This was a big year for VOTE, from our large-scale policy wins, to the personal wins from each of our members. In 2019, we saw yet again that our organization is powered by the perseverance, hope, and vision of hundreds of members, dozens of partner organizations, and about 20 staffers. Here’s what this unstoppable cohort of changemakers considers to be our top 10 wins of this year:
1. Our loved ones came home
Several VOTE members or their loved ones got out of prison this year. Some of them had been locked up for more than 40 years. “I’m blessed,” says VOTE member Cornell Hood who recently came home after doing many years of a life sentence. “Being able to be free and work a stable job [is] my win.”
2. We improved our health
Getting healthy was many of our members’ top win this year. “I’m thankful to be alive and free,” says one VOTE member. We know a healthy body and mind are necessary to do this work. That’s why we partner with Tulane University to run the Formerly Incarcerated Transitions (FIT) Clinic, which provides formerly incarcerated people with quality healthcare after they come home. We’re proud to say that in the past year we’ve hired two full-time, formerly incarcerated community health workers who will be bridging the gap between FIP medical needs and the services available!
3. We had policy wins
Every fall, we work to elect the right people so that our policy proposals get into the right hands. This year we had some notable wins, like “taking a bite out of the habitual offender [three-strikes] statute,” as one VOTE member described it. We’ll come back stronger next year, with the goal of taking two or more bigger bites. Another win was the enactment of a unanimous jury requirement for sentencing someone who’s being charged with a felony, which began on the 1st of January. “I felt this win personally,” shares member Darlene Jones, who sat on a jury that ended up convicting someone for murder with only 10 out of 12 votes. She felt that “the prosecution hadn’t even proven the case.” Non-unanimous jury convictions like the one that Darlene witnessed are no longer possible as of January 1, 2019. People still awaiting trial on arrests that happened before Jan. 1 and those already incarcerated on split juries do not get the benefits of this newfound justice. In other words, our fight to make the unanimous jury law retroactive still continues.
4. We voted for the first time!
Thanks to our legislative victory last year, Act 636 went into effect on March 1 of this year. This meant that this year was the first time many people with convictions were able to register and then vote! Voting as FIP marks the restoration of one of our core civil rights. “My high moment was the fact that I was able to vote for the very first time,” says VOTE member Donald Arbuthnot. “That blew me away.”
5. Then we got out the vote
In addition to voting for the first time, countless members of the VOTE family also joined forces in canvassing, registering, and poll monitoring to make sure Louisianans voted in the fall elections. “It was a win to see young people from 21 to 23 as well as older people ages 50 and up getting involved,” one VOTE member says. “Age didn’t matter. The one goal was to get people out to vote. It’s important.” As a result, we re-elected many candidates who we believe are best suited to push justice reform with us in 2020 and beyond!
6. We re-discovered our power
As we dove into our get out the vote efforts, many VOTE members also gained a deeper understanding of what political power means, including what seats are elected, how each position works for us, and how we can hold them to what they promise to do for our communities. As our fearless leader Norris Henderson says, “I vote because I understand the accountability that comes with it.” This year, more members than ever before also testified in front of elected officials, whether in the chambers of New Orleans City Council or in halls of the Louisiana State Capitol. “I spoke in front of both the City Planning Committee and the City Council for the first time to voice my opposition to the expansion of Orleans Parish Prison,” says our member Lauren Nguyen. “VOTE was the reason for that.” Elected officials are listening more intently than ever, too, and it shows. As one example, both the City Planning Committee and City Council voted unanimously to decrease the number of people allowed to be locked up in OPP. As one VOTE member reminds us, this year we earned an official nickname among legislators: the blue shirts.
7. We strengthened our partnerships
Social movements can’t happen in silos. That’s why almost everything we do is with at least one partner organization that shares our values and visions. Our members are the weavers between partner organizations, strengthening the fabric of our entire movement. For example, VOTE member Wan Qi Kong participated in the 9th Annual NOLA to Angola bike ride this fall. “Completing the ride deepened my commitment to justice reform work,” she says. “It was a beautiful and moving experience.” Other members have brought new partnerships into our fold by running a toy drive for children with incarcerated parents and starting a prison ministry called Abolition Apostles--a few of many examples.
8. We grew
Our statewide network has more members now than we’ve ever had before. “I learned about VOTE this past summer from a friend and made it my mission to get more involved,” a New Orleans member told us. Another said that they felt inspired to come back after many years away. In addition to the growth of our main chapter in New Orleans, we’ve seen the same in our three other chapters in Baton Rouge, Lafayette, and Shreveport. In the new year and beyond, we’re committed to developing these three other chapters, and one way we’ve already done that is by hiring four more full-time organizers. Additionally, our partner organization Voters Organized to Educate, which can lobby, endorse candidates, and get closer to political issues in the movement, hired its first full-time staff. We’re excited to work with all of the growing branches in our ever-expanding tree!
9. We deepened friendships
Our organization was started by several friends who had the shared experience of being incarcerated and were committed to changing their fate. Relationships are what keep this movement united, and we’re proud to be the reasons that many VOTE members became fast friends. “I was able to meet new friends this year who share the same passion as myself--fighting for justice,” says one VOTE member. These friendships remind us that what we’re building is a movement based on love.
10. We committed to gaining more wins
One VOTE member had a poignant message for us to remember as we celebrate this past year. “I’m waiting to receive my win,” he says, reminding us that there’s always more work to do, and more wins to be had. As we move into 2020 and beyond, these truths will echo in our ears.
These wins prove that VOTE is on the up and up. And they would not have been possible without the continued support of our community. Please consider us in your year-end giving. Make a donation here. Just like our wins, no donation is too big or small.
I ask this question, to all who’ve known me.
And still I get no answer to this question.
Why I can't see, the things that are right in front of my face?
As I try to see my life for what it really is
It makes me sick to my stomach.
Sometimes I know things as if I have already seen them.
I try to understand why my mind sees things before they happen?
I can't explain this.
Sometimes I lay on my rack
Thinking bad things about people that are good to me.
Sometimes my mind rows to and fro,
but it never stops thinking.
I have asked God what this means and I get no answer!
So, I try not to think this way,
But the bad outweighs the good sometimes.
I love all people,
But sometimes I just think about killing them all.
I know this is not good,
so I ask God to please stop these thoughts.
I snap back to the same question I asked in the beginning of this.
Why I can't see that that is right in front of my face?
I sometimes feel that I'm blind to it,
It makes me lost to know where I'm not at sometimes!
As I ask for directions to help me on this path,
God has no time for me or anything that I'm asking.
I lose my whole train of thought and have to start all over again.
I really hate it when this happens!
I say to myself: ‘God please fix my silly mind and bring me back.’
Back to where I understand,
Where I know what's going on.
I have tons of crap going through my mind in seconds.
This makes for a bad headache,
So I again cry out to God and ask the same question.
Why can't I see?
Still He has no time for my answer.
God, Lord. Help me in this time of need for Your Son is lost and confused.
Straighten out my path so that I may understand where my mind catches up with my body!
Lord I just want for all this to stop.
Allow me to see what's in front of my face
So that when I ask “why can't I see?"
I see what’s always been right there!
God allow my mind to focus on the simple things
And allow it to get back on the right path of trusting in the best things I need.
That I may finally see what it is that you have for me O Lord.
Sometimes the easiest things are the hardest things to overcome.
I just would like to see!
God thanks for all You do and all that You are going to do,
to me and others in my life.
Lord forgive me for I'm not the best apple in the basket,
But I try to be what You want me to be Lord.
Allow me to keep pushing towards the mark, Father.
Please make me better in every way Lord.
Allow me to be brighter than I've ever been, Father.
I just need this in my life, O God.
Strengthen me where I'm broken,
and straighten out my mind in ways that I may be normal.
Now I can see what I was looking for,
It was there all along.
It was You, God!
In Jesus’ name:
I Love, Love You Lord...
If you or someone you know is a currently or formerly incarcerated person with creative content to offer, please submit your materials to email@example.com and we'll be in touch! We'll share the content on social media and always give credit to the artist(s) involved. Any type of submission--whether stories, poems, illustrations, music, videos or something else--are welcome! Aaron Kitzler is currently incarcerated at Angola State Penitentiary.
Mass incarceration and access to healthcare are both subjects in the national spotlight, but not many people are talking about the connection between the two. We know firsthand that this intersection can’t be overlooked. It’s what drove us to partner with Tulane University to open the Formerly Incarcerated Transition (FIT) Clinic, a place for formerly incarcerated people (FIP) to go get quality healthcare as they transition into life on the outside. Now we’re expanding our work on medical rights via an exciting new opportunity. Last month, our Deputy Director Bruce Reilly (BR), Andrea Armstrong (AA), Professor of Law at Loyola University New Orleans, and Ashley Wennerstrom (AW) with the Center for Healthcare, Value, and Equity at LSU Health Sciences Center won a research fellowship from the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation (RWJF). For the next three years, they’ll work together to lift up the medical needs of directly impacted people by taking a complete look at medical treatment (or lack thereof) within prison walls, reviewing the transition services currently available to people in Louisiana, and evaluating the effectiveness of Louisiana’s Medicaid expansion to include people with convictions. We sat down with this incredible research team to learn about why FIP-centered research is so crucial at this moment, what excites them about this opportunity, and more.
VOTE: How are you doing today? What’s something on your heart that you’re bringing with you here?
BR: Awesome. I’m thinking about the love of my daughter who’s in town!
VOTE: How did it feel when you found out you received the fellowship?
AA: Disbelief. We had just been dreaming about what the project could be like and worked on the application for so long, so when we got the email that we’d been selected it was unreal.
VOTE: How did you become interested in the intersection of incarceration and healthcare?
AA: The focus of all my research is on jail and prison conditions. It’s always been really clear to me that medical care is the leading cause of death in prison and jails, so to prevent these deaths is a really exciting possibility.
AW: My involvement started many years ago. I had a dear friend who was locked up for about 44 years, and he got cancer while incarcerated. It started as Hepatitis C, which went untreated and turned into liver cancer. It was awful to watch him go through that. His conviction was overturned, and he was released just a few days before he died. He came home with me, some friends and family. I saw firsthand the consequences of someone not getting care while incarcerated. His name was Herman Wallace, of The Angola 3.
BR: I saw so many people suffering from mental and physical health issues on the inside, as well as the real gaps in treatment and the dubiousness with which healthcare “professionals” treat people who are complaining of symptoms. When I learned about the legal standards of care, I saw the challenges with them, the failure to meet them, When I got out, I saw it’s not just a symptom of incarceration, but also a symptom of poverty.
VOTE: What are your goals for the fellowship?
AW: More broadly, [a goal is to shift] thinking about criminal justice as a public health issue, and help reframe the narrative about why it’s so important for us to care about people who are and were incarcerated.
BR: [We also want to] build awareness that this is an issue. It’s not until you start talking about it. Then people go, “oh yeah, I’ve never thought about that.” There are a lot of issues that people never thought of until some currently incarcerated people started shaking the tree a little bit.
AA: We’ll have a chance to document in a systematic way all of the different ways that people are not receiving constitutionally proper healthcare. I don’t think there’s very much that’s known about how healthcare is delivered in jails and prisons. So this is a small project that provides the opportunity for deeper work. What comes out the end of these years will lay stronger foundations for future study. The ultimate goal is to improve conditions with better healthcare with Louisiana prisons primarily, but hopefully also jails. We hope to develop strong policy changes and recommendations to put forward.
VOTE: What role do you think academia and research have in reforming our carceral system?
AA: It’s about creating a story. Academia builds a data-focused, broader story. Ashley and I in different ways are contributing the analytical data that supports and confirms the stories that we hear from VOTE members and provides the foundation to advocate for improvements.
AW: I think that in order for that research to be effective, though, it needs to be done in partnership with people who are directly impacted. This is why we’re so excited to work with VOTE.
BR: When we have these silos and researchers who “know better,” that’s when things run off course. I think we all really benefit from the connection and dedication with the community that good researchers have. The real heart and soul that they put into their work, and why they do it, what motivates them, are all the best qualities that we hope for all members of our community. Sometimes you get people who are really smart [and] they may fight to win, but they’re not really in it for the right reasons, and they’re not going to stick around when the fight is over. So we try to build with people who are in it to win it and in it to the limit.
VOTE: Why is access to Medicaid is important for people who are just getting out?
AA: Overwhelmingly nationwide, we tend to incarcerate people who are marginalized through their income, their race, gender, disability and/or mental health status. So the people who are being released are those who were treated as second-class members of the country before they even went to prison. When they’re released, they’re likely leaving more traumatized than they came in with. [We’ll analyze] Medicaid data [for] the types of services [FIP] access when they get out and ask if the use is different from the general population. If it is, the question is why? Our hypothesis is that the use would be different because they may not have received constitutionally adequate healthcare on the inside.
AW: Medicaid [access] is absolutely critical. We know that people are at an increased risk of death right when they get out. For two weeks after being released from prison, people are 12 times more likely to die than others in society.
VOTE: Can you describe what the community engagement aspect of this research will look like?
AW: Our partnership is rooted not just in collaboration, but in friendship. Bruce and I have been doing this kind of work together for about five years already. My highest desire is whatever the directly impacted community wants. Right now, we intend to do focus groups with formerly incarcerated people about their needs that weren’t met [while they were on the inside]. Though it will be difficult, we’re also going to try to do interviews and/or focus groups with people who are currently incarcerated. [Throughout the research], we’ll keep directly impacted communities and transition services updated on what we’re finding, and check in with VOTE staff and members to be sure we’re asking the right questions and doing the research the right way. If the community says there’s something we’ve missed, by all means, we can make adjustments as we go.
VOTE: What do you hope the long-term impact of your study will be?
BR: This fellowship is another brick in the wall, another step in the journey towards giving people the healthcare they deserve. If you’re going to take over someone’s body, and not give them the option to take care of their own body, then you have to take care of that body until you no longer have control over them. No one should live in a world where their family members go to prison and aren’t able to get preventative medications or to treat things that are treatable, and suddenly have them dumped back on your door.
AA: In many ways, jails and prisons are seen as isolated “behind the walls” spaces where society and family members don’t have access, and [therefore can’t be] involved. Instead, I want us to think about them as public health spaces. Jails and prisons are part of our social fabric. What happens in these facilities doesn’t stay contained in these walls, but spills out in lots of different ways--in incarcerated people’s relationships with their families, their ability to get a job. When we think about these spaces as public health spaces our practices radically change.
AW: We have this idea that people who are in prison are “bad people”, so while they’re there whatever happens to them is not really our concern. We hope to bring some compassion to this issue. Regardless of whether someone is incarcerated, they still have the right to respect and dignity. Poor health should not be part of the punishment.
VOTE: Beyond this fellowship, what do you hope to see for the future of healthy communities?
AA: First, I’d like to see people leave no worse off than when they entered [jail or prison]. Confinement and separation are punishment enough. We have people who are being held captive to a healthcare system that doesn’t keep them healthy. Health takes lots of forms. In healthy communities, mental health is addressed, people can get acute and preventative care when they need it--not just when it’s an emergency--and when people come home they don’t have lots of obstacles.
AW: When we think about reentry, [sometimes it] sounds like we’re trying to check boxes of getting someone housing or a job. We forget to talk about people’s wellness and mental health. We don’t think about restoring and establishing relationships that have been damaged [or prevented] while people were incarcerated. How do we help this person become a full member of society in the same way that we do for those of us who haven’t been incarcerated?
BR: Part of this is about access, part of it is about availability. Those are two different things. It’s kind of like having voting rights and not having them. Just because you have them doesn’t mean you can use them. If you’re going to have a program that’s providing, let’s say, medication treatment for addiction, but at the same time isn’t going to test people for diabetes, it’s a little bit half-hearted and may defeat the whole purpose. Why am I going to keep you alive if I’m going to let you die of something else? I want to see a world where the medical professionals are as engaged with our community of currently and formerly incarcerated people as they are with other communities. There’s no reason for that division. If you’re in jail in New Orleans, you’re within half a mile of three hospitals. There’s no reason to build a barrier and say “we don’t do healthcare across the wall.”
For this week's Creative Corner, we're doing something a little different! Above is a two-page spread from the latest issue of The Beat Within, a bi-weekly, 60-page publication of creative writing and art from incarcerated people all across California. In 1996, the magazine was founded in San Francisco when David Inocencio, former assistant director of the Detention Diversion Advocacy Program, teamed up with Pacific News Service, a non-profit media/communications organization, to offer writing workshops to youth detained in San Francisco’s Juvenile Hall. When rapper Tupac Shakur was murdered, The Beat Within published its first issue as an outlet for young people to express their intense feelings of loss. For some, it was the first positive recognition they ever received that they had a voice worthy of an audience. Today, The Beat Within staff and volunteers serve more than 5,000 youth annually through workshops operated across California, New Mexico, Hawaii, Oregon and Washington, DC. The publication makes a great holiday gift at $12 for an issue or $225 for an annual subscription. Learn more and get a subscription here!
This weekend’s election results prove that the people are powerful. Candidates who believe in our rights as people with convictions won seats all over Louisiana. Here in New Orleans, we passed an amendment to form a city Human Rights Commission. Statewide elections were close, but thanks to the efforts of so many of our canvassers and partners, there were wins for justice reform there, too. To boot, this election isn’t the only success of the season. From the local to the national levels, we’ve seen leaders come into the spotlight who together prove that we are an undying movement. In other words, at every juncture, we are regaining our rights, strengthening our voices, and mobilizing our communities. Let’s take a closer look.
In 1964, the first Civil Rights Act passed thanks to the dedication of some formidable leaders from the South. From this Act, protected classes were established, which means groups of people that cannot be legally discriminated against on the basis of identity. Since the original passage, more groups have been added, but people with convictions are not one of them. On Saturday, 73% of registered voters in New Orleans passed a ballot initiative to create a citywide Human Rights Commission (HRC). The HRC will investigate, report on, and order people to testify about violations of human rights in the city, including those against formerly incarcerated people (FIP), according to The Advocate. This commission will also support and protect other unprotected classes. Fifteen New Orleanians will serve on the board, seven of which will be appointed by the mayor and approved by the city council, the rest nominated by a councilmember. We look forward to not only the implementation of the HRC starting January 1, but also holding it accountable to the promises of justice it makes.
This kind of change isn’t limited to New Orleans. We see the potential for justice reform all over the state. On March 1, Act 636 went into effect, restoring voting rights to anyone currently on probation, off papers, or on parole for five or more years. From then until the Oct. 26 deadline, our team worked around the clock to register as many newly eligible voters as possible. We relied on the train-the-trainer model, teaching groups of people at a time how to register someone. New Orleans member Nziki Wiltz led a training on the West Bank. “Nziki [has] such an amazing way of reaching out and connecting [with people],” says one trainee who then went on to register people at her local Probation and Parole Office. “We all left with the feeling that we had accomplished the start of something.” At the same time that we were getting people with convictions registered, our canvassers started knocking doors, making phone calls, and sending texts all across the state. They followed the direction of the Power Coalition, of which we are a key member. The canvassers operated specifically on principles of equity and justice, and because of that, we saw a significantly higher Black voter turnout than other racial groups.
Our canvassers signed up to work with us because they’ve found strength in our movement, and now they’re here to stay. More people waking up and joining our fight all across Louisiana, and from this we will continue to see the fruits of our collective labor. “I feel like I’m part of the change,” says Wiltz.
Directly impacted people like our canvassers and recent voters aren’t just taking charge across the state, though. They’re coming into leadership roles all over the U.S., capturing a national spotlight and leaving waves of change in their paths. You may have heard about San Francisco’s newest District Attorney, Chesa Boudin, whose parents have been incarcerated since he was a baby. Because of the impact this has had on his life, he’s already planning to make progressive strides in his new position. In Chicago last month, FIP Sarah Gad announced that she’s running for U.S. Congress, District 1. If elected, she’d be the U.S.’ first formerly incarcerated woman federal legislator. These public figures’ openness about the impact mass incarceration has had on them is one more step towards destigmatizing conversations about it. FICPFM--a national coalition of directly impacted leaders--is right there with Boudin and Gad. Collectively, we are paving the way towards a transformative healing system that recognizes the needs of both those who cause and those who experience harm. And people are listening to us. Last month we witnessed candidates running for president of the U.S. show up for Justice Votes, a forum about justice reform that was led by formerly incarcerated leaders. Their ears are open, and we can see before our very eyes how together we are changing the way that our nation thinks about and votes on justice reform.
While our movement will continue no matter who is in office, we’re excited to work with new and old faces who are committed to changing the status quo of our criminal (in)justice system. And for the other wins that we weren’t able to snag this weekend, as our fearless leader Norris Henderson always says, “we fight one day longer than our opponent.”
Want to take a close-up look at the election results? Check out this blog from our partner, Voters Organized to Educate.
If God blessed America from the start,
He blessed a diverse art--
Of racism, bigotry, and slavery to boot.
Are all men's lives precious, or what the hoot?
Keeping racist laws, to keep up a cause.
To embrace big-o-try, to boast about the hist-o-ry.
Thinking slavery was for economic gain,
with supremacist patriotism, righteousness was slain.
We want this land to be for freedom,
but the history shows,
it only applies to some.
For everyone to make a patriotic pledge,
we must smash hatred with a sledge.
Then maybe we can all be proud,
and pray together out loud,
that we hold no man as a slave,
because we are the home of the brave.
And together we stand,
so the whole world can understand,
that we are one nation;
brothers and sisters,
all races from one creation.
If God is the reason that we stand strong,
then let us right any wrong.
By keeping God's word on our minds;
not falling back to segregated times.
"I and my Father are one;
If anyone serves Me,
let him follow Me,
and where I am,
there my servant will be also."
One nation under God, with liberty and justice for all.
If you or someone you know is a currently or formerly incarcerated person with creative content to offer, please submit your materials to firstname.lastname@example.org and we'll be in touch! We'll share the content on social media and always give credit to the artist(s) involved. Any type of submission--whether stories, poems, illustrations, music, videos or something else--are welcome! Michael A. Videau is currently incarcerated at Angola State Penitentiary.
If every Louisianan with a criminal record lived in the same place, it would be the largest city in our state. In fact, it would be about double the size of Baton Rouge, Lafayette, New Orleans and Shreveport combined, as 1.7 million Louisianans have a record, according to 2016 data. In other words, since the dawn of modern mass incarceration in the 1980s, millions of people have been carrying the discrimination of convictions on their backs. That number is exponentially higher when we add in the families of people with convictions, as we know well that they are doing time alongside their loved ones.
As a massive group of people with a common experience, we have the power to vote together on the issues that affect our daily lives.
This means that we are, in essence, a voting bloc, which is a group of voters who are strongly motivated by a specific common concern. Usually, the bloc votes in unison based on that concern.
Despite being a powerful voting bloc, we are not politically popular. Yet. But last Monday offered a window into how much that is changing. Three presidential candidates joined a room full of formerly incarcerated leaders to talk about what they plan to do for justice reform. History will be the judge of what that day meant, and it is up to impacted people like us to make that history meaningful.
If the recent past is any indication, however, we’re on the right path.
In 2018, it was the leadership of people with records that ended the non-unanimous jury system in Louisiana. In our neighboring state of Florida, the same type of leaders ended the nation’s most egregious disenfranchisement scheme.
We have the opportunity to continue this trend for the remainder of this year and in 2020. We must show up in our polling stations at increasing rates, and do this while America fades deeper into the jaded cynicism of fake news and false promises. It is up to us--whether we care about a political party or not--to ensure our households are represented when politicians only react to who they consider to be their voters instead of all of the residents to whom they are accountable.
People with convictions live in every district. We are representative of every party. We care about many issues, particularly those that put people in cages and leave them there until so-called ‘justice’ destroys entire families and hollows out our neighborhoods.
When laws create two classes of citizenship, it is an apartheid state. One class receives equal protection and constitutional rights that cannot be infringed, while the other--including the 1.7 million of us mentioned above--experiences added barriers, hurdles, and exclusions. There is neither equal protection nor any truly guaranteed rights, because if it can happen to one part of the people, it will eventually happen to all of us. The next decade will determine if Louisiana, and the United States, continues to build an apartheid state. We will see if the ever-expanding number of people who are shut out becomes the majority, as it was in South Africa, and as the projections predict.
Early voting for the Nov. 16 run-off election is underway, and continues through Nov. 9. This is our chance to be heard and counted as newly-registered voters.
We have a chance to vote for people who support our voting rights and participation in the process. We can support candidates who would hold accountable the real drug-pushers--the Big Pharma employees and shareholders who have been flooding our streets with drugs. Through our votes, we can support the people who have been victimized by their predatory profiting schemes. We can vote for people who create a transparent government, rather than a kickback scheme that uses people as pawns for their enrichment.
The governor, secretary of state, twenty-nine state legislators, a Supreme Court justice, as well as dozens of city and parish officials throughout the state are up for election on Nov. 16. There are also important initiatives on some ballots, such as the one in New Orleans, where we have a chance to vote for and create a long-needed Human Rights Commission, while also raise funds to invest in our local infrastructure. Learn more here.
When we vote, we make it harder for them to ignore us. When we speak up, we make it harder not to hear us. We vote because we matter. And whether it is this group of politicians or the next, they will ultimately have to agree with us.
No one enters life all bad or all good.
That is mostly defined by your circumstances, your situations, your hood.
You may look at a precious baby and think this isn't so.
But one day you tell them to come here, who teaches the baby to say no?
Certain things are embedded into our DNA that sparks virtuousness.
Some are deleterious, iniquitous, ranconous, and maliciousness.
Coincidentally, there are other virtues that speaks of a contrary nature of our DNA.
This is a proven fact whether scientific, spiritual, or evolutionary.
These are nobleness, trust-worthiness, genuine-ness, and benevolence.
These characteristics are intertwined in a molecular strain of importance.
Your cell nuclei of heredity will not change.
It has little bearing if you're a mad scientist, Einstein's genius, or straight-jacket derange.
These things become a byproduct of abuse, poverty, and addictions.
It takes over life's meeting from salutations to benedictions.
The streets can make you heartless, conniving, and mean.
The home can make you lovable, respectful, so fresh-so clean.
Every experience you face builds one characteristic and depletes another, which can't be dismissed.
Life dealt me five of a different, I turned it into a straight flush because I was born for this!
If you or someone you know is a currently or formerly incarcerated person with creative content to offer, please submit your materials to email@example.com and we'll be in touch! We'll share the content on social media, always give credit to the artist(s) involved, and cover the costs of submission. Any type of submission--whether stories, poems, illustrations, music, videos or something else--are welcome! Eyba Brown is currently incarcerated at Raymond Laborde Correctional Center.
Last Tuesday, more than 16,000 communities throughout the nation participated in the 35th annual Night Out Against Crime. Historically, this annual event has been an opportunity for local neighborhoods and law enforcement to come together in the name of crime prevention. VOTE and our sister organization, Crime Survivors for Safety and Justice (CSSJ), both know that we cannot prevent crime without also addressing its root causes including, but not limited to: a lack of financial stability, a lack of resources for mental health care, over-policing in communities of color, and mass incarceration. That’s why this year we partnered to put on a celebration that was not only anti-crime, but pro-healing. VOTE members, CSSJ members, and passers by all came together in Central City, New Orleans, to break bread, enjoy music and entertainment, and talk about what healing really looks like.
“To me, healing looks like people coming together and forgiving,” says CSSJ member Dominique Jones. “We have to move forward and lean on God.” Many others at the event echoed Jones’ sentiments about forgiveness, too. Angela Thompson lost her son to gun violence more than three years ago. Almost immediately, she asked to speak to the young man who killed her son. Having seen the horrendous impacts of mass incarceration many times before, she just wanted to talk to him to understand why he did what he did, not to punish him or get him locked up.
“It’s not always easy to break the vicious cycles of retaliation,” she says. “But I’m doing it. When it gets really hard, I just breathe and pray, breathe and pray.”
Both Angela and New Orleans’ CSSJ Chapter Organizer Ariel Jeanjacques have met resistance for trying to approach harm differently. The criminal legal system can’t understand why survivors of crime don’t want the people who harmed them to sit behind bars for the rest of their lives.
“The system is using survivors as puppets to do what they want,” says Ariel. “But they’re not the ones who have really been affected--they haven't been through it. They're persuading survivors to lock people up instead of putting in real efforts to end the cycle of abuse and harm.”
Proponents of mass incarceration aren’t the only ones who don’t fully understand the work of CSSJ, though. Other survivors in their communities who are still angry and bitter can’t see how people like Angela and Ariel have compassion in their hearts.
One of the many ways Ariel tries to bring survivors into her network and help them see things differently is by sharing her own story. Several years ago, she called the police, thinking they would help protect her from her ex-partner, who was abusive. Instead, they fell in line with the history of law enforcement not taking survivors seriously at best, or blaming and criminalizing them at worst. She was arrested and later imprisoned. She tells younger people that they could face this kind of systemic violence, too, but also that they can be a voice against it.
“I just meet people where they’re at,” she says. “At CSSJ we say ‘from healing to action,’ because losing a child is something you never fully get over, but also it’s not healthy or helpful to sit and drown in your sorrows when you can start to heal and turn that into action.”
That phrase--from healing to action--really resonated for a new CSSJ member, Sophie, who also lost her son to gun violence. Tuesday’s event was a first for her. For many years, she was sad and resentful. Because of that, Sophie didn’t get involved. She and Ariel lived in the same housing development for many years, though, so they stayed in touch and checked in from time to time. Now Sophie is ready to do anything she can to prevent the cycle of crime and hurt.
Similarly, Felicia, a Florida resident, was shot 13 times while sleeping at her childhood friend’s house. Her friend and his 12-year-old son were both killed. For a long time, she only had hate in her heart because the person who shot her was someone she grew up with, and she hadn’t done anything except try to sleep. Aswald Thomas, the Managing Director for CSSJ, counseled Felicia for almost four years. One day, she called him and said “hating the man who shot me isn’t making me feel any better. I need to cross over. I could’ve died that day, too, but I didn’t. I have a purpose. I’m here to make a difference.” She’s now a CSSJ Chapter Organizer in Florida.
Addressing and preventing harm without relying on mass incarceration is a slow process. But as Felicia’s story shows us, it’s worth it, and it works.
“Loving is the answer to ending cycles of harm [in the system and with each other],” says Ariel with total confidence. “We just need more love in the world, and resources that really help the people most impacted.”
October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month. More than 5,000 women in Louisiana experience domestic violence every year, and last year the New Orleans Police Department received more than 40,000 domestic violence-related calls. But as we’ve seen countless times before, the police don’t always keep survivors safe, especially women of color. If you or someone you know is in a domestic violence-related crisis, call the Louisiana Coalition Against Domestic Violence at 1-888-411-1333. If you know someone experiencing a mental health crisis in the greater New Orleans area, call the Metropolitan Human Services District at 504-826-2675. They have a 24/7 trained crisis team that is not affiliated with the police.
They say life’s a bitch and then you die,
that's why I can cry when a real homie die.
They say there is a Heaven for a gangsta.
Well is there?
Find yourself and tell me...
Lost in another world,
I pray that God finds me
and I know he will
But will it be too late?
When he comes looking
and I can't be found,
will he continue to look
or will I be forever "LOST" in time?
I'd be just another memory
like all our fallen soldiers,
another page turned
making our today
and must I still go on?
Tired of living like this
Sometimes I just want to give up
But I keep my faith up,
stay prayed up,
and hold on,
cause I know life goes on.
But I really pray
that he continue to look,
cause I'll continue to seek,
wish I could find him before me.
But as another day comes to an end
I'm still seeking cause of my faith within
If you or someone you know is a currently or formerly incarcerated person with creative content to offer, please submit your materials to firstname.lastname@example.org and we'll be in touch! We'll share the content on social media and always give credit to the artist(s) involved. Any type of submission--whether stories, poems, illustrations, music, videos or something else--are welcome! Jeremy Smith is currently incarcerated at Angola State Penitentiary.