A New Way of Life

Linking promise with opportunity

prison

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.

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.

‘This is what public safety looks like’: Survivors Speak 2018

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‘This is what public safety looks like’: Survivors Speak 2018

Survivors Speak California is an annual convention where hundreds of crime survivors from across California gather at the State Capitol in Sacramento to raise their voices about their trauma and find healing by taking action. They are joined by dozens of crime survivors from 10 different states who plan to take their learnings from Survivors Speak California to their respective communities.

A New Way of Life (ANWOL) residents and staff members and All of Us or None (AOUON) members have participated in this annual event since it began five years ago. This year’s trip was organized by Lisa James, AOUON community organizer, and included 12 participants.

“I didn’t know exactly what to expect because the last experience I had with a group of survivors was pretty intense, and it was more of the unhealthy, name-blaming, keep-people-locked-up kind of stuff,” Lisa said.

Survivors Speak created an environment that fostered healing, alongside workshops and learning opportunities.

“There was an agenda where people held themselves accountable for the traumas that they may have caused as well as looked at how they too were victims. Those that were also victims were in that space to say that they would rather see their offenders rehabilitated and healed,” Lisa explained.

The overall focus of Survivors Speak was on identifying opportunities for the participants to turn trauma into advocacy and collective healing. The Survivors Speak environment helped the group connect with their inner pain and coping mechanisms. There were workshops related to healing. But the women were also taught how to connect with their legislative leaders and advocate for themselves.

“It was all based on bringing people together and helping them understand how their voices could help in ways that would bring more services to those who have been victims and services to those who are incarcerated. This is what public safety looks like,” Lisa said.

In an effort to get the women of the ANWOL homes to engage with new housemates, Lisa paired each woman with a housemate she didn’t know that well. This worked out well and allowed the residents of ANWOL to connect with each other on new levels.

Each woman was free to choose which sessions she would attend and what other activities she would participate in. For some of the women, this was a transformative experience of freedom.

“When you transition from an environment where you’re caged up basically, when you’re limited to what you can do and how you can move and then being able to have an experience in a hotel like that, it takes away some of those limitations. I could see how they were just free to move and make decisions on their own. That liberty empowered them,” Lisa explained.

The women were no doubt impacted by the atmosphere, which allowed them to feel the safety to talk openly about their lives and stories in some of the workshops they participated in.

“It’s an eye opener for the women,” said Tiffany Johnson, ANWOL co-director. “It allows them to see that they don’t have to be victims to their trauma and that there are many people who embrace them and are there to support healing, not only of self but healing of communities and families.”

“I could hear them talking with each other about how they enjoyed being able to be in that space. You could tell that the event impacted them in positive ways, and watching them bond was amazing,” Lisa added.

One segment that stood out for a lot of the women was the speech given by Tarana Burke, founder of the #MeToo movement.

“She said that all she had been through in her life made her want to be embedded in this work because she had to make sense of it. Being a part of this work and a part of the #MeToo movement meant that she could now become an advocate and help young girls get through the trauma and sexual abuse they’ve gone through,” said Ingrid Archie, ANWOL civic engagement coordinator.

“It was kind of good to hear that because a lot of us get into this work because we’re survivors of something and we want it all to make sense.”

As reported in a Vera Institute of Justice 2016 study, “since 1970, the number of women in jail nationwide has increased 14-fold – from under 8,000 to nearly 11,000 – and now accounts for approximately half of all women behind bars in the United States.” These numbers do not include the number of women in prisons, which The Sentencing Project reported as increasing at a rate 50% higher than men since 1980.

The Vera Institute of Justice study also reported that incarcerated women are “disproportionately people of color, overwhelmingly poor and low income, survivors of violence and trauma, and have high rates of physical and mental illness and substance use.”

As more and more women are sent to prison and jail, it’s important to understand the impact abuse has had on their lives. Most incarcerated women have been victimized prior to their incarceration and have faced difficulties identifying and finding healthy avenues to heal from their traumatic experiences. For these women to see themselves as people who survived trauma, rather than former criminals, is a powerful step toward addressing the abuse-to-prison pipeline and changing the narrative surrounding incarcerated women.

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.

Susan Burton’s Book Tour: Juvenile Temporary Detention Center, Chicago

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Susan Burton’s Book Tour: Juvenile Temporary Detention Center, Chicago

This blog posting is part of an ongoing series following our founder Susan Burton as she tours prisons, jails and re-entry programs across America with her book, “Becoming Ms. Burton.” 

I recently returned from Chicago where I visited with the boys of the Juvenile Temporary Detention Center. I was joined by Paul Pearson, a law student and regular volunteer at the facility, and Bella BAHHS, a Chicago native. As I made my way through the facility during those two days, visiting with the various pods, I noticed that it was overpopulated with young Black males. I learned that 93 percent of the boys there were African American, even though Black people make up only 32 percent of the population of Chicago.

One pod that caught my attention housed four young men who were labeled as unmanageable by the staff. These boys ranged in age from 15-17. As I spoke with them, I was struck by the intelligence of the young men. They were all exceptionally bright. They told me that they had come from environments that offered them no hope whatsoever and that the things they did to try to make their lives better had landed them in jail.

I understood that hopelessness. As I cycled in and out of prison for nearly two decades, I was not once offered help, or treatment for my addiction. It was only after many years and many trips to prison that I decided enough was enough and found a private drug rehabilitation facility that allowed me to finally come back into society.

I only expected to visit with the boys for one day, but someone told me about the “Adopt a Pod” program. I arranged to come back the next day to share a meal with the four young men in the pod. They just about jumped out of their seats when I told them I would bring back ribs, chicken, and fries with “mild sauce” (a Chicago condiment).

During our meal, Paul, Bella and I assured the boys that the circumstances they were born into weren’t their fault, but they have to learn how to navigate them so they don’t end up in places like this. I let each boy know that I saw him as capable of having a great future. I could see that they were genuinely seeking guidance, which is something that they had never been given.

Our society is so quick to throw people away after they make a mistake. If only we realized the power of making someone feel like they’re cared about and important. At one point, one of the boys told us, “You make me feel human.” How heartbreaking that he hadn’t felt that way before.

I let the young men know that I was going to do what I could to stay in touch with them and offer support while they are in the detention center and after they are released. I left my business cards with the young men and asked them to keep in touch with me. I wanted to be able to provide them some type of ongoing encouragement and real resources.

Bella was as affected as I was by the experience of meeting these young men. She plans to start volunteering at the center to help the young men learn to express themselves through spoken word. I think it will be powerful for them to have a release for what they’re thinking and feeling.

I met the instructor of the barber school at the facility, Bobby Mattison, who also wants to provide resources for the boys when they are released. Standing Tall Against Recidivism (STAR) Barber College not only gives the young men their barber license, but also skills to help them become productive members of their communities.

The instructor would like to create a barbershop in the community that could be a safe landing spot for the young men after they serve their time. He shared with me that he hopes Common, a hip-hop artist who’s from Chicago, would visit the center and help them open a barbershop in the community. So Common, I am calling on you to come rescue these young men!

Before I left, one of the guards told me that our visit has been helpful for the boys as well as the guards. I am grateful that my book is resonating with people across age, gender, class and racial lines. The message is universal, and the people are getting it!