The shame of U.S. prisons

Most of us, I imagine, have not spent time in prison. Thus, we cannot know quite what it is like to be incarcerated. Yet many of our fellow citizens are incarcerated. In fact, writes Adam Gopnik in “The Caging of America” (The New Yorker, Jan. 30), “Six million people are under correctional supervision in the U.S.—more than were in Stalin’s gulags.”

Gopnik writes that “a prison is a trap for catching time.” The relentless ennui is suffocating. “The basic reality of American prisons is not that of the lock and key but that of the lock and clock,” he writes. Time stops.

Given the inhumane horror of being in prison, the greater horror is how ubiquitous it is in our country. “For a great many poor people,” writes Gopnik, “particularly poor black men, prison is a destination that braids through an ordinary life, much as high school and college do for rich white ones.”

He adds that “more than half of all black men without a high school diploma go to prison at some time in their lives” and calls such mass incarceration “the fundamental fact of our country today, … as slavery was the fundamental fact of 1850.” In truth, he writes, “there are more black men in the grip of the criminal-justice system—in prison, on probation or on parole—than were in slavery then.”

Just as startling as the number of people jailed today is how much the prison population has grown in the past 30 years. “In 1980,” Gopnik writes, “there were about 220 people incarcerated for every 100,000 Americans; by 2010, the number had more than tripled, to 731.” This growth has huge consequences on our society. In the past 20 years, “the money states spend on prisons has risen at six times the rate of spending on higher education.” The irony here is that the single greatest factor in reducing recidivism (relapsing into criminal behavior) is education.

And, as is pointed out often, the cost of keeping a prisoner is much greater than the cost of educating a person. For example, says Karin VanZant, CEO of Think Tank and the National Circles Campaign, studies show that by looking at third grade reading scores you can figure how many kids will drop out of high school before they graduate, and many of these will end up in prison. In Ohio, instead of investing $7,000 per year to raise reading scores, they are spending $37,000 per year for a prisoner.

Gopnik also points to the brutality of U.S. prisons. “Every day,” he writes, “at least 50,000 men … wake in solitary confinement, … locked in small cells where they see no one, cannot freely read and write, and are allowed out just once a day for an hour’s solo ‘exercise.’ ” Add to this the existence and threat of prison rape (see Gopnik’s quote on page 11), and you have a horrible situation.

Gopnik looks at some recent literature on prisons and crime and encounters some interesting insights. For example, “Crime is not the consequence of a set number of criminals; criminals are the consequence of a set number of opportunities to commit crime,” he writes. If you close down an open drug market in one neighborhood, it does not necessarily move to another neighborhood.

Another insight: “Curbing crime does not depend on reversing social pathologies or alleviating social grievances; it depends on erecting small, annoying barriers to entry.”

Gopnik concludes: “Since prison plays at best a small role in stopping even violent crime, very few people, rich or poor, should be in prison for a nonviolent crime.”

Take time to read the entire article. This huge problem in our country needs radical reform.

Two letters in the Feb. 27 issue respond to Gopnik's article. One, which I quoted from in my blog on immigration, is from Katherine Fennelly, who points out that "over 20,000 immigrants now languish in federal prison for no crime other than entering the United States without a valid visa."

The other letter is from Laura A. Tyson, who calls "our national obsession with imprisoning people for relatively petty and nonviolent offenses … a modern-day form of debtors' prison." She notes that many inmates she encounters "are arrested for outstanding warrants, some that date back as far as the 1980s. Nearly all of these warrants are for unpaid fines" for such things as loitering, "shoplifting, traffic violations, parking tickets and possession of small amounts of controlled substances." Since these women cannot pay the fines, they serve time in lieu of paying. They are "credited" about $30 a day toward their outstanding fines, but their stay in prison costs the public $100 a day. Talk about waste.

The U.S. prison system is not only immoral, it is wasteful, inefficient--in a word, stupid.

In the same chapter of the Bible (Matthew 25) where Jesus talks about welcoming him when we welcome the stranger, he also says, "I was in prison and you visited me" (v. 36).

Visiting is certainly important, but reforming prisons and removing prisoners is equally important. It's a shame.

Welcoming Jesus

You shall love the alien as yourself.--Leviticus 19:34
I was a stranger and you welcomed me.--Matthew 25:35

The other night I watched the 2011 film A Better Life, which had come up on my Netflix queue. The previous night, watching the Academy Awards telecast, I saw a clip from this film showing Demián Bichir, who was nominated for Best Actor. After seeing the film, I decided he deserved his nomination.

 
He plays Carlos Galindo, a gardener in East L.A. who struggles to keep his son away from gangs and immigration agents while trying to give his son the opportunities he never had. Early on, the film feels topical, but soon it gets more specific and tells the story of this man who tries to live a moral life in the midst of hardship and trying circumstances that feel like rotten luck.
He borrows money from his sister to buy a truck so that he can have his own gardening business and make some money in order to get him and his son into a better situation. But another immigrant that he hires steals his truck and sells it in order to send money to relatives back in Mexico. Carlos enlists the help of his son to find this man, and when they do, the son can't understand why his father isn't angrier or more vengeful toward the man who stole his truck.
The film helps viewers get into the skin of an immigrant who lives in constant fear of being caught and removed from his son, who is legal because he was born in the United States. This describes the situation of thousands of people in our country. We also see that immigrants are not a homogeneous group. Neither are Hispanics. Although Carlos shares a language and culture with many other Hispanics in L.A., he feels out of place with many of them as well. 
What makes the film better than most is that while it gives us a glimpse of this "issue," it mainly tells the moving story of a father and son caught in the grip of larger forces and doing their best to get buy. That helps make this specific story a universal one as well.
At church the previous day, last Sunday, I spoke with Jesus, who was visiting with his wife and two children. They'd been there a few weeks earlier as well. He and his son, Alejandro, helped us set up tables and chairs for our twice-monthly potluck after worship. Jesus told me a bit of his story, his going to Michigan from Mexico five years ago, then moving to Wichita, Kan., to find work, then bringing his family here. When I said, "I'm glad you're here," he smiled. It's not the message he hears much in our culture. There seems to be a lot of vitriol expressed toward immigrants, and too much of it comes from people who call themselves Christians.
I'm not claiming it's a simple issue. There are many complexities. But the Bible verses quoted above represent a thread in Scripture that ties strongly to the Golden Rule: "Do to others as you would have them do to you" (Matthew 7:12). 
The argument in Leviticus is that you love aliens (that word sounds strange, as if they're from Mars) because you were once aliens. In Matthew 25, Jesus identifies with the stranger, saying we welcome him when we welcome a stranger.
Yesterday I had lunch with Caleb Lazaro, a young pastor from Colorado Springs who is scholar-in-residence at Bethel College in North Newton, Kan., for six months. I'd heard him at our church back in January, where he talked about his own church. Most of the 45 or so in his church are undocumented, and he says the main issue he and others address with them is their anxiety. They often feel shame, he said. And their kids are often raised without a sense of home, which leads some to join gangs. Caleb said there has been no reform in citizenship laws since 1965. There needs to be a redefinition of citizenship, he said, so that people who've been living like citizens (paying taxes, contributing to the economy) for, say, five years, should be recognized as citizens.
In a letter in a recent New Yorker (Feb. 27), Katherine Fennelly notes that "immigration prosecutions now make up nearly half of federal felony prosecutions." NAFTA (the North American Free Trade Agreement) brought a freer flow of goods and capital, she writes, but not an increase in visas for blue-collar workers. "Over 20,000 immigrants now languish in federal prison for no crime other than entering the United States without a valid visa."
A Better Life tells a story that helps us see in a clearer way the experience of many undocumented workers. It doesn't explore why people are leaving other countries and coming to the United States at such risk. A documentary that does that is Dying to Live: A Migrant's Journey,which is available from Mennonite Central Committee (www.mcc.org). It's a 35-minute film and shows the desperate straits that drive people to leave their families to try to find work here. I recommend it.
Immigration is a huge issue, but it involves real people. As people seeking to follow Jesus, we need to summon the courage and the decency to welcome people some call aliens. In doing so, we may be welcoming the Lord we claim to follow.