A New Way of Life

Linking promise with opportunity

Susan

Susan Burton’s Prison Book Tour: Federal Correctional Institution, Aliceville, AL

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I visited the Federal Correctional Institution in Aliceville, Alabama in July. Miss Alice Johnson had recently been released from there after Donald Trump commuted her sentence, and the women there seemed really really hopeful. But for me, I’m just now able to talk about the trip because it was an extremely hard trip for me. Walking into the prison and seeing the women stripped of their identities, stripped of their individuality, stripped of their humanity hit me much harder than it usually does. Even though the women were trying to have hopel, I recognized those symptoms of dehumanization as I peered from my podium at them. It wasn’t that it was different from any other prison, but some days you have so much more clarity, and that day, it was really apparent to me.

On the way to the prison, I’d driven through woods that seemed like the woods that people were lynched in. It felt eerie and heavy. There was a long, obscure drive to get to Aliceville, and I thought about how hard it must be for family and friends to go and visit the women. All of these things rambled through my brain as I drove.

I left Aliceville feeling really burdened with what I saw, with my soul speaking to me. The next day, after visiting that prison, I went to visit Bryan Stevenson’s Legacy Museum and the National Memorial for Peace and Justice, which remembers the victims of lynching. I could see the parallels between 21st century killings of Black people and what had happened historically in this country. I was just solemn.

Then the next day, I went to Tutwiler Prison for Women in Wetumpka, Alabama to visit Geneva Cooley, a woman I met during a visit there about a year ago. She was handed a 999-year sentence for drug possession. The reality is that she’ll die in prison for drugs if something isn’t done to get her released.

My visit was scheduled for 11:00 am, and I got there at 10:15. I was told I couldn’t see Geneva because I had on a sleeveless dress, so I went out to my car and put on my pajama top. Even though I got there 45 minutes early, I didn’t get in to see Geneva until almost a quarter to noon. I grew more and more concerned as I waited, but I was too scared to ask what was taking so long because I knew they had the power not to let me in. So I just sat it out. The entire process spoke to the powerlessness people have when they’re in prison and that even their visitors have.

When I was finally admitted to see her, Geneva and I went into a room where the paint was peeling and faded, and the desk was all wobbly and broke. Before I arrived, Geneva had asked me to bring a big bag of quarters so she could go to the vending machine. She talked about not having had a visit in seven years and how excited she was to get to some free-world food, even if it was from a vending machine. But the vending machine had not been stocked. I just felt so bad for her. It was so hard.

So today is the first day I was actually able to talk about that visit. The visits get harder because I see the inhumane way that women are held and treated. And I know that we have not moved far from Jim Crow. I know that we have not made the progress that this world thinks we have made. We just don’t want to think or talk about what’s happening to people. And nothing will change until we do.

Part 2: Susan Burton’s Prison Book Tour: Wrightsville-Hawkins Men’s Unit, Arkansas

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Part 2: Susan Burton’s Prison Book Tour: Wrightsville-Hawkins Men’s Unit, Arkansas

While I was in Arkansas I visited the men’s side of the Wrightsville-Hawkins Unit, where they also have a Think Legacy program. My experience there was profound in ways that I had never imagined.

In my book, “Becoming Ms. Burton,” I wrote about being raped at the age of 14 on my way home from a Christmas party with a friend. I didn’t tell a soul until my English teacher noticed a change in my physical appearance and asked if I might be pregnant. I was now forced to come clean to my mother about what had happened to me, but to her, the circumstances of my pregnancy didn’t matter, and she sent me away for the last half of my pregnancy to a facility for pregnant, unwed teenagers.

I don’t remember the trial for the boys who raped me; I just remember being given a lot of directions on where to go, where to sit, and what to say. After the trial I was returned to the facility where I was being housed and awaited the birth of my child. I felt hurt, rejected and profoundly alone.

I have only visited two men’s prisons on my book tour so far, and the way my story has resonated with many of the men I’ve met has surprised me. But one of the men at Wrightsville blew me away. During my discussion, this man stood up and said that after reading my book he felt like he needed to apologize to me for the rape I experienced many years ago. He told me that 23 years ago, he raped a woman and had been in prison for it ever since.

I was deeply moved. No one had ever apologized for what happened to me. I felt like some type of amends were coming to me through this stranger I’d never met. It was courageous of him to stand up and be vulnerable in front of 40 other men. To me, he demonstrated that he has taken responsibility for what he did. I accepted his apology and told him that I was really sorry that he had to be in prison for 23 years. It does not take 23 years to correct your actions.

There was another man during my visit who was visibly filled with remorse and shared his story of watching his wife be kidnapped while he was doing drugs. He told me that he is still haunted by what he did and he’s trying to find a way to apologize to his wife.

The deep discussions that I had in Arkansas showed me what can happen when people in prison are given programs to help them work through their pain. The Think Legacy program is bringing men and women to a new level of heightened awareness and responsibility. The six month program focuses on employability, family reunification, cognitive behavior therapies, anger management, substance abuse, parenting, thinking errors, victim impact, budgeting, credit building and various other components.

Before I left, the Wrightsville Inmate Council presented me with a plaque that reads:

On behalf of the entire population, the Wrightsville Inmate Council would like to express our sincere appreciation for your service and dedication to cause of recovery and reentry. Your commitment to helping others has been essential in opening doors that otherwise would have remained closed to those seeking a second chance. Thank you and best wishes on all your future endeavors.

My trip to the three facilities in Arkansas felt a lot different than my trips to other prisons, and I left feeling more hopeful than I often do when I leave a prison. I’m not sure what the key ingredient is in Arkansas, but what they’re doing there is working.

Part 1: Susan Burton’s Prison Book Tour: McPherson & Wrightsville-Hawkins Units, Arkansas

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Part 1: Susan Burton’s Prison Book Tour: McPherson & Wrightsville-Hawkins Units, Arkansas

My interest in visiting Arkansas came after a woman named Colleen wrote to me about her experience in prison and during reentry. I was saddened by the difficulties she faced during her reentry. Colleen had been released but was incarcerated again when she couldn’t find a job. That was six years ago, and she hasn’t been able to be released again. After hearing her story, I felt I needed to visit Arkansas to look at what they were doing. 

I visited Think Legacy programs at the McPherson Unit in Newport and the Wrightsville-Hawkins Women’s Unit in Wrightsville. Think Legacy is a six month program that focuses on employability, family reunification, cognitive behavior therapies, anger management, substance abuse, parenting, thinking errors, victim impact, budgeting, credit building, and other areas.

When I got there I met Nicole Smart, the Think Legacy treatment coordinator for the Arkansas Department of Corrections. Nicole is different from most correctional officers I’ve met. She showed a real respect for the rules of the Department of Corrections while at the same time honoring the humanity of the women who are being held in the prison.

My conversation with the women in the McPherson Unit was really engaging; I could tell that they had all read the book. We talked about recidivism and the importance of safe places during reentry. Many of the women had experienced trauma throughout their lives, which is typical for incarcerated women, and we talked about how things could have been different if they had had resources available to them such as therapy, job opportunities, and housing.

From our conversation, it was clear that the Think Legacy program had given the women tools to do some introspection, work on healing their trauma and plan for their lives after incarceration.

While at the prison, I acknowledged Colleen as being the person who brought Arkansas to my attention and the reason why I visited.  I encouraged all of the other women to write letters to people on the outside too, such as the governor, members of Congress, or Department of Corrections officials. Colleen is an example of what a letter can do.

My experience with the women of the Wrightsville-Hawkins Unit was equally moving and it was touching to see the warden, assistant warden, and two Board of Corrections commissioners in the audience. They seemed pleased to be supporting the women in their journey to becoming better people.

The Think Legacy program has really gotten the attention of the Department of Corrections. I wish the program much success and it is my hope that they will invest in more internal programs and in reentry programs for women after they are released.

I also hope that there will be an investment in reentry so that women have somewhere safe to live after they’re released. This goes for every state but especially Arkansas, where there are not enough reentry homes to support the vast number of women who can be released into the community.

Susan Burton’s Prison Book Tour: Swannanoa Correctional Center for Women, Black Mountain, NC

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Susan Burton’s Prison Book Tour: Swannanoa Correctional Center for Women, Black Mountain, NC

Earlier this month, I visited over 400 women at Swannanoa Correctional Center for Women in North Carolina.

Some of the women had already read my book. Several of them explained that they could have written the same book because they’d had nearly the same experiences prior to incarceration that I had had. Hearing this made me think about how women’s reactions to trauma and abuse are criminalized in this country. We punish women’s responses when we could really do something much different. Women who’ve been through trauma need a space to confront and heal from that trauma. Several of the women I spoke with were serving 90 days as a punishment for a drug relapse. Seeing these women made me think about how so many of us are punished for our mistakes rather than supported to work through them.

It was important for me to share my journey and to let each woman know that I believed in her. I also spoke with the prison staff and social workers about creating a strategy to support the women while they are there so that they won’t relapse and return.

The reality is that women need a safe place to return to in their communities once they’re released.  We spend so much money incarcerating women instead of helping them to make a positive transition back into the community.

The majority of the women said that after they’ve been released in the past, they return to their communities and engage in the same types of behavior that landed them there. They asked if I could build a program like A New Way of Life in Ashville, North Carolina. I let them know that I hope to replicate my program across the country.

I let the women know that I support them and that I am visiting them because I believe that their lives are valuable, and that they can have a life after incarceration. It will be a struggle and a fight to get that life, but it is possible.

So many women who cycle through incarceration need to know that there is hope after incarceration. I’m really grateful that I’ve been able to visit incarcerated women across the country. Their words let me know how important the work of A New Way of Life is and how crucial it is to replicate ANWOL to help women transition back into their respective communities.

Susan Burton’s Book Tour: Louisiana Correctional Institute for Women & Elayn Hunt Correctional Facility, Louisiana

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Susan Burton’s Book Tour: Louisiana Correctional Institute for Women & Elayn Hunt Correctional Facility, Louisiana

I recently visited two prisons in Louisiana, where I had an opportunity to shift the conversation around victimhood. At these prisons, Elayn Hunt Correctional Facility and the Louisiana Correctional Institute for Women, my presentation to the women was rolled into a National Crime Victims’ Rights Week event called “Expand the Circle, Reach All Victims.” I had mixed feelings about this event.

Before I went on stage, two victim advocates from the DA’s office gave a presentation encouraging more victims to come forward. It’s true that the voices of victims need to be heard. It’s important for them to get the help they need to move beyond their trauma. However, I questioned the motivation behind this call from the DA’s office for more victims to speak up. Louisiana has the highest incarceration rate in the world, and it has always been known for its harsh sentencing. (One of the women I met there has been in prison since 1988 and has received her divinity degree behind bars. How long does Louisiana think it takes to rehabilitate someone?) Because of its financial reliance on civil forfeiture and prison labor, Louisiana has an incentive to arrest and incarcerate people. Are they saying “bring more victims forward” when what they really mean is “prosecute more people”?

As I listened to the victim advocates and waited to give my own talk, I began to think about what I was going to tell the women incarcerated in that facility. I believe that we absolutely need to “expand the circle” of victims. But there is one group of victims that is rarely heard, and that’s incarcerated women. It’s been estimated that 80 to 90 percent of women behind bars have been physically or sexually abused during their lives.

When I took the stage to speak to the women, I asked, “What about us? What about those of us who’ve been in the ‘abuse to prison pipeline’?” I reminded the women that they are victims too. It’s important that they remember that. When I asked the women in these facilities to raise their hands if they’d ever suffered abuse, more than half of them did. Where was their help? When did anyone advocate on their behalf? The answer is that most of them never got anything. Instead, they were punished for their responses to coping with trauma. We’re all humans who make mistakes, but some of us can’t afford to make mistakes. I told the women that we have to be the ones to take care of ourselves.

After I finished my talk, I signed books for 45 minutes to make sure that every woman there got an autographed copy of “Becoming Ms. Burton.” The warden got a hold of my book right before I arrived; he told me it was so compelling that he stayed up and read half the book in the middle of the night. When I wrote “Becoming Ms. Burton,” I wrote it for people in prison. I never dreamed it would have the effect it’s been having on wardens, corrections officers, prosecutors and judges. It still amazes me how many people the book has touched.

I want to thank Norris Henderson and Dolfinette Martin of Voice of the Experienced (VOTE) for accompanying me into both facilities. VOTE is a great Louisiana organization run by formerly incarcerated people. I encourage you to learn more about the work they are doing to fight mass incarceration and restore the rights of the formerly incarcerated. https://www.vote-nola.org/

Susan Burton’s Book Tour: Albany County Correctional Facility, Albany, NY

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I recently returned from Albany where I visited with a group of 20 women who were in a drug rehab program at Albany County Correctional Facility, along with Paul Grondahl of New York State Writers Institute and Dr. Alice Green of the Center for Law and Justice in Albany. It was striking for me to see the women assemble in the room in their identical orange uniforms. To me, that showed what incarceration can do: it takes away a person’s individuality and identity, stripping them of the very things that make them who they are.

Since it was a smaller group than I usually meet with on my tour, this visit was more intimate. We sat in a circle and I asked each woman to introduce herself and to share one of her goals. Many of the women talked about wanting to rebuild their relationships with their children. Others talked about wanting to become beauticians or pursue other careers.

Paul Grondahl (director of New York Writers Institute), Susan Burton and Dr. Alice Green (executive director of the Center for Law and Justice)

There was one woman there who was a little over 50 years old. I could tell that she had been through a lot and that she had a wall around her, so I spent some time chipping away at that wall. I told her that I was 46 the last time I was released and I was almost 50 when I started A New Way of Life Re-Entry Project. Just because she’s middle aged, her life is not over yet. It’s never too late to change your life.

When I asked the women how many of them had been incarcerated here before, every single hand went up. I wish I could say that this surprised me, but it didn’t. Recovering from addiction is an issue for so many people who cycle through incarceration. Far too often, people fail during recovery because they go back into the same old environment where there is not a lot of support for them.

A woman opened up to me about a recovery home she went to that was filled with drugs. While she was there, she had access to any drug she wanted and she just didn’t have the ability to fight her urges in the center of this drug den that was supposed to be a rehabilitation facility. I think there’s a certain level of commitment that any provider must have to keeping drugs out, and some facilities simply lack that commitment.

The women and I had a good conversation for about an hour about my book and the need for them to get reentry support. Every time I walk away from one of these facilities, I have the same feeling: that these women need to be welcomed into a home that’s drug and alcohol free and into a safe space where they will not only be allowed to heal but also be treated with dignity.  There isn’t a city or town in this country that doesn’t need a model like A New Way of Life Re-Entry Project. While I want to do everything for everybody, I know that in order to be effective, I have to focus on what is manageable. Later this year, I will be starting a new project to help others replicate what we do at ANWOL. More details on this will be coming soon.