis for Menaker’s decision to convict, her basis for urging fellow jurors to the same decision. 

 

What had really gone on in that high-profile case? Menaker describes the politics in 1970s Philadelphia; it was not a good time or place to be African American. The police were brutal, at least in the African American community, and the mayor backed them up. Could an African American judge preside over a fair trial of a Black man, a Black man who had already been convicted of murdering a park police officer, under such circumstances? Menaker does not accuse the judge or other jurors of unfairness. In fact, she tries very hard to be fair to everyone involved, while telling a story in which justice was not served. But as far as is possible, she is telling only her own story – and Burton’s, as well as she is able.

 

While looking at Burton’s life and circumstances, Menaker also began reflecting on her own past, her own values and attitudes. Growing up, her only contact with African Americans had been as family servants, people dismissed as “other,” certainly by her mother. She and Burton had not been peers; the trial in which she had participated could not have been fair. All she, and likely other jury members as well, wanted was to be done with it so they could move on. 

 

This book reads very fast. It’s easy to relate to Carol Menaker if one is white and middle class, easy to understand her only vague awareness of the powerful forces of racism and police brutality in her community in the ‘70s when she was very young, fairly new in town, and had never been directly exposed to them. It is good to see her growth in awareness and her determination to make a difference for Frederick Burton, and for others — to do something to rectify the worst thing she has ever done.

Featuring a New MOSES Member: The Crossing!

by | Mar 1, 2024 | Information, Newsletter, Support MOSES

Featuring a New MOSES Member: The Crossing!

By Margaret Irwin

 

Welcome to The Crossing – a new member of MOSES!  A multifaith, progressive student ministry at UW-Madison, its home is a beautiful, welcoming building that has stood on University Avenue since 1917. The Crossing is affiliated with and supported by three Protestant denominations: the United Methodist Church, the United Church of Christ, and the American Baptist Church. It welcomes students of any or no religious background to cultivate friendships, deepen their spiritual lives through worship and discussion, and engage in justice advocacy and service. 

 

Currently, three students receive stipends to lead justice work in three areas: labor rights, immigration rights, and student food insecurity. The Crossing provides 1,000 meals monthly in the form of free hot meals, lunches, and frozen meals. The meals come from leftover food that students in the dormitories didn’t purchase. 

 

Executive Director Mike Burch came to The Crossing a year ago from Berkeley, Calif. An American Baptist minister for 30 years, Mike brings a wealth of experience as a nonprofit director, a senior pastor, and a seminary professor. Most surprisingly, at the beginning of his career, he served for a year as UW wrestling coach! Mike is passionate about reform of the criminal-legal system. Next fall, he plans to add additional stipends for student leaders in the areas of incarceration reform, housing accessibility, and racial justice. 

 

It didn’t take Mike long to get connected with Jerry Hancock of the First Congregational United Church of Christ Prison Ministry Project, and with MOSES Organizer James Morgan. This led to The Crossing becoming a member of MOSES, in collaboration with the Prison Ministry Project. Mike is eager to get students involved in the work of MOSES. In April, Talib Akbar will set up a model solitary confinement cell on the first floor of The Crossing, so students can learn about this inhumane treatment of incarcerated people. Mike also wants students to get involved in the issues surrounding re-entry. He hopes to expand work on campus to reach out to students who have been affected by the carceral system, either personally or through family members. He says there are many more such individuals than we might suspect.   

 

To sum up, Mike states that people need to get behind MOSES, which is in a position to have an immediate impact on the criminal-legal system. MOSES has great leadership, he says, and with more funding it will do even greater things. “Let’s get the community behind MOSES!” he concludes.

 

Organizer’s Corner

by | Mar 1, 2024 | Information, MOSES activities, Organizer

Organizer’s Corner

                                   By James Morgan

 

Greetings MOSES! Once again, I’d like to take this opportunity to thank each of you for your time and dedication to MOSES as we move forward in 2024 to address criminal-legal system reform and the racial disparities in education and housing that contribute to mass incarceration and mass supervision in Wisconsin. 

 

During my early tenure, we increased our membership by welcoming Middleton UCC, the Crossing UW Campus Ministry, and First Congregational UCC’s Prison Ministry Project into MOSES. Our advocacy and presence in the community has garnered the interest of the Poor People’s Campaign and the Beth Israel Center and has allowed us to engage with the Wisconsin Department of Justice in discussions about our efforts to reduce racial and ethnic disparities in our justice system, including their impact in the juvenile justice system. 

 

As your representative, I have spent time at our state Capitol testifying at Senate and Assembly hearings on two critical bills: one relating to pre-release employment opportunities for those currently incarcerated, and one relating to persons impacted by proposed legislation to retroactively require electronic monitoring (GPS) surveillance for life. I extended invitations to both the Senate and the Assembly Corrections Committees to attend the documentary screening of The 50, which was being sponsored by the Havens Wright Center for Social Justice in the University of Wisconsin-Madison Sociology Department.

 

There’s much more on the horizon! Entering into 2024, we must increase our efforts to get out the VOTE! This is a critical election season! Local, state, and national elections and who will sit in the seats determining the future of our city, state, and national offices rest with our choices and decisions to elect candidates that represent our ideals, sense of justice, and faith. Though I am not eligible to participate in our battle for democracy by voter participation, my thoughts have me considering the impact of this cycle of elections. Worldwide conflicts and social, economic, education, racial, and gender disparities are all within our purview. It is our responsibility to critically think about our vote and how we may encourage others to cast a well thought-out vote. 

 

Finally, I say to each of you,

 

Let’s do MOSES!

Book Review: What’s Prison For?

by | Dec 18, 2023 | Information, Newsletter, Prisons, Reviews

What’s Prison For? Punishment and Rehabilitation in the Age of Mass Incarceration

By Bill Keller, New York: Columbia Global Reports, 2023 

Reviewed by Pam Gates

Everyone should read this book. And I do mean everyone, at least every American. It’s short (159 pages, including footnotes), it’s concise, and it tells in a nutshell what the purpose of prison should be. And most American prisons fall far short, Keller says. We in MOSES agree with him, I’m sure, but if we could get everyone to read this book, maybe America could make real progress on the problems we have created or exacerbated by locking up so many, and especially for so long – which includes the often lengthy post-prison monitoring, where people are “locked up on the outside.”

Bill Keller is a Pulitzer Prize winner and founding editor-in-chief of the Marshall Project, a nonprofit news organization that covers U.S. criminal-legal systems. (Systems, plural, because there are hundreds in this country. “If you’ve seen one prison, you’ve seen one prison,” Keller says.) But almost all of these systems are reflected in this quotation from two French observers of the American penitentiary system, Alexis de Tocqueville and Gustave de Beaumont, in 1833 – almost two centuries ago: “While society in the United States gives the example of the most extended liberty, the prisons of the same country offer the spectacle of the most complete despotism.” Keller introduces this book with that observation.  

Keller himself starts out with some pretty damning statistics. Per 100,000 population, he writes in his introduction, “our incarceration rate is is roughly twice Russia’s and Iran’s, four times that of Mexico’s, five times England’s, six times Canada’s, nine times Germany’s, and seventeen times Japan’s.” His premise: The “American way of incarceration is a shameful waste of lives and money, feeding a pathological cycle of poverty, community dysfunction, poverty, and hopelessness.” He believes that we can change this, and with the rest of the book shows us why and how. 

We could start by imitating Norway or Germany. Those countries treat prison residents with respect; they consider loss of freedom the only punishment necessary and otherwise work to prepare residents for the freedom they will one day regain. There is a reasonable proportion of guards to residents, way different from the average U.S. ratio of roughly 21 prison residents per guard. Guards are treated with respect in other ways. Interaction between residents and guards is encouraged; playing cards, etc., with each other is encouraged. The whole arrangement is light years away from how it is in American prisons. (In fact, Keller’s last chapter is titled “The Other Prisoners,” namely, those who work as guards.) The head of the North Dakota prison system undertook in 2015 to imitate the European model just touched on. It took some adjusting, but it worked! Guards were doubtful at first, but most slowly adjusted to being a respected part of a team with the positive goal of helping those imprisoned regain a place in society.

“In the U.S.,” Keller writes, “prison work ranks near the bottom of law enforcement. The stress of the job leaves a wake of divorce, alcoholism, PTSD, and suicide. Recruitment and retention are constant problems.” But in Germany, he writes, corrections jobs are in great demand, and only about 10% of applicants make it into the training program, which is an intensive two years, in contrast with the American average of a few weeks.

Cost is another dismal aspect of our system. There are, of course, the brick-and-mortar costs, plus the costs of feeding, housing, and otherwise maintaining prisoners. And there are social costs. In 2016, a team at Washington University, in St. Louis, attempted to put a monetary figure on the “social costs” of incarceration. They estimated lost wages, costs of visitation, higher mortality rates, child welfare payments, eviction and relocation costs, divorces, lowered property values, and the increased criminality of children of incarcerated parents. Their results? $1 trillion per year, $450,000 per incarcerated person!

Other chapters in this book address race and the prison system, life after prison, women in prison, college in prison, preparing prisoners for a return to normal life, the science of crime and punishment, and how being in an American prison is like being in an “upside down kingdom” (that chapter’s title). Each chapter is short, concise, and written in an interesting, lively fashion.

Our culture of fear pushes prosecutors to send people to prison, and it is that fear, perhaps, that needs addressing more than anything else. It’s used by politicians and the media to mistreat a portion of our population and dehumanize them, encouraging a culture of “them” and “us.” A personal observation: My niece, who grew up out West in a largely white society, found this book at my house, read it, and got busy trying out Keller’s ideas on random people she encountered in her daily life. She got very positive responses. It appears that there is hope! 

A statement by U.S. Sen. Cory Booker appears at the beginning of this book and sums up its value well: “America’s unjust system of mass incarceration tears families apart, costs taxpayers billions of dollars each year, and doesn’t make our communities any safer. Bill Keller … powerfully argues that America can and must do better. To do nothing or say nothing only reinforces the current nightmare. I hope you read this book, learn, and in some way, join the growing bipartisan efforts to bring about urgently needed change.”

Amen.