Prison

Josiah R. Daniels 10-16-2023

Hannah Bowman. Graphic by Tiarra Lucas. Original photo courtesy Bowman.

One of my favorite passages in the Bible is from in Isaiah 61:1: “The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners.” Christians will be familiar with this passage as Jesus quotes it when he stands up to read in the synagogue during the early days of his ministry (Luke 4). It’s a passage that gives me some hope for Christianity, since the central character of our religion believed that even the worst-of-the-worst deserve forgiveness.

Mitchell Atencio 4-27-2023
A comic book illustration of a male superhero in purple tights, a purple cowl, and red gloves. He's holding a woman in his arms in a city park as a police helicopter circles a tower in the background, where an explosion occurs on an upper floor.

Illustration by Cat Sims

EVER SINCE I was little, my imagination has been shaped by superhero worlds, lore, and comic and animated adaptations. And while more “realistic” adaptations are the trend on the big screen, what enthralled me about characters such as Batman wasn’t that I thought he could be real; I was tuned instead to the ethos behind the caped crusader.

Superhero stories often seem limitless. At their best, they stretch the imagination to ask what type of world we want to exist and what it would take to get us there, while acknowledging hardships along the way.

Recently, I began a rewatch of the DC Animated Universe: TV shows, feature films, and shorts that aired mainly from 1992 to 2006. These shows were the first to capture my attention and shape my imagination. Batman: The Animated Series was my first love, with Kevin Conroy’s Batman and Mark Hamill’s Joker seared into my consciousness. As I watched, I made a particular note about the moral imagination of these shows: Superheroes in these shows don’t just refuse to kill — a theme recurring across superhero worlds — they refuse to even let anyone die.

Take Season 1, Episode 11 (S1 E11) of Superman: The Animated Series: Lex Luthor’s weapons factory is about to explode, with spilled molten metal splashing about. Lana Lang is hanging by a thread above certain death; so is Lex Luthor, who unintentionally caused this mess in his attempt to kill Superman. But then, at the last moment, Superman bursts forth from under the molten waves, crashing out of the top of the factory just before it explodes, with Lana in one arm and the villain in the other.

It’s a scene that strains credulity. There’s an improbability of timing, a lack of “logic” in doubling back for the person trying to kill you, and the storyteller’s refusal to explain how Superman managed to save the villain. But what’s key here is the insistence, and flaunting, that Superman would save the villain. It doesn’t need an explanation; it’s assumed.

For a while, I was paying attention to how the writers made this subtext believable. Superman saves some villains in hopes they can be rehabilitated, others because they are being used by larger, more villainous characters. Why? The simple answer is that these were shows for families and children. The same reason the comic book’s “League of Assassins” became the TV show’s “Society of Shadows” and villains set out to “destroy” rather than “kill” heroes.

But this death-resisting subtext becomes dialogue in S2 E9 of Superman: The Animated Series when some kids plead with Metallo, a villain disguised as a hero, to save Lois Lane from an exploding volcano. “Superman wouldn’t let anyone die, no matter how bad they were,” the kids protest. “I’m not Superman,” Metallo retorts.

The Editors 4-21-2023
Illustration of Pamela R. Lightsey, a black lesbian Methodist elder. She has a shaved head and is smiling with red lipstick. She wears a black shirt, red earrings, and red bangles with black stripes. She is framed by a rainbow circle and yellow lilies.

Pamela R. Lightsey, the first out Black lesbian elder ordained in the United Methodist Church, is a scholar, speaker, and author of Our Lives Matter: A Womanist Queer Theology. / Illustration by Kim Thompson

POPULAR CULTURE PLAYS an important role in shaping our view of the possible. Ta-Nehisi Coates, author of Between the World and Me, for years wrote Marvel’s Black Panther and Captain America comics. “I think we don’t always realize the extent to which the culture actually interacts with politics,” Coates said on Ezra Klein’s podcast. “I could advocate for all of the policies in the world ... but it really, really occurred to me that there’s a generation that is being formed right now that’s deciding what they will allow to be possible, what they will be capable of imagining. And the root of that isn’t necessarily the kind of journalism that I love that I was doing, the root of that is the stories we tell.”

In this issue, sojo.net associate news editor Mitchell Atencio looks at some of those stories — in particular, superhero comics — and explores what is not being told, and how pop culture often avoids grappling with the way our country approaches issues such as policing and incarceration. That failure has consequences far beyond the DC and Marvel universes.

Arthur James 4-04-2023

Image is a reflection of bars on a white wall. Credit: Unsplash/Bernard Hermant.

Currently, I am a prisoner willingly serving a prison term for terrible crimes I committed a long time ago and self-reported some years past. This prison season has been the brightest darkness I've ever known. Prisoners are exiled from healthy community and forced to grapple with toxic shame in isolation. The same is accompanied by a pervasive loneliness that can be overwhelming.

Supreme Court Justice nominee, Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson testifies on the second day of her nomination hearing in front of the Senate Judiciary panel in Washington DC. on March 22, 2022. Photo credit: Patsy Lynch/MediaPunch via Reuters.

Hawley's accusation that Jackson is soft on crime reveals a troubling perspective on people who enact harm. Hawley is one of several Republican senators who sorts the world into two types of people: People who are evil and, if given the chance, will commit horrific, reprehensible crimes over and over again, and people like the rest of us, people who need to be protected from the evil people. According to this line of thinking, ensuring this protection shouldn’t rule out the harshest measures of isolation and punishment the state can enact. We separate “them” from “us” by forever marking them as dangerous.

Hannah Bowman 3-01-2022

Peter speaking to two men while in prison. Image part of the Cooper Hewitt collection, Smithsonian Design Museum.

Jesus’ “mission statement” when he begins his public ministry in Galilee includes a promise of liberation and release for those who are incarcerated. While the New Testament context of “captivity” wasn’t entirely the same as modern imprisonment, Jesus’ promise aligns liberation of prisoners with healing and good news for the poor and oppressed. Taking Jesus’ words in this text seriously forces us to ask: If God’s reign is characterized by freedom for prisoners, why are we supporting incarceration now?

Josiah R. Daniels 5-07-2021

Steve Harmon (Kelvin Harrison Jr.) in Monster on Netflix

Director Anthony Mandler's movie Monster, focuses in on a myriad of social issues — race, class, mass incarceration, crime, and the U.S. penal system — but it also is a monster movie of sorts.

A New York City Police car is parked outside the Brooklyn Metropolitan Detention Center, which is operated by the Federal Bureau of Prisons, in New York, February 4, 2019. REUTERS/Brendan McDermid

The U.S. Bureau of Prisons has no immediate plans to send thousands of inmates released during the COVID-19 pandemic back to prison, but to prevent that from happening in the future, Congress needs to change the law, its head said Thursday.

"We're going to use good judgment and common sense and work within the law," said BOP Director Michael Carvajal in testimony before the Senate Judiciary Committee, noting the agency has no desire to "arbitrarily" disrupt peoples' lives by forcing them to return to prison.

Sarah Jobe 4-01-2020

Photo by Katherine Gu on Unsplash

This past Sunday, some of the only Christians legally permitted to gather in person for worship in many states were those of us who gathered for worship in prisons. I am a chaplain at a women’s minimum custody prison, and I welcomed my congregation to worship with the words, “Tonight we are not just worshipping for ourselves. We are standing in the gap for Christians in the whole state and in much of the nation who are not permitted to gather together to read the lectionary, say the Lord’s Prayer, or celebrate the Eucharist.'

Illustration by Shin Yeon Moon

Some mornings I drive to the duck pond
instead of writing poems. I can’t remember
how to keep words coupled to the truth.
So much lying has torn words loose
from what they stood for. Remember,
back when we agreed on their meanings?
I’d say honey for instance, and you could
taste it. Once you said freedom
and I saw doves rising from your shoulders.

We shared language so we were not alone.
We both loved words as if we could see them:
like ducks bobbing on a pond, dipping,
scooping, swabbing insects from the air.

Jamar A. Boyd II 6-11-2019

The continued demise of faith in this nation’s criminal justice system, elected officials, and government will increase wherever injustice is maintained in the name of “doing just enough”. If America is truly to be one nation, it must address and correct its patterns of injustice and persistent denials of full personhood for those who belong in this country and society.

Will Young 12-19-2018

The day before Adam Ward was slated to be executed, he sat in a visitation booth at the Allan B. Polunsky Unit in Livingston, Texas with Rev. DeAnna Golsan, a woman he had never met before. During the months prior, the two — Golsan, a Texan pastor who believed in the merit and morality of the death penalty, and Ward, a man who was sentenced to death — had become unexpected pen pals after being connected by Ward’s mother, an attendee of Golsan’s church. Golsan felt she knew him well, yet, upon meeting Ward, she was forced to confront that the 33-year-old soft-spoken man who cared mostly about his mother was somehow slated for death.

Julie Bender 9-25-2018

The Lord has appointed me to bring good news ... to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners. —Isaiah 61:1; Luke 4:18

APRIL'S BIRACIAL DAUGHTER Erin has a drug problem. Heartbroken, “April” has watched “Erin” negotiate the prison system for the past 17 years. Now age 44, Erin has been in and out of five prisons and four jails, totaling almost eight years—all on drug-related charges.

On any given day in the United States, at least 137,000 men and women are in prisons or jails for drug use or possession, with thousands more spending extended periods on probation and parole. Why have rates of drug use (excluding opioids) not changed significantly despite more than four decades of the so-called war on drugs? Why are so many punished by incarceration for an activity that does not directly harm others?

In fall 2016, I was looking for volunteer opportunities in retirement. Having worked with a prisoner-release program in Canada, I wanted to pursue criminal justice issues again. In Harrisonburg, Va., I discovered the Valley Justice Coalition, a local group concerned about reducing incarceration and recidivism in Harrisonburg and surrounding Rockingham County.

With 2.2 million inmates, “no other country in the world imprisons its citizens like we do,” says Craig Haney, a professor of psychology at the University of California. Currently, 670 per 100,000 persons are incarcerated in the U.S., compared with 60 to 200 persons per 100,000 in other Western countries. This prison boom has led to annual spending of $72.5 billion on corrections.

Brother Fink received his 87-year sentence in 1990, when he was 34. The former parole system had offered incentives so that a sentence could be reduced. With cooperative behavior and attending educational programs, prisoners could earn “good time credits,” so Brother Fink diligently complied. But by the mid-1980s, many states had passed “truth-in-sentencing” laws that required prisoners to serve higher percentages (typically 85 percent) of their already long sentences, followed in the ’90s by “tough on crime” policies.

Now state prisons in the U.S. face an exploding elderly population. Between 1993 and 2013, the number of prisoners 55 years or older, serving sentences of one year or longer, increased 400 percent, to 131,500. If this trend continues, by 2030 a third of all inmates will be elderly, escalating the need for geriatric facilities and staffing, with costs twice that of younger inmates. The Osborne Association, which works with older prisoners and their families, estimates current annual spending at $16 billion for inmates aged 50 and older, warning that without decisive action the criminal justice system is at risk of collapsing under its own weight.

After serving 28 years, might Brother Fink be eligible for parole? Sadly, the Virginia parole board denies most releases, currently approving only 6 percent. Brother Fink has had 11 parole interviews, receiving three-year deferrals, including two geriatric turndowns.

As of October 2016, the backlog of prisoners eligible for parole in Virginia numbered 2,765, costing the state more than $77 million annually. Given this backlog and the seriousness of Brother Fink’s crimes, what are his chances for release at his next parole hearing? Then multiply Brother Fink by more than 100,000 elderly prisoners across the nation, who are some of the most rehabilitated and most infirm in the system, thus posing the least threat to public safety.

 

John Noble 8-30-2018

Credit: Incarcerated Workers Organizing Committee

From Florida to California, imprisoned activists are organizing work stoppages, boycotting prison commissaries, and going on hunger strikes to draw attention to injustice in the U.S. prison system. Faith groups such as Christians for Socialism and The Friendly Fire Collective are supporting these prisoners as they hold a 19-day strike protesting what they call “prison slavery.” They see fighting for justice alongside prisoners as an important expression of their faith.

Austen Hartke 5-30-2018

Image via Nicholas Kwok/Unsplash

Christian ministries have been a part of the prison reform movement for decades, and Barna polls like the one conducted by Prison Fellowship tell us that 89 percent of practicing Christians agreed with the statement, “It’s important that prison conditions are safe and humane, specifically because I believe every person has intrinsic value and worth.” Our Christian belief that every single person bears the image of God within them informs the actions we take to support each other.

The Editors 12-01-2017
Faith in the Dark

Indie rock singer and Memphis native Julien Baker examines sexual identity, Christianity, and mental health in her latest album, Turn Out the Lights. Influenced by the Episcopal Church’s Book of Common Prayer, Baker’s album is a meditation on empathy and unity. Matador Records

Memoir of Survival

Nadia Murad was just 21 years old when she was forced into the ISIS slave trade in northern Iraq. Now a human rights activist, Murad details her narrow escape in The Last Girl: My Story of Captivity, and My Fight Against the Islamic State. Tim Duggan Books

Lyndsay West 4-18-2017

Paschal pardon here exemplifies a miscarriage of justice for one of the prisoners. The custom condemns Jesus, whose guilt is dubious. Ultimately, Jesus divinely conquers the unjust system at hand when he walks freely among his disciples in the flesh, three days after he is crucified as a criminal. But the possibility of a triumphant erasure of crime in the U.S. is limited. Constitutionally, the president can offer clemency — or “leniency” — for any federal offense, aside from cases involved with impeachment, by two methods: commute, which lessens the sentence but retains civil restrictions like the loss of the right to vote, or pardon, which eliminates the sentence entirely.

Pope Francis washes the feet of some inmates at the Paliano prison, south of Rome, Italy April 13, 2017. Osservatore Romano/Handout via REUTERS

"We are all sinners. We all have defects," the pope told the inmates, in an improvised sermon broadcast by Vatican Radio.

By washing their feet, Francis told them, he was willing to do "the work of a slave in order to sow love among us". He urged them to help each other.

Two of the 12 are serving life sentences, and the others are due to be released between 2019 and 2073.

Melissa Browning 2-20-2017

While they told Moses that, “All the words that the Lord has spoken we will do” (Exodus 24:3), in the end they turned to idols and broke God’s laws. By the time we get to First Samuel, we hear the people clamoring for an earthly king so they could be like other nations (1 Samuel 8:4-22). They thought life would be better if they shook up their system of government, so they ditched the judges and looked for an outsider. In the end, they got exactly what they asked for – a king named Saul who was wicked and moody and paranoid.

Caryn Rivadeneira 6-07-2016
Konstantin Yolshin / Shutterstock

Konstantin Yolshin / Shutterstock

How could I not? How could I benefit from the messed-up grace of God that allows me to be seen by God on high not as a horrible sinner full and capable of every last deadly sin but as a beloved child and not see others differently myself? It’s messed up, but it’s true.

It’s impossible to laugh, pray, and sing old gospel songs with men who’ve raped and murdered, who’ve sold drugs to children, carjacked strangers, shot girlfriends, buried bodies in woods and not see grace.

I could not look at lines of incarcerated men, ready for a day’s work under the gun (literally), and not shudder at past (and sometimes present) atrocities and injustices. And yet, I could only hope for redemption for this land that no longer grows cotton and for these men who no longer have freedom.

And there’s no way I could rub puppies’ tummies while talking to an inmate-cowboy about dogs, to hear him tell me lots of guys here are like pit bulls because they think they’re tough, but that those guys don’t know—“They’re just silly snuggle bugs,” he says—and me not feel the peace of Christ descend.

I don’t know why. I don’t know how. I just know it’s true: When we visit prisoners, we visit Christ. All during my time in Angola, I saw Jesus everywhere.