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

Some Highlights from the EXPO Gala, Held October 5

 

Some Highlights from the EXPO Gala, Held October 5

By Sherry Reames

 

I bought tickets for this year’s EXPO (EX-incarcerated People Organizing) celebration and fundraiser primarily because I wanted to hear the guest speaker, Susan Burton. Ms. Burton’s organization, A New Way of Life, is providing a transformative model of housing for formerly incarcerated women, as many of us learned from Delilah McKinney when she spoke at the MOSES Lunch and Learn in May. 

 

Each Gala attendee received a copy of the book Becoming Ms. Burton: From Prison to Recovery to Leading the Fight for Incarcerated Women. But Ms. Burton was too modest to give a very long speech. She shared a little of her own life story: falling into despair and addiction after the death of her 5-year-old son, and being sent back to prison six times because she relapsed whenever she returned to her troubled old neighborhood in South Los Angeles. What finally saved her was being welcomed into a safe and quiet home in Santa Monica, where she could genuinely start to heal from all the traumas. 

 

As a result of that experience, she decided to buy a little house and turn it into a sanctuary for a few recently released women. Today her organization has a dozen such houses in South Los Angeles, each of them providing its residents with other needed services, including assistance in reuniting with their children, and there are dozens more in other parts of the country. 

 

Ms. Burton’s program started taking root in Wisconsin, she said, when EXPO and FREE members Marianne Oleson, Tamra Oman, and Delilah McKinney came to one of her training sessions. They established the first house here in Madison with her advice and assistance, and she continues to work with them on both planning and fundraising. As she explained, “We do the work behind the hope – and hope is not free.” If the rest of us want to help provide safer, healthier housing for vulnerable women, an ideal way is to make a recurring financial donation. 

 

Besides its headline speaker, the EXPO Gala featured selected artworks and a catalog from “Art Against the Odds,” a major exhibition of works by incarcerated artists that has been shown in Milwaukee and elsewhere in Wisconsin, but unfortunately not yet in Madison because of last-minute snags at our Museum of Contemporary Art. This wonderful collection is reportedly still in need of a permanent home. 

 

The program at the Gala also included awards and brief speeches by some heroic members of the community who are doing vital work on behalf of incarcerated and formerly incarcerated people. This year’s honorees: (1) Cheri Branham, a social worker and prison doula who gave birth to her own child while in prison 10 years ago; (2) David Murrell, a former juvenile lifer who now works with incarcerated people in his position with WISDOM; (3) Peter Moreno, director of Odyssey Behind Bars, which is now partnering with the UW-Green Bay to offer Wisconsin’s first associate degree programs in the prisons; (4) Erica Nelson, director of Lift Wisconsin, which helps returnees get their drivers’ licenses back; and (5) Ruben Gaona, director of “My Way Out,” which tries to provide returnees with whatever they need, from bicycles to moral and psychological support. 

Another highlight of this sold-out event was the company! People were connecting and reconnecting throughout the enormous Monona Terrace dining room. I happened to be seated next to Jeffrey Stovall, the principal of Wright Middle School, and enjoyed hearing news about  that school (where I used to volunteer as a tutor) and the work of Jeffrey’s wife, who owns a home in Milwaukee for women re-entering the community after incarceration. Pam Gates reported that she had the honor of sitting next to Eugene Nelson, who has worked with Project Return in Milwaukee for six years, helping people get back on their feet after incarceration. After his own 21-year incarceration for a crime he didn’t commit, Eugene is very proud of his work, his clients, and most of all of his tiny daughter, who had just celebrated her first birthday!

 

Meet Returning Citizen Daniel Mayer

Meet Returning Citizen Daniel Mayer

By Ken Warren

 

Daniel has spent most of his 28 years of life as a boy and young man near Crystal Lake, Ill., in the greater Chicago area. His parents are both retired, but his father operated his own HVAC business for many years while his mother was a registered nurse. He has three sisters and one brother, all older than him. He graduated from high school in Huntley, Ill., in 2015.

 

In 2020, he and a female friend moved to the Janesville area, where Daniel began attending Blackhawk Technical College to study accounting. He successfully completed one year of classes but made some unwise choices that led to criminal charges. As a result of those charges, he was sentenced in 2022 to three years of probation. In May of 2023, his probation was revoked. He had not re-offended in any way but was found to have violated some of the terms of his probation. Daniel spent the rest of 2023 and until May of 2024 in Dodge and Oshkosh correctional facilities.

 

Although the original charges against Daniel were in Rock County, he had relocated to Dane County, developed resources in Dane County, and was placed on probation through Dane County. He was uncertain whether upon release he would be returned to Rock or Dane County. He had made up his mind to refuse a return to probation unless it was in Dane County, because he felt that he had no resources in Rock County. Fortunately, he was returned to Dane County and to the same probation officer, with whom he had developed some rapport.

 

Daniel says that the two hardest things to do after release are finding a residence and finding a job. The state paid for his lodging through SLIM (Sober Living in Madison) for his first two months. Daniel is still living there but now must pay rent of $575 each month. Finding a job is taking longer. After a few weeks, he was able to obtain part-time work as a package handler for On Trac Warehouse; however, he was terminated there the day after our interview due to “an unfavorable result” on his background check. Once again, we are reminded of the hurdles thrown up in front of returning citizens who just want to become contributing members of our community.

 

JustDane has been an important resource for Daniel. He began classes through JustBakery on nutrition and management on June 10 and will soon complete those classes. He will become eligible for employment through JustBakery 90 days after completing the classes. Recently a local pastor gave Daniel a car, which provides important ease of transport. Before getting the car, Daniel got bus passes through JustDane, which now provides him some gas cards. Daniel reports that another important resource for him has been his Circles of Support group. They continue to give him ideas for resources and also provide encouragement and a listening ear.

 

Daniel is excited for the future. On Aug. 26, he was able to resume his studies in accounting at Madison College, which he hopes to finish by the autumn of 2025. He will then be able to pursue a career in the accounting field. He hopes to stay in the Madison area for many years to come, because he appreciates the community. The only concern he has regarding Madison is the higher cost of living, particularly apartment rental costs.

 

When asked about his greatest needs, Daniel responded quickly. He needs people. People to talk to. People to hang out with. It seems like such a small request, and yet it is so important for us all. Welcome back to Madison, Daniel.

Why Is MOSES Having a Gala? 

Why Is MOSES Having a Gala? 

By Mary Anglim and Joan Duerst 

 

The word gala, a festive celebration – is derived from the French word galer, which means “to have a good time, to rejoice.”

 

The mission of MOSES is to build collective power to dismantle the systems of mass incarceration and mass supervision and to eradicate the racial disparities in our community that contribute to them. 

 

Why is MOSES rejoicing? 

Imagine that you did something that harmed the community or someone in it, and that you were convicted of a crime and sentenced to years in prison. How would you feel?  Might you try to change your ways? You might study, write letters, pray, or see how your life could be different. Not only do you not want to cause harm and sadness, but you also want to be renewed, to be helpful to friends and family.   

Finally the day comes, and you are released. With the help of others, you find ways to get your life in order. You see that there are things you can do to restore your family.  You even begin to reach out to other families. With your new insights, you want to find ways to make the community safe. You dream of a place where everyone will get along — a place where everyone who needs a job has one, where everyone is safe, where everyone has enough to eat and a place to live and can enjoy life! Now how do you feel?

 Shall we rejoice with you?  Shall we have a celebration? You are making such a great difference in a difficult time that we want to tell the whole world. We want to have a GALA!  

Since 2017, MOSES has brought people together to honor and celebrate those who were incarcerated and who now are making the world a better place. One of those people had an idea: Wouldn’t it be great if there could be an occasion when we could get dressed up and meet other people who have worked to make the prison system one of compassion, one that helps people overcome the traumas of their lives, rather than a place of lifelong punishment? 

Let’s all go! Let’s do MOSES! Let’s rejoice that we have helped build power to create systems that enable people to be the best they can be! Let’s celebrate that we are dismantling disparities, so that we have communities of justice, peace, and caring! 

We will greet each other.  We will eat great appetizers and sweets prepared by the young people trained by the Goodman Center. There might be a raffle!  We will especially welcome the new awardees who have overcome the  pain of incarceration and become stars in the community. 

Sponsors and participants contribute to the ongoing work of MOSES. Those who can will add to the cost of their tickets, so that some folks fresh out of the carceral system can celebrate with us and dream of how they will make the world a better place.   

MOSES will hold its seventh annual Gala on Saturday, Dec. 14, 2024, 5:30-8:30 p.m., at the Brassworks of The Goodman Center, 214 Waubesa St. Tickets are $75/person, or $65/person for two or more registering together. Save the date! Further information will be available in October. 

  

 

Life After Prison: JustDane’s Returning Prisoner Simulation

Life After Prison: A Few Hours with JustDane’s Returning Prisoner Simulation

By Katie Mulligan

Walk a mile in someone’s shoes before you render judgment.  I had a chance to follow that familiar advice last December.

The occasion was a simulation program of what it is like for a person leaving prison and trying to survive in the outside world. JustDane, a criminal-justice organization, offered this program, in which each attendee adopted the persona of a newly released prisoner who struggles to meet such ordinary needs as food and housing.

My role-playing shoes belonged to Lester Jacoby, a Black man on parole after serving a 25-year sentence for a murder committed when he was 19. Lester had worked in the prison kitchen and hoped to go to MATC to study culinary arts. He had a temporary home in his sister’s trailer.

This simulation program was to cover the first four weeks after release from prison. Fifteen minutes were allowed to accomplish tasks typically designated for a week. A loud bell announced the end of each segment, and those not in their chairs risked a return to prison.

I found a birth certificate, transportation vouchers, and $300 in cash in Lester’s folder, along with a rubber band for my wrist. I had my first encounter with the reality of my situation when I learned that Lester had to wear an electronic monitoring device as a condition of his parole –  and use his scant funds for the privilege.

“Make sure you get your basic needs met,” urged the organizers. “Basic” didn’t mean easy. One side of the room was lined with a long table of people sitting behind signs. The first sign read “sex offender registration.” I became most familiar with the person behind the “parole officer” sign. Each of us had to sign in with our parole officer every week – or risk a return to prison.

Lester and I had a relaxed first week. “Our” sister had not yet tired of my presence. I used a transportation voucher to get my official ID and stood in line to report to my parole officer. But when I returned to my seat, I learned that my calm was undeserved.

Quite a few attendees reported that they had spent time in jail for violations of their parole conditions. The list of possible offenses was long and included failure to pay restitution, register as a sex offender, or pass a drug test. I noticed men wearing badges circling the room and reading name tags, in search of other offenders. I began to sense what it would be like to live with the constant fear of breaking a rule that could mean a return to prison.

I headed for the room containing the job center and had my first taste of a bureaucratic challenge. After spending precious minutes in the line behind the job counselor’s desk, I learned I had to wait in another line for a form. I rushed back to the table to sign in with my parole officer and waited in line again. The bell rang before I could return to the job center.

During week three, I arrived at the job counselor’s desk and pleaded for a job that would help me pursue my interest in culinary arts and allow me to move out of my sister’s trailer. The best offer was a position as a cafeteria assistant in a hospital that paid $257 a week.

By week four, I had nearly abandoned the idea of pretending I was Lester and was just angry about the incredible odds against anyone in his situation. I got the list of available apartments and found the cheapest was $625/month for a studio. By the end of the simulation, I was arguing with the person playing a social worker who advised me to get a roommate.

My last words in the simulation were, “I’m a 45-year-old Black man who was convicted of murder and has a very low-paying job. No one is going to rent to me in this market.”

What did I learn from this experience?  I knew, of course, that finding a good-paying job for someone with a prison record and minimal work experience would be difficult. But I was astounded by the number and variety of obstacles that confront someone trying to survive in a changed and challenging world.

Attendees reported that they received only a two-week supply of medication for physical and mental conditions. Many of them had a mental illness, which likely was exacerbated by their incarceration. Opening a bank account posed a whole new set of problems, but it was important for finding housing. Cell phones and credit cards were unfamiliar items. All of us struggled with transportation problems as we tried to find work and housing.

I knew that Wisconsin has a particularly shameful record concerning its rate of revocation of parole and subsequent return to prison. The state has 18 rules of supervision that include such vague requirements as “avoiding conduct not in the best interest of the public welfare.”  A person can be revoked and sent back to prison for breaking a rule that does not involve a crime. However, I did not anticipate how stressful it would be to try to find a job and a place to live while fearing I would break a rule I did not understand.

The simulation could not begin to capture what must be one of the most difficult aspects of life after release. Many people struggle alone with these demanding challenges. This idea was reinforced in the panel discussion that followed the simulation. One of the panelists, who had been out of prison for five years, said he had considered suicide two years ago. “I was saved because I could talk to my friends at JustDane,” he said. “They had become my family.”

JustDane offers programs that address many of these problems. Circles of Support is particularly relevant. Five community members meet with a person before s/he leaves prison and develop a reentry plan. Thereafter, they meet weekly for up to a year to provide support and help resolve problems. Check out the website at https://justdane.org for other efforts. The organization has an almost 50-year history (it used to be known as Madison Area Urban Ministry) and boasts a two-year recidivism rate of 9-10% for its participants, compared with the state average of 67%.