My Friend,
I was heartbroken when I heard the news. The anguish you must
feel right now may seem to be more than you can bear, but you are not alone. I
know that sitting in a segregated cell, far away from the people you love, not
knowing when you will breathe free air again, is the jailer’s way of
compounding hopelessness.
I want to remind you that you are still the person who
worked with all your heart to recover from addiction. You took an honest look
at yourself, and determined to become a man your sons can admire. You didn’t
blame your chaotic past for you actions; although, I wouldn’t have blamed you if
you had.
Your family was no stranger to addiction, and the men in
your life pretended to be outlaws. They ripped through the lives of others
without regard for you. You deserved better, and they deserved better from the
men who came before them.
Yet, you decided to break the cycle. You had five more years
to serve in prison, but you acted as though there wasn’t a moment to spare. I
admired you for pursuing a degree. It was a goal that few of your friends had
ever considered.
You had to subtly step away from the people in your circle
who remained hell bent on outlaw ways. I didn’t fully appreciate until later
how difficult that must have been for you. Where you come from, turning one’s
back on a friend, no matter how destructive that person may be, is a nearly
unforgivable betrayal. I respect you all the more for trying to break away. I
now understand how challenging it must have been for you to return home to the
social circles of your youth.
This may come as a surprise, but I know how you feel. I was also given a second chance at freedom, only to relapse - spinning
out of control, committing dire criminal acts to remain high, desperately
trying to avoid the sober realization of the damage I had done to everyone I
loved. I have never in my life felt so alone.
I also know how afraid you must be right now. We live in a
society where it’s easy to throw someone away. This is how the criminal justice
system is designed. Specialty courts, jail/prison diversion programs, pretrial
interventions – these are alternatives to the norm.
The truth is that courts process cases, not people.
This is why the average length of sentence for those sent to
prison in Texas is more than 19 years. There are prosperous and democratic
countries in the world where it would be unthinkable to send someone away for
more than 15 years, no matter how egregious the offense. In those countries, they never give up on
rehabilitation, even for those people that Texans casually refer to as “the
worst of the worst.”
I want you to know that you are worth more than that. You
made a serious mistake. So did I. There will be a consequence for that mistake,
and it may be years before you can fully make it right. But, there must also be
a path to redemption.
A system that metes out punishment without also creating a pathway to rehabilitation cannot be called justice.
I’m writing this not to cause you more despair, but to remind
you of who you are - courageous, determined, and responsible. I want the people
in charge of processing your “case” to see you as a human being with dignity and
worth. You have value – to your sons and to your community. Our society loses
nothing if the court determines to send you to long-term intensive treatment
instead of another decade in prison;
and what we gain when you succeed is beyond measure.
Your Friend,
Doug