Vantage Point: Vol. 1, Issue 2

Download PDF version

Volume 1 | Issue 2 Taking a Restorative Perspective Editor: Kyle Bryant



Carveout Contentions

"Resist carveouts!" is a warning cry from criminal justice reform powerhouse, Prison Policy Initiative. According to PPI, carveouts are policies that exclude people based on the nature of their crimes.

People are desperate for change, and desperate people make desperate decisions, often at the expense of others. This is true in the advocacy world as well.

Many groups are divided by their unique interests: Felony Murder, Joint Venture, Survivors Justice, Ending LWOP, Emerging Adults, and so on. It's challenging enough to build support around each issue on its own, never mind when one group is complacent with a policy that carves out another.

Legislators feel strongly in favor of carveouts. They make policies less controversial with constituents and easier to pitch to colleagues. But an easy policy doesn't make it a good policy.

Advocates are even adept at stringing others along, claiming that their bill is just a "first step" and promising to "come back for you later." Even if their intentions are sincere, history paints a different picture.

PPI points out that DECADES of policy reforms have NOT lead to the comebacks that were promised. Legislators are reluctant to revisit an issue - at least for a very long time.

Drop LWOP New England has taken on the hardest challenge - we fight for the ones that others are willing to carve out first.

So, let's avoid legislation that leaves others behind and never lose sight that Together Everyone Achieves More (T.E.A.M.).

— Farooq (RI/MA)


Director’s Cut

Thank you all for the positive feedback on this newsletter — your support motivates us to keep moving forward. We encourage everyone to get involved by submitting contributions, ideas, and suggestions. In this issue, my husband's "Real Talk" highlights how advocacy for incarcerated loved ones often carries emotional tolls. His message reminds us to show gratitude and compassion for their sacrifices.

As the Executive Director, I want to emphasize collective courage. We’re not just working to pass laws but to shift an entire culture. America’s response to crime and violence is rooted in a culture that favors punishment over redemption, which makes this work so challenging. Those of us who believe in compassion and accountability are in the cultural minority, and feelings often outweigh data in politics.

Real cultural change requires two things: (1) our community hearing true accountability for harm, and (2) more of us speaking out from our minority perspective. Culture won’t shift until more people stand up and advocate for change. So, when my husband speaks of "exploring ways to effectively advocate for yourself," I invite you to start with understanding what accountability really means — owning your actions. Restorative justice teaches us that it’s a “way of life,” practiced in all relationships and situations. While respecting everyone’s emotional journey, we believe collective courage is essential to ending death-by-incarceration sentences. Each of us has a role in this vital transformation.

— Dr. Brashani Reece


Shoreline of Redemption

In 1993, Scott Kirwan joined the Navy. He was searching for purpose; yet, what he found was trauma. The military offered Scott help, but he rejected it. According to him, "I didn't know who I could trust, so I kept everything bottled inside." After five years of service, Scott was honorably discharged. Except, it didn't feel honorable to him. He knew the truth. He felt the disgrace. Cocaine numbed his pain. It also clouded his judgement. At the lowest point of his own life, he tragically took someone else's.

No excuses. No justifications. Just regret. During 27 years of incarceration, Scott has sought out resources to mold himself into the model citizen that he always dreamed to be. In 2021, Scott appealed to the Governor to commute his Life Without Parole sentence. He was denied. A year later he petitioned again. What could he lose? Surprise! It was granted. He received a hearing. During the commutation proceedings, Scott pleaded his case.

Accountability? Check. Remorse? Check. Rehabilitation? Check. Commutation of Sentence? Check! A miracle, right? Maybe. The Governor still has to sign off on the Board's decision. It's a nail biter. The Governor's Advisory Board validated what his supporters have always known. Scott truly transformed his life and has earned his second chance. Here's hoping that Governor Healey actually signs off on that chance.

— Kyle Bryant (MA)


Strength Through Purpose

Nineteen years ago, everything fell apart. I was 48, sentenced to LWOP, and brutally bitter. It all felt unjust. Regardless of the circumstances, I am responsible. I selfishly took an innocent life. I can only blame myself. Then prison. My first five years was the blame game. I fell into a dark depression and was very close to a permanent check out. Two things saved my life: Norfolk Sports and Restorative Justice (RJ).

In sports I found community. Tommy "TX" Birks nicknamed me "Stat-man." I laughed, it stuck. My first RJ Responsibility Retreat blew me away. Victims and offenders weaving an inconceivable bond. Healed people heal people: Purpose! I was sold. Today I find strength through helping others along with a quote from Wounded Warrior: Don't give up yet.

— Ken Scott Richards (MA)

I selfishly took an innocent life. I can only blame myself.

The Cultivation of Hope

Some people in prison are innocent. This is an indisputable fact. But others feign innocence out of shame of the truth, fear of the consequences, or both. They have not come to terms with their crimes and have numbed themselves from their guilt and remorse. Under the threat of Death-By-Incarceration (DBI) they see no incentive for accountability. Their only hope of freedom is through an acquittal or a technical error in their trial. They view telling the truth as sealing their fate.

For many, this has now changed. The Mattis decision has abolished DBI for emerging adults ages 18-20, causing a sudden burst of introspection — excavating the shame and facing the fear. Mattis beneficiaries await strenuous inquisitions from specialized classification hearings and the state parole board. They now realize that the value of taking responsibility lies in its cultivation of hope.

— Kyle Bryant (MA)


Statement of Accountability

I was 24 years old when I killed a man in the city of Holyoke, MA. He was a father, a son, a brother, and a significant other. I robbed him and his loved ones of all the beauty, emotions, and experiences associated with those roles. I alone am responsible for the pain, heartache, and suffering my victim's loved ones have endured since his murder. I am sorry to each of them. I am sorry to my community for making it unsafe. While I once distributed heroin and committed other violent crimes before committing murder, I am the complete opposite today. I am an active participant in community building and healing. I have worked on learning about the traumas that contributed to me being the walking wound who harmed my community, victims, and family.

My work includes education, Restorative Justice, programs facilitator, peer mentor, and mental health. Why do I work? Because I have caused harm that may never be healed. And if I can help one person begin on a path of healing, perhaps that person will help another. I work on healing because I never want to harm another living creature. I believe that healing allows a person to become the best version of themselves. I am not the same person at 50 that I was at 24. I have not wasted 26 years. My name is Ray Colon and the more I heal, the more accountable I live.

— Ray Colon (MA)


TUDO DJUNTO'

Bringing Black Unity Back To Our Community Tudo Djunto' (All Together) is a grass-roots organization which originated in MCI-Norfolk in 2014 by a group of Cabo Verdeans who realized the harm we caused to our families and communities. We wanted to give back, reconcile, and end the violence. Our solution was Tudo Djunto'. We are dedicated to changing the plight of the inner-city youths. Our goal is to END BLACK ON BLACK VIOLENCE. We believe it is our responsibility to equip the kids with the tools, resources, and hope to break the cycle of violence we contributed to. Tudo Djunto' has made progress. Our work has united men who were once notorious rivals.

Our work has united men who were once notorious rivals.

Today they see each other as Brothers. The community now embraces our movement for Peace and Unity. This summer was a major milestone for Tudo Djunto'. We hosted Block Parties on 3 Boston streets - simultaneously. Cookouts; Music; Dancing; Family Reunions; and Fun Activities for the kids. Former rivals came by and endorsed us. Some young "Active" individuals even passed through — Drama Free!!! We will continue to be Agents of Hope for our communities and show the younger Brothers and Sisters that Tudo Djunto' is a better way.

— John “John*SUN” P. Gomes (MA)


Life Without Parole Awareness Day

On November 3, 2023 the United Nations Human Rights Council concluded a six month investigation with its first ever public condemnation of the U.S. for its use of "cruel, " "inhumane, " and "degrading" criminal justice practices.

The Council even issued a moratorium against America's practice of condemning people to die in prison (LWOP). While the UN doesn't have the power to enforce this moratorium, it serves as a message that the world is watching. To honor this event, Drop LWOP New England aspires to codify November 3rd as National Life Without Parole Awareness Day.

The jury is still out on the verdict, but we're moving forward with open hearts and open minds to wherever the process might lead. We invite each of you to observe this day with us, albeit informally, and in your own way raise awareness to what an LWOP sentence means to you.

— Farooq (RI/MA)


Hope: A Life-Altering Necessity

On January 11, 2024, the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court ruled, in Commonwealth v. Mattis, 493 Mass. 216 (2024), that imposing Life Without Parole (LWOP) sentences on offenders aged 18-20 at the time of the crime was unconstitutional under Article 26 of the Massachusetts Declaration of Rights and the Eighth Amendment. Surprisingly, this decision has become a life-altering event for most state prisoners throughout the Commonwealth, provoking a stunning transformation in attitudes. Almost overnight there has been an upheaval of optimism, not only for the 18-20 year old "emerging adults" that Mattis primarily addresses, but for most prisoners regardless of their sentence. It was perhaps inevitable that the many left behind, having together shared the suffering of this harshest sentences for 30, 40, or 50 years of incarceration without any hope, now unexpectedly witnessing their comrades eagerly move towards parole and likely release, would themselves feel a spark of hope.

What is hope? Hope is difficult to pin down, capture, or define. The concept has been weighed and dissected by optimists, rejected by pessimists, contemplated by philosophers, studied by investigators, yet remains difficult to know or trust or grasp. But all seem to acknowledge it as a powerful force, and while difficult to articulate, it empowers; and once glimpsed, seems impossible to deny. Hard to rationally define, yet like love, impossible to resist. Remarkably, the Mattis decision has had a more profound effect on prisoners and prison life than decades of departmental planning, demanding, insisting, or cajoling; offering strong proof that without hope, rehabilitation will be slow or ineffective. But with hope, everything becomes possible.

— Dirk Greineder (MA)


Something To Say

In college I learned to organize my thoughts. I learned to filter my knowledge, memories, and opinions through a critical lens. Everything in my mind that rallied against my incarceration had use. The education I received from the Emerson Prison Initiative (EPI) helped me to put my thoughts into words. The combination of critical thinking and expository writing helped me to develop my voice. Then, I realized I had something to say. At the end of every semester, EPI students receive crite sheets from our professors. Crite sheets contain our final grades as well as remarks about our performance throughout the semester. As I worked my way toward a bachelor's degree and the crite sheets began to pile up, they painted a new picture of who I was.

On a number of occasions, EPI professors commented that I should be doing Ph.D. level work. It is an immense compliment, but also a reminder. The words should stand out, because what I am doing is a death sentence. I am serving two natural life sentences. I am condemned to die in prison, only the state is not concerned with how that death comes about. The beauty of developing a writing voice is that I can apply it in any way that I can find useful. I can express difficult emotions; I can mark accomplishments; and I can advocate for myself. I can use my pen to open Pandora's Box, letting out all of my troubles instead of holding them in.

It is a form of visibility, a way to force the world to acknowledge life within the wall. James Baldwin once stated, "not everything faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced. " It is a sentiment that captures my reason for working. Controlling my narrative forces me to face the prison within my mind as well as the one that surrounds me. EPI has helped me retire my thoughts and even consider my thought process. Earning a bachelor's degree is a symbol of my capacity to function safely in society, but the actual education that I received helps me navigate the difficult circumstances that I am faced with.

— Alexander Bolling (MA)


Real Talk

Our families didn't sign up for this. Advocacy is an emotionally-draining arena. Our loved ones are already at a disadvantage due to our absence, never mind dealing with the legislature's insensitivities to these challenges. They are only given a week's notice, often less, to get time off of work, procure transportation, and build up the emotional fortitude to attend a hearing at the statehouse. Incarcerated people take for granted all that goes into advocacy work: hostile legislators; unreasonable time parameters; passionate opposition from survivors, victim advocates, and the unforgiving media. Our families are vilified for supporting us — shamed, humiliated, berated, invalidated — and vulgarly reminded of our horrible actions. Some are even asked to testify multiple times in one session, year after year.

A person can only endure so much mistreatment before becoming overwhelmed and altogether avoidant. Who can blame them? They didn't ask for this. We dropped it on them. Hope can be difficult to hold on to. Just when progress seems to be made, something dramatic changes: a new legislative priority; a sponsor gets spooked; a carveout is introduced; a high profile crime happens; you name it! Advocacy can be frustrating, crazymaking, and demoralizing. So, next time you harp on someone to show up, think about what you're asking them to do. Express gratitude for their support. And if they optout, resist chastising them or "guilting" them into action. Instead, explore ways to effectively advocate for yourself


Editor's Take

Many incarcerated people invest considerable energy into their redemption. But those of us serving LWOP are left with no redemption to hope for. Let's break it down: (L)(I)(F)(E). (L) Lifetime is the duration of existence of a living being. (I) Infinity is the unlimited extent of time. (F) Forever is endless. (E) Eon is an indefinitely long period of time. People who have taken life must pay a reasonable price. At face value, “a life for a life” sounds just.

Those of us serving LWOP are left with no redemption to hope for.

But when a 21 year old takes a life and is sentenced to LWOP, that debt can take a full 60-80 years to pay off. Try to imagine what that means. One can change their life, live 50+ years of deep, genuine remorse, with no hope of ever being redeemed: Endless psychological torture. How “just” is that? Our redemption may, in fact, be hopeless; yet, still, we hope.

— Kyle Bryant (MA)


Invest in Your Own Liberation

Ending life without parole (LWOP) and extreme prison sentences in New England is no small task. It requires considerable resources.

At the request of our incarcerated supporters, we now accept small donations from incarcerated individuals.

If you would like to contribute to educational resources that raise awareness about life without parole (LWOP) and extreme sentencing, send an institutional check to:

Drop LWOP New England
P.O. Box 410003 Cambridge, MA 02141

For more information, have your loved ones reach out to: info@droplwopnewengland.org.

Ray of Hope: Odair Fernandes

Odair "Powerful" Fernandes is this issue's Ray Of Hope. Odair was only 11 years old when his family emigrated from Cape Verde. They landed on Hamilton Street in Dorchester: Boston's Cape Verdean stronghold. He found acceptance from a local crew. They navigated streets riddled with drugs, violence, and gangs. They formed the Cape Verdean Outlaws. It started as protection. But after a few violent exchanges, the lines were blurred.

A revenge shooting took two young men's lives. The state never pegged Odair as the shooter. Still, he was sentenced to death (LWOP): Joint Venture. Maintaining his innocence, Odair owns his role in the havoc that devastated his community. He is remorseful. Behind bars, it kept popping. Relentlessly! 12 years and nearly 50 fights later he began to feel the reality of his sentence. Programs like Second Thoughts and Restorative Justice challenged him. He transformed from a street soldier to a peace activist.

As co-founder of the Tudo Djunto' (All Together) movement, his goal is to unify the Cape Verdean community. Odair's fate recently changed when his death sentence was reduced to 15-to-life thanks to the landmark Mattis decision. Today, he is a certified Restorative Justice practitioner (Suffolk University) and sits on an exclusive team dedicated to organizing RJ programs and events. His message: "No matter how far you fall, you always have the potential to get back up and change it all.” Odair truly is a "Powerful" brother and, undeniably, a ray of hope for us all.

— Farooq (RI/MA)

Optional Scroll Text

🕊️

Optional Scroll Text 🕊️

 

Related Content

Previous
Previous

A Matter of Life: The Scope and Impact of Life and Long Term Imprisonment in the United States

Next
Next

The Meaning of Life: The Case for Abolishing Life Sentences