Storytelling
A Victim's Letter
It has been two weeks since our visit with (the offender) and we are still feeling blessed. Something has happened in our souls that will last through eternity. This has brought a new dimension to forgiveness. We've been seeing people differently. It seems quite clear that if we can forgive the man for shooting and causing the death of our father, then we can certainly forgive anyone else of anything.
This was such an amazing situation. When we look back, we can see God's hands all over it.
We figured we'd be out of there in forty-five minutes, but it lasted three hours and it was just unbelievable how that police officer ended up in your classroom with the answer to Cindy's "Big" question.
In all these years, we were never able to get out to anyone what we told (the offender) that day. It seemed as though he genuinely cared and we are blessed by that more than we can say.
The Impact of Crime: A Resident Takes a Stand
On the evening of August 19, 2009 at a Safe Streets Call-In on Milwaukee's near south side, Ms. Linda Zinke, a dedicated resident of Lincoln Village, spoke on behalf of her neighborhood in front of over 75 residents, officers, and community workers; taking a stand against crime, drugs, and violence. The message was targeted at the offenders who were charged with selling drugs in her neighborhood and had attended the Call-In. Pictures of other offenders who had extensive records and were sent to prison for committing drug crimes in Lincoln Village were posted on empty chairs, and photos of houses that had sold drugs were posted around the room. At the center, Ms. Zinke took a stand and demanded change.
Ms. Zinke, also President of the Lincoln Heights Neighborhood Association, shared a staggering account of the impact of crime, drugs and violence on a vibrant community. That evening, she so eloquently communicated the horrendous negative influence of these behaviors, and her passion to make a positive change permeated the room. The following is her speech:
I am here to tell you how you have contributed to the devastation of our neighborhood. Let me begin by saying to you, there are no victimless crimes. Our neighborhood is my home. You sold drugs out of my home; that's why you are here. Someone wanted to buy your drugs, but they did not have the money for your drugs, so went out and they stole from a helpless elderly man or woman. Of course that person is going to try to hold on to their money or their belongings, so they get beat up, stabbed, shot, possibly killed, because you were selling your drugs out of my home and drug users wanted to get some of your drugs and they would do anything, no matter what, except get a job, to get them. Now, the elderly person they attacked and beat and robbed, if they lived, had to be taken to the hospital, they were injured very badly. Along with the pain and suffering that they endured physically, the very small amount of money they get each month from Social Security, that they actually worked for all their lives is gone, and they can't pay their bills or buy their food for the month. Not to mention the fact that they now owe a huge amount of medical bills thanks to the fact that you were selling drugs out of my home.
Our neighborhood is my home. Prostitutes wanted your drugs, so they came once again into my home, to buy your drugs, and they don't want to get too far away from you and the drugs that you are selling out of my home, so they are out on the streets around my home flagging down men who can't do better for themselves than to pay for sex from a complete stranger carrying all sorts of diseases. They are also buying your drugs from my home, these so called men, let's call them johns, and the prostitutes, high and disease ridden, are really filthy, and they think nothing of throwing their disgusting used condoms out on the floor of my home, along with the dirty, diseased needles and other drug paraphernalia they have used to do their drugs that you sold out of my home, not to mention the fact that they have no problem having their sex and drugs in front of the small children who live and play in my home. Every day, I and my neighbors have to come out of our houses that we work very hard to maintain, physically and financially, and we have to clean up after these filthy, diseased by products of your customers, before we can let our children out to play. Another byproduct of your drug dealing out of my home is that the women and the young girls who are not prostitutes are being followed and harassed by these pathetic drug addicted men who are looking for prostitutes and are too stupid or too high from the drugs you are selling from my home to know the difference. This too has a high price paid by all of us, the safety and well being of the young girls and women, and the degrading atmosphere that you and your drug dealing have caused in my home.
Mothers, who may have been good mothers, buy your drugs, maybe thinking it will relieve some of the pressures in their lives for a short time. They get addicted to your drugs, and they sell their food stamps to get your drugs that you are selling out of my home, so their children are going hungry on a daily basis. Sometimes the only meal they get is at school where a food program has been set up. Later in the day they depend on the kindness of neighbors for a meal, and they make excuses for their mother's lack of attentiveness to them. Really, the cost of you selling drugs out of my home is far too high for me and my neighbors. Our children see that you are selling drugs out of our home, and maybe they will try your drugs, get addicted, steal from us, their own parents, neighbors, friends, or rob a business. The cost of you doing your drug business from my home is far too high.
Even though you have done all of this from my home, it is not enough for you; you are greedy, but there are other greedy people who want to steal your drugs. They are going to rob and shoot you and take over your business, but being the low life coward that you are, you run down the streets of my home and they chase you, shooting, but being the lousy shots that they are, they hit an innocent person, one who lives in my home, works hard for a living, raising a family, or they or you, if you are shooting back at these people, hit one of the small children living in my home, and you, with your drugs for sale, or the people who want to steal your drugs, go on, saying we didn't mean to shoot that child, or that man, or that woman, they were just in the way of business. The cost of your business is far too high for me and for my neighbors in our home.
The streets of our home are filthy; they are not safe to walk down, and the children in my neighborhood cannot ride a bike down a sidewalk safely without some thug you do business with trying to take it to sell it to buy drugs from someone like you. Our homes have been robbed of our belongings, our cars have been broken into or stolen, our friends and neighbors have been attacked and beaten, all because you were selling drugs out of our home. Businesses that are vital to our neighborhood are disappearing because of you and the devastation you have brought into our home. You have brought fear into our home for a while, but fear breeds contempt and anger, anger against you. You and the drug users and prostitutes also cost us with higher property taxes and rents because of the higher cost of city services that you make necessary because you are selling drugs out of our home, but the worth of our homes is decreasing because of the chaos you have brought into our home.
My neighborhood is my home! You are costing us far too much to allow you or to continue to sell drugs from our home, you and other people who are selling drugs in our neighborhood have to be stopped. There are no victimless crimes, and we, as a neighborhood are watching you and you have been given an opportunity by hearing us speak about what you have done to devastate our home, Our home is our neighborhood, we did not invite you here to destroy it, we are watching you and others like you, and we will work together, and with the Police to make sure you do not continue to destroy our home. You had better figure it out, or you will go to jail.
Teacup
Story from a Prisoner
A couple went into an antique shop one day and found a beautiful teacup sitting on a shelf. They took it off the shelf so they could look at it more closely and said, we really want to buy this gorgeous cup.
All of a sudden, the teacup began to talk, saying, I wasn't always like this. There was a time when I was just a cold, hard, colorless lump of clay. One day my mister picked me up and said, 'I could do something with this.' Then he started to pat me, roll me, and change my shape. I said what are you doing? That hurts. I don't know if I want to look like this! Stop! But he said, 'not yet.' Then he put me on a wheel and began to spin me around and around and around, until I screamed, 'let me off, I am getting dizzy!' 'Not yet' he said.
Then he shaped me into a cup and put me in a hot oven. I cried, 'Let me out! It's hot in here, I am suffocating.' But, he just looked at me through that little glass window and smiled and said, 'not yet.'
When he took me out, I thought his work on me was over, but then he started to paint me. I couldn't believe what he did next. He put me back into the oven, and I said, 'you have to believe me, I can't stand this! Please let me out.' But he said, 'not yet.'
Finally, he took me out of the oven and set me up on a shelf where I thought he had forgotten me. Then, one day he took me off the shelf and held me before a mirror. I couldn't believe my eyes, I had become a beautiful teacup that everyone wants to buy.
Two Sisters - My First Victim Offender Dialogue
Story told by Professor Geske:
A young man called a restaurant to have food delivered to a particular address where it was obvious that no one was home. The young man hid in the bushes waiting for the deliveryman to arrive. When the deliveryman, a father in his late 50s, arrived, the offender pointed the gun at him and told him to drop the food and he was going to take the money. The gun went off and killed the man (the offender always contended that the gun went off accidently).
The daughters of the victim approached me and wanted to do a Victim/Offender dialogue. After working with the victims for months, they were willing to hear the offender tell them the death of their father was not intentional. Like most victim/survivors, there were a number of things they wanted to know, along with the opportunity to confront the offender. Two primary questions were on their minds: whether or not their father struggled and whether he fell flat on his face or face up. Unless put in that situation, it is hard for outsiders to know why particular information is so important to them.
The dialogue was extremely moving and answered many of the sisters' questions including affirmation that their father did not struggle. However, the offender could not give any insight to whether or not their father fell face up or face down because the minute the gun went off, he ran. The dialogue ended with one sister hugging the offender and telling him that she has forgiven him. Additionally, the other sister told the offender that after six years, she was finally able to put a picture of her father back up on the wall.
After the dialogue, I dropped the sisters off before heading to the law school to teach my evening evidence class. I was so moved by the dialogue that I wanted to tell the class about it generally. I vaguely explained the crime and how moving the experience was. I mentioned something about the cemetery because it had been particularly moving.
A middle-aged male student came up to me after class and asked some questions about the case. He asked if the crime occurred in Racine County, and then asked if it was a particular person (naming the victim). My heart dropped as I thought that I may have violated confidentiality. I quickly asked him not to tell anyone about the case and, as he was leaving the classroom, I asked how he knew the case. He responded that he recognized it from the cemetery.
I was upset with myself because that information was not really needed. Why did I even tell that story? I quickly collected myself and ran down the hall to stop the student to ask how he knew that particular information. I asked him whether he worked for the police department, whether he was there, whether he answered the 9-1-1 call? (The offender always claimed that he made a 9-1-1 call). The student said that he did not know if there was a call or not, he said he heard the gun shot and was the first person to the scene.
Hearing this, I saw the opportunity to ask him if he remembered whether the victim was face up or face down. He said, "Sure, he was face up." I called the sisters after this conversation. About an hour and a half after I had dropped them off, I was able to answer that last question. Somehow, with the odds of all that happening, it is just incredible. It was not only moving for me, but also amazingly moving for the sisters.
Community Circle Stories
Josefina: Story #1
Josefina is a single mother of three, whose oldest is a fourteen-year-old charged with the responsibility of being the man of the house. He is so often forced to act like an adult that it is tough for Josefina to remember he is still only a kid and is going through the same growth, awkwardness, and rebellion that many fourteen-year-olds experience.
It was perhaps no surprise then that the first story to come to Josefina's mind was one that hit close to home. Josefina frequently holds circles on the south side of Milwaukee with recently released violent offenders ranging from ages eighteen to thirty. Frequently, these circles discuss the impact of violence and crime on the surrounding community. However, at one of these circles, the discussion took a slightly different turn.
Attempting to illustrate how violence had affected him, one man discussed how he was raised: by a single mother, responsible for six brothers, in an environment full of violence, abuse, and neglect. As he spoke about how that upbringing shaped his outlook and transgressions, how that was the only way of life he had known and the only way he could live, other men joined in with similar stories raised by single parents, caring for several siblings, surrounded by danger and an acceptance of crime as routine. A pattern was emerging.
On one hand, Josefina was worried the circle had turned into a blame game, each man claiming he committed his crimes solely because of the way he was raised. On the other hand, what they were saying was irrefutable: that life was the only one they had lived, it had molded them, and a large part of that lifestyle was the single-parent structure of their households. And while the men in those circles often make points that Josefina can identify with, this hit hard: was this how her son felt? Was she giving him too much responsibility, too soon? Does he feel stifled by the demands of adulthood when he is still just a teen, and should she cut him a little more slack when he voices his displeasure with his station?
Story #2
Josefina sees a lot of uplifting things in her circles, but also a lot of sad ones. Working with the Native American community, she often hears about the pitfalls of alcoholism and its ability to drag entire families down with it. What this sometimes means is that young Native American men are led astray, into lives of gangs and violence, and become reluctant to participate in community circles when they get the chance.
One of these men was different. He had served prison time for an extremely violent crime, gutting a man, but was surprisingly willing to engage in circles, not only talking freely about his family's troubles and his quest to earn enough money to send his children to summer camp, but forming a connection with the community prosecutor, also a Native American. This young man seemed truly moved by the power of restorative justice circles.
However, things do not always turn out as you hope. After attending each circle judiciously for months, one day he simply stopped showing up. It was as if he had dropped off the face of the earth. Josefina and the community prosecutor heard nothing from him for a long time, until they received news that he was on the run from the law, not for a violent crime, but for receiving a ticket for biking in a prohibited area.
Now, Josefina understood why the police would cite him for such an offense; he was recently in prison for an extremely violent crime and, naturally, the police would be hyper-vigilant of him. Still, it frustrated Josefina: here was a man who at every turn showed a desire to change his ways and was making every hard-fought effort to do so, yet such a minor infraction had knocked him off his path. He had gone from gaining his life back to losing it all; his willpower, his children, his hope of sending them to summer camp. Josefina had truly helped this man, had made a strong attachment to him, and became convinced it would all end up worth it. And then?
Prisoner Stories
Strength - Faith - Courage
- It took a lot of courage to relive your past,
- It took a lot of strength to survive and last,
- It took a lot of faith to move one with your lives,
- But it took all three in order to survive?
A Letter to Survivors:
A prisoner's response to listening to the stories of three survivors in a restorative justice circle at Green Bay Correctional Institute.
I am an entirely left brained individual and therefore am unable to write a poem, song, or draw a picture. This is what I can do and will do for the survivors who spoke to us and to me.
Although the three of you had very different crimes in which you survived and overcame, there was definitely a common theme to which all of you spoke upon. As I stated, I have long believed, and still do deep down, that there is a criminal hierarchy within the system that applies to the harm caused by our actions. I have a superiority complex because I believed that I was on top of that.
This has dramatically affected my way of thinking. Intellectually I know that the crimes are not different, as the most traumatic event seems to be the fact that the victims are not in control of their lives at that time, and their life is in the hands of someone who quite clearly does not have their best interest in mind. The fear, enhanced emotional awareness and compulsive reaction is in the same sphere as those of another entirely different offense.
Another revelation that is new to me is that of the survivors of a crime, those that were not there but were left to clean up the pieces, especially those left behind when someone they love is murdered. This is an entirely new concept to me that the ones left in this world go through the same pains and loss of self when their loved ones are killed. The way it was articulated of every single thought and feeling that transpired at the time of the news makes it abundantly clear to me that they are just as affected as those who survived a crime to their physical body.
At one time I used to believe that victims were weak for needing counseling and all these groups and meetings to get over this incident that occurred for only minutes within their relatively long lives. I figured they should just get over it as I did. Through listening to your stories, and through self exploration, I have come to realize that I took the easy way out, and it takes more strength to speak about the crime and seek help than to do as I did and become the aggressor. I have come to realize that I took the easy way out in thinking that I would become the one who hurt others so that no one would think to hurt me. I figured that if I was aggressive enough and tough enough, then no one would want to try me. It seems that which I feared is what drove me to become that which other people fear.
There is a poem that I would like to share, it is not my work but I believe that it can be applied. The author is Rupert Brooke and it was written at the time of World War I, "If I should die, think only this of me: that there is some corner of a foreign field that is forever England." At the time, that was obviously quite literal. I use it figuratively here, as even after you have all left, there is still some corner of a prison in which you will forever remain and what we experienced today will remain with us always!
The Inner Battle
A night of anger, arrogance, or spite Forces you to face the consequences of your error, Confined by steel and stone, you must do what's right. You must learn to feel and start to cure.
The time you are trapped in this world of hate Need not conquer you or give you pause, Because giving into negativity will assure your fate, And you will never escape your confinements cause.
Wisdom and insight must lend the way. Anyone can steal, hurt or cause pain Without wisdom and insight, yourself you will always betray And a life of freedom you will never regain.
Take this time and do what is best, Allowing yourself to have a second chance. Take life's challenges and off of it's tests, And become a person whose life will continue to be enhanced.
Lives in Transition:
"While we claim to be looking at someone else, we are always looking at ourselves." - Jamake Highwater, from The Primal Mind
We began each day by walking into a once ordinary room that is centered by a strange object in prison . . . a candle. We sit in a circle that, for three days, became a community of sorts . . . a Cheers type of place where everyone knows your name. The room became a small unlikely village that existed on the outer fringes of two diverse worlds. For three days, those worlds were intertwined.
A circle is a unique shape. It has no real beginning or end; there are no corners that allow for one to hide; there are no angles that allow one to escape the reality that, while in the circle, each person will have to sit face to face with another.
And in the center of this village, is the omnipresent candle, it acts as a beacon for those who might lose their way as they attempt to travel an unexpected path.
And all the while, as Highwater notes, as we claim to look at someone else, we cannot help but look at ourselves, for the people in the circle act as mirrors, and what they see of us is a reflection of who we are.
Over a three day period we were given the opportunity to speak about things that we might never have said on our own. By virtue of the circle, we were able to see how alike we truly were, for many of us, when passing the globe that gave us our voice, often separated it looking deep within its broken core as if to find the words that we wished to say. Each of us searched its battered contours with our fingers; and, each of us seemed to be relieved when we could pass that ball to our neighbor.
And all the while the candle burned brightly, highlighting our discomfort for all to see; the small wisp of black smoke acting as a ribbon that attached us to the sky, and connected us further with something much greater than us.
We heard the stories of some remarkable people that allowed us to glimpse a part of their private worlds. We were able to witness a uniquely quiet dignity born not of despair, but of courage and spirit.
A few hours from now the circle, the small village that we created will be broken . . . and the candle will be extinguished one last time.
But, ideas cannot be extinguished. Dignity cannot be extinguished. Courage cannot be extinguished . . . a village, once made, cannot truly be extinguished . . . a village, once made, cannot truly be extinguished because, like a family, it exists in the hearts and minds of those who were privileged enough to belong.
"Great things," a Kikuyu proverb states, "begins with such small things as these." A broken ball; a scented candle; a circle . . . and us!
What Is Strength?
Is strength being able to manhandle an 80-year-old lady by slamming her to the ground head first and taking her belongings.
Or is it three guys robbing three innocent unsuspecting people at gunpoint and leaving a permanent mark on their lives.
Or is it hiding behind a bush like an animal waiting for an innocent woman to go by so you can jump out, victimize her and destroy and impact her life forever.
No, maybe it's being able to pull a gun out. Squeeze the trigger and take a loving father from his family.
Or is it getting drunk and getting behind the wheel of a vehicle and crashing into a promising young man, robbing him and his family of that promising future.
No, it has to be just being able to destroy lives without caring who gets hurt as long as you think you have the power.
If that's strength, please do keep it to yourself, because I don't want or need any of it. So I turned to the dictionary for the definition of strength and it read as follows: strength is those who refuse to be someone's victim but a survivor of their heinous act.
Strength is taking back the power and control that the perpetrator tried to take from you and it's also having the courage to take such a horrible experience and create positives out of it, like being able to share your experience to help yourself and others.
Strength is what I've seen in this group for the last few days, it's the openness, the empathy, the caring, and the vigilance that has been displayed, and also the desire that myself and the other inmates have expressed to no longer be victimizers and leaving victims in our wake. Let these things ring true in all of our hearts and be the true definition of STRENGTH.
Have You Ever Looked At Someone and Wondered What Their Story Was?
I mean, everyone has to have a story right? It's like on the outside, a person can seem so peaceful and serene. However, beyond the smile there is a testimony beyond measure. And how are you to respond to such a testimony? A story which delivers such an impact deserves more than the usual platitudes. "Are you okay? It'll be alright", or "I'm sorry to hear that." You can hear about something tragic on the news and feel for a person. But to hear it directly and feel the emotion that another human being feels is one of the most powerful feelings known to man. Feeling your pain makes me feel like we are connected. I used to believe that vicariously experiencing something held little or no value, but within three days I realize nothing could be further from the truth. I once heard a man say that adversity builds character. But to see that character manifested is a wonderful thing. It shows how quickly and triumphantly we can overcome such hardship. I aspire to be such a person.
The Real Me -
inspired by Samuel Johnson's quote "Whatever enlarges hope will also bring out courage."
I keep my mask with me wherever I may go; In case I need to cover up so the real me doesn't show; Here in Restorative Justice I'll remove my mask; But I want you to try and understand to accept what you see.
There were others who passed me or met me each day; But never one of them stopped to see if I was okay. I know there were many such chances before; But the others, Well they didn't see it anymore.
There are times when encouragement means such a lot; And a word is enough to carry it; There were others who could have; As easy as not, But just the same they didn't say it.
I've been defeated by many and have been lost without a hope; And more times than few; I've had my back pushed up against the ropes; But through all that only one fact remains; I'm a survivor, and I always come out ahead of the game.
I've lost so much time I'm afraid that I'll never catch back up. And it seems like life's plan; Is to keep me stuck in this slump; But from the ashes I'll rise; To shake off the day's pains; Don't forget the mask I wore to hide, All my shames . . .
Survivor
A survivor is someone that has encountered misfortune when trouble and chaos intrudes on what's important. Life is so significant, however it can be complicated and miserable. It's apparent that this pain is excessive and unbearable. Let's understand that we are reliable to ourselves and every barrier can be eliminated. I know it's easier said than done, however how can it get done if the effort we put forth is none.
The capability of self is far beyond belief and a great understanding brings things into existence so the eyes can instantly see. We possess strength and confidence and that displays self-assurance. Now we know what we are built for and that is extreme endurance. Someone surviving changing conditions was one in the position of being a victim, whether if it's being a victim of self or someone else with malicious intentions. I am a survivor and that's the verdict, now I can feel myself no longer hurting.
From Students
The Compassion of Victims
I have learned that even the worst offenders are human beings and that there is room for compassion for them. In fact, I am amazed at the capacity many victims have to have compassion for those who hurt them. I still struggle myself to let go of anger at offenders and some of the atrocities they have committed. However, I find great hope in the process of Restorative Justice, hope for healing, hope for our future.
Everyone Has a Story
I think it has affected me in countless ways. It mostly reinforced and expanded my belief that everyone has a story to tell, and by hearing other people's stories, we cannot help but see them as more human and worthy of compassion. After seeing that humanity, we are changed in ways we do not fully understand or comprehend. But I know that, at least for me, I'm forever grateful for people being brave enough to share those stories, and give me a chance to see them a little more clearly.
People Have Deep Connections With One Another
Restorative Justice and storytelling has shown me that people, no matter how different superficially, have deep connections with one another. We are inter-related through our experiences: everyone has been hurt or has someone important in their lives. We all have sameness that storytelling, and listening, allows us all to recall. What a comfort it is to know that someone else may know what it is like and that this too shall pass!
My Exposure
My exposure to Restorative Justice has affected me, because it made me realize that everyone has a story to tell; that you have a lot more in common with people than you ever thought possible and that listening to someone can be very meaningful. I think storytelling is very important in a world where people pass information so quickly and rarely take the time to sit and talk. It also gives a very different perspective on the criminal justice system.
Strength
It's made me realize that you can find strength even in the worst situations.
Mother/Daughter Relationship
Restorative Justice and storytelling has impacted my relationship with my mother in that I have become better able to understand the source of the ripple that began long ago, moved through her, and has affected my life. Identifying this point of origin (or perhaps just an earlier spot in the ripple) has given me a sense of peace and empathy that I didn't have before.
To Be Listened To
My exposure to Restorative Justice has helped open my eyes to the tragedy of living within a society filled with individuals that do not see each other. It has shown me that we are all capable of goodness and evil, of apathy and empathy, of true love and deep hatred. We all have abilities to share with the world. In the same way, we have all wronged others in some way, but we all have the need and the right as human beings to be listened to.
A Dialogue
Restorative Justice has been an eye opening experience for me. I was fortunate enough to meet with an offender who was in prison for a homicide while drunk driving, the father and stepmother of the girl who was killed, and then the three of them together. The offender was sorry for what he had done, but had fear that the father and stepmother had deeply held anger and hatred toward him that would come out in a meeting. The father and stepmother were concerned for the offender's well being, and their fear was that the offender wouldn't learn from the experience, and he would make choices that would negatively impact others, and do disservice to the girl who had died. When the offender met with the parents, there was a high level of emotion. The victims emphasized that what the offender did was wrong, but they forgave him and were happy to see that the offender had resolved to make lifestyle changes, was implementing those changes, and wanted to make an impact on the lives of those who had issues with drinking and driving.
Both sides saw that the other cared, and they were all glad that they did the dialogue.
A Class in Law School
Law school can be a pretty intimidating place. The classes are big, competitive and difficult, full of smart people with a lot of drive and talent. It's scary sometimes.
Aside from the learning itself, Restorative Justice class has afforded me a special feeling of warmth and closeness to all of the members of the class. We built a little community in our class this semester by hearing each others' stories. There is probably no other experience like this in any other law school class, and I doubt there is any other class that builds this kind of community.