Dear Mr. President,
When I read about a woman dying in a Florida prison, refused release on humanitarian grounds and facing a slow death by starvation, I wanted to navigate away from the page, to forget the story and to write about something else tonight. But I can't. Betsie Gallardo, born HIV+ and impoverished in Haiti, was sentenced in 2008 to 5 years in prison for assaulting an officer with a deadly weapon, a charge based on the fallacious premise that she could spread HIV to a police officer by spitting on him. Gallardo had been repeatedly sexually assaulted by a police officer in Haiti and had an intense, emotional reaction to the arrival of an officer at the scene of a car accident. She had no previous criminal record. She has since been diagnosed with terminal cancer and is no longer able to digest food. The state has refused requests from her family for release on humanitarian grounds and also refused to allow them to be with her when she dies.
Mr. President there are rapists and drug dealers and no shortage of white-collar criminals who serve far less than 5 years in prison for far worse crimes. The outrageous nature of this charge, which was certainly exacerbated by Gallardo's HIV status, is compounded with the truly cruel treatment of a dying woman and her family. How is this justice? How is a system that can look so dispassionately at the suffering of a human being the best that we can do in America? I don't approve of what she did, but this sentence (especially in light of her cancer) is stark evidence of the racism and irrationality that infect our criminal justice system. How am I supposed to feel good about sending the shoplifters I catch to a system so obviously broken? How are we supposed to criticize Iran or China for human rights abuses when we allow things like this?
You might throw up your hands and say it's a state issue, but you probably have a more direct means of reaching Governor Crist than Gallardo's family. Pick up the phone and ask him to pardon her, allow her to die at home with her family and her freedom. No reasonable human being believes she deserved a death sentence, but that is exactly what her punishment has become. The entire system needs reform, and that will take time, but right now one woman deserves a different fate. Please do the right thing.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
If I have readers in Florida, I urge you to contact Governor Crist and the rest of the Executive Clemency Board:
Charlie Crist, Governor of Florida
(850) 488-4441
E-mail: charlie.crist@myflorida.com
http://www.flgov.com/contact_governor
Bill McCollum, Attorney General
(850) 414-3300
Click here to e-mail Mr. McCollum
www.myfloridalegal.com/contact
Charles Bronson, Commissioner Florida Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services
(850) 488-3022
commissioner@doacs.state.fl.us
http://www.doacs.state.fl.us/
Alex Sink, Chief Financial Officer Florida Department of Financial Services
(850) 413-3100
Alex.Sink@myfloridacfo.com
http://www.myfloridacfo.com/
Showing posts with label criminal justice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label criminal justice. Show all posts
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Friday, December 3, 2010
Day 337- A different path
Dear Mr. President,
Today I caught a girl my own age shoplifting. She told us she's been using heroin since the age of 17. She has two children, who she no longer has custody of, and was visibly suffering the effects of her addiction. While I have no regrets about catching her and sending her to jail, I was a little shocked by how much sympathy I felt for her situation. I couldn't help but wonder how easily I might have found myself down a similar path. I can't imagine the life decisions that lead to an existence like hers, but, even after I clocked out for the night, her story lingered in my mind.
It reminds me that criminals, the anonymous numbers filling prisons around the country, are all stories and decisions and pieces of families. That they are not anonymous. When a friend pointed out to me that you finally got around to issuing pardons for non-turkeys, I was hopeful that you'd had a similar reminder, that your compassion for those who have wandered too far down the wrong path was guiding you to act.
Sadly, your 9 pardons all went to offenders who were not currently serving prison time (and a few who never received prison time at all.) Instead of using your Presidential powers to commute sentences and give worthy applicants a second chance at life, you seem to be on track to match Presiden't Bush's abysmally thin pardon record.
Mr. President, you have a difficult job. Getting legislation passed, appointees confirmed, or policies changed requires the cooperation of the near-useless houses of congress. You don't get to wave your hand and change the world, or even the country. But the pardon is one power that is left almost entirely to your own discretion. You could make a difference, change the lives of so many who have been unjustly punished. This is something you don't need the Republicans to agree to, something you don't have to negotiate through endless bureaucratic nonsense. You have the power to look past the numbers and the sentencing minimums and recognize the human stories behind the charges. I was reminded today how random and cruel life can be, how any of us could find ourselves years down the wrong path with no viable way out. If I had your power, I'd want to do whatever I could to help give people a second chance.
I hope that, going forward, you make better use of that power.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Today I caught a girl my own age shoplifting. She told us she's been using heroin since the age of 17. She has two children, who she no longer has custody of, and was visibly suffering the effects of her addiction. While I have no regrets about catching her and sending her to jail, I was a little shocked by how much sympathy I felt for her situation. I couldn't help but wonder how easily I might have found myself down a similar path. I can't imagine the life decisions that lead to an existence like hers, but, even after I clocked out for the night, her story lingered in my mind.
It reminds me that criminals, the anonymous numbers filling prisons around the country, are all stories and decisions and pieces of families. That they are not anonymous. When a friend pointed out to me that you finally got around to issuing pardons for non-turkeys, I was hopeful that you'd had a similar reminder, that your compassion for those who have wandered too far down the wrong path was guiding you to act.
Sadly, your 9 pardons all went to offenders who were not currently serving prison time (and a few who never received prison time at all.) Instead of using your Presidential powers to commute sentences and give worthy applicants a second chance at life, you seem to be on track to match Presiden't Bush's abysmally thin pardon record.
Mr. President, you have a difficult job. Getting legislation passed, appointees confirmed, or policies changed requires the cooperation of the near-useless houses of congress. You don't get to wave your hand and change the world, or even the country. But the pardon is one power that is left almost entirely to your own discretion. You could make a difference, change the lives of so many who have been unjustly punished. This is something you don't need the Republicans to agree to, something you don't have to negotiate through endless bureaucratic nonsense. You have the power to look past the numbers and the sentencing minimums and recognize the human stories behind the charges. I was reminded today how random and cruel life can be, how any of us could find ourselves years down the wrong path with no viable way out. If I had your power, I'd want to do whatever I could to help give people a second chance.
I hope that, going forward, you make better use of that power.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Day 331- A change of heart
Dear Mr. President,
Former Supreme Court Justice John Paul Stevens has changed his views on the constitutionality of the death penalty. Thirty-four years after deciding with the majority to reinstate capital punishment, Stevens has cited judicial activism, rampant systematic racism and the hysteria of those making life or death decisions as evidence that the death penalty, at least in its current form, is not consistent with the constitution. While this change of heart does nothing for the 1,100-some hearts stopped in the interim years, it does demonstrate an admirable commitment to the higher purpose of the law; a commitment unshaken even by the fear of backing down from such a public position on such a difficult issue.
To see a change like this in such a high-profile individual is astounding. How often do we hear politicians or judges admit they were wrong? How often does the synthesis of new information or insight (rather than the cynical hope of political gain) actually change the entrenched views of our leaders? While, as a result of my own ideology, I am certainly more impressed than I would be if Justice Stevens' opinion had changed the other way, I think that the power of this announcement is not in the moral soundness of his judgement but in his willingness to admit that his previous position was wrong.
I hope that you carefully consider the Justice's words on the subject. I, like Justice Stevens, do not believe that capital punishment has a place in our legal system, and I hope that you take this opportunity to question your own position on the issue. Unlike Justice Stevens, whose changing heart cannot hope to change many lives, you are in a position to help those unjustly affected by this policy. Read the Justice's essay, Mr. President, and see if your own heart is not moved to make the same change.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Former Supreme Court Justice John Paul Stevens has changed his views on the constitutionality of the death penalty. Thirty-four years after deciding with the majority to reinstate capital punishment, Stevens has cited judicial activism, rampant systematic racism and the hysteria of those making life or death decisions as evidence that the death penalty, at least in its current form, is not consistent with the constitution. While this change of heart does nothing for the 1,100-some hearts stopped in the interim years, it does demonstrate an admirable commitment to the higher purpose of the law; a commitment unshaken even by the fear of backing down from such a public position on such a difficult issue.
To see a change like this in such a high-profile individual is astounding. How often do we hear politicians or judges admit they were wrong? How often does the synthesis of new information or insight (rather than the cynical hope of political gain) actually change the entrenched views of our leaders? While, as a result of my own ideology, I am certainly more impressed than I would be if Justice Stevens' opinion had changed the other way, I think that the power of this announcement is not in the moral soundness of his judgement but in his willingness to admit that his previous position was wrong.
I hope that you carefully consider the Justice's words on the subject. I, like Justice Stevens, do not believe that capital punishment has a place in our legal system, and I hope that you take this opportunity to question your own position on the issue. Unlike Justice Stevens, whose changing heart cannot hope to change many lives, you are in a position to help those unjustly affected by this policy. Read the Justice's essay, Mr. President, and see if your own heart is not moved to make the same change.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Day 328- On Turkeys
Dear Mr. President,
Today you pardoned Apple and Cider, two turkeys who will be spared the Thanksgiving slaughter. Unlike most of the turkeys Americans will eat on Thanksgiving, these two were raised on a ranch with plenty of space to run around, and they'll spend the rest of their days in a petting zoo. But their less-fortunate, factory farmed, destined for dinner brethren aside, there is another glaring irony here. In your time as President you have pardoned 4 turkeys and exactly 0 humans. My vegetarian sensibilities about the relative value of human and animal life aside, I think this is a pretty embarrassing statistic.
While I appreciate the spirit and the levity of the traditional turkey pardoning, I would hope that, in the other 364 days a year you get to issue pardons, that you consider some of the many, many worthy human candidates. They may not be heading off to dinner, but many languishing behind bars in the American prison system are subject to unfair sentencing minimums, deplorable, dangerous conditions and are prevented from turning their lives around into something positive. I think that today ought to remind you of them.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Friday, November 19, 2010
Day 323- In-flight entertainment, death panels and superheroes
Dear Mr. President,
While listening to my favorite song off of the new Kanye West album on continuous loop, I've been surfing internet news stories to find an appropriate topic for today's letter. While a number of stories caught my attention, nothing about them seemed significant enough to become subjects of a letter to the White House. What do you care about Superheroes patrolling the streets of Seattle? Or a couple getting married in the minutes their flight entered Canadian airspace? Or the way budget cuts in Arizona are resulting in low-income patients getting kicked off of lists for organ donations?
These stories so have something in common, and that, I think, is important to you. Or at least it should be. The theme today is about what happens when Government fails. My city government has failed to keep people safe. It's own budget cuts have prevented the manpower and training necessary for proper law enforcement. And so citizens with military and martial arts backgrounds are donning capes and masks, climbing in their KIA and fighting crime for free.
Your administration has failed the gay men aboard that flight, who cannot have their union legally recognized in their own country. You've failed to make this a front and center civil rights issue, to shame the opponents of same-sex marriage for imposing their hateful system of so-called values on the rest of the country. And so two citizens who want to commit to one another for life took to the skies, entered Canadian airspace, and wed.
And when governments fail, sometimes, as demonstrated by (but by no means confined to) the state of Arizona, citizens have no other option but early death. It is a tragic and unacceptable fact that in this country people die all the time from treatable conditions because they are too poor to afford treatment. It is a failure at all levels of government, and, while I should find solace and inspiration in the stories of those taking (criminal and social) justice into their own hands, I can't help but think about the cities cutting police officers (or unable to hire badly needed new ones) who don't have their own roving band of caped crusaders, or the gay couples who can't fly to a place where their marriage will be recognized. And while poverty will always exist, (and will, unfortunately, carry with it a much shorter life expectancy,) while people will always get sick and many will die when they might have been saved, that the wealth that might offset this disparity is concentrated in the richest 1% of our population is a difficult fact to ignore.
The government, as you are so fond of recalling President Lincoln reminding us, should only do for the people what they can not do better for themselves. I think the government is generally better at law enforcement. I think the government could bestow the basic rights same-sex couples deserve. And I think the government can ease the suffering of the poor and uninsured. But so many of us are still waiting for you to step up and show us how it's done.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
While listening to my favorite song off of the new Kanye West album on continuous loop, I've been surfing internet news stories to find an appropriate topic for today's letter. While a number of stories caught my attention, nothing about them seemed significant enough to become subjects of a letter to the White House. What do you care about Superheroes patrolling the streets of Seattle? Or a couple getting married in the minutes their flight entered Canadian airspace? Or the way budget cuts in Arizona are resulting in low-income patients getting kicked off of lists for organ donations?
These stories so have something in common, and that, I think, is important to you. Or at least it should be. The theme today is about what happens when Government fails. My city government has failed to keep people safe. It's own budget cuts have prevented the manpower and training necessary for proper law enforcement. And so citizens with military and martial arts backgrounds are donning capes and masks, climbing in their KIA and fighting crime for free.
Your administration has failed the gay men aboard that flight, who cannot have their union legally recognized in their own country. You've failed to make this a front and center civil rights issue, to shame the opponents of same-sex marriage for imposing their hateful system of so-called values on the rest of the country. And so two citizens who want to commit to one another for life took to the skies, entered Canadian airspace, and wed.
And when governments fail, sometimes, as demonstrated by (but by no means confined to) the state of Arizona, citizens have no other option but early death. It is a tragic and unacceptable fact that in this country people die all the time from treatable conditions because they are too poor to afford treatment. It is a failure at all levels of government, and, while I should find solace and inspiration in the stories of those taking (criminal and social) justice into their own hands, I can't help but think about the cities cutting police officers (or unable to hire badly needed new ones) who don't have their own roving band of caped crusaders, or the gay couples who can't fly to a place where their marriage will be recognized. And while poverty will always exist, (and will, unfortunately, carry with it a much shorter life expectancy,) while people will always get sick and many will die when they might have been saved, that the wealth that might offset this disparity is concentrated in the richest 1% of our population is a difficult fact to ignore.
The government, as you are so fond of recalling President Lincoln reminding us, should only do for the people what they can not do better for themselves. I think the government is generally better at law enforcement. I think the government could bestow the basic rights same-sex couples deserve. And I think the government can ease the suffering of the poor and uninsured. But so many of us are still waiting for you to step up and show us how it's done.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Day 290- Monsters
Dear Mr. President:
This is Maurice Clemmons:
This is the flukeman monster from the x-files:
This is what any one picking up a copy of the Sunday Seattle Times saw today:
I've written to you about Clemmons before. He committed robbery and assault, raped children and eventually murdered four police officers as they drank coffee. Clemmons is exactly the kind of monster I used to worry about as a small child when my father would get called in the middle of the night to a homicide, or when my mother was out on patrol. He's the kind of man whose madness and brutality and desire to dominate made him violent, erratic and dangerous. But now that I'm grown up and dealing with dangerous people in my own job, I don't believe in monsters. I couldn't grow up in the law enforcement community the way I did and not have an intense, emotional reaction to a cop killer and his disturbing history. But he's no creature, no phantom, he is just a man.
The illustration on the front page of today's Times left me feeling strangely all day. I don't feel sympathy or sadness for Clemmons, I don't want to make excuses for his life or his crimes, I don't want to defend or apologize for him. But I don't like the visual implication that he was sub-human. For one thing, I don't think that the Times would have chosen to illustrate him in such a disturbing way if Clemmons had been white. Mostly, I don't like the editorial decision by the Times to use an illustration rather than his photo. Clemmons wasn't a villain out of a comic book or horror story. He was a man. A terrible, frightening, disturbed man who needs no additional hype to haunt my nightmares. I think the media's inclination toward sensationalism creates the false sense that these dangerous people can be identified on sight. That we will know monsters by their look, or that that they cannot walk among us unnoticed.
This is not, of course, limited to the Seattle Times or to Maurice Clemmons. We make monsters out of our enemies every day, and we've done it throughout history. We comfort ourselves with the idea that you can't understand why some one would become a suicide bomber, that terrorists and killers are just mindless monsters. Maybe this helps some people distance themselves from the terrifying truth that each of us has something in common with those people that we fear. Helps people believe that good people look one way and bad people look another. I don't think that this is a useful lie to tell ourselves. I don't believe that we are safer this way.
Maurice Clemmons is dead. He met his end trying to kill another police officer, and I am not sorry for it. And the Times may well sell more papers (and, apparently, books) attempting to frighten people with this image of Clemmons as a monster, but I will not buy in to the notion that he or any killer is somehow a different creature than me, or than any one of us. The truth is, humans are far more frightening than any monster we can imagine and we will never be able to keep ourselves completely safe from the darkness that lurks where we can never see it coming.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
This is Maurice Clemmons:
This is the flukeman monster from the x-files:
This is what any one picking up a copy of the Sunday Seattle Times saw today:
I've written to you about Clemmons before. He committed robbery and assault, raped children and eventually murdered four police officers as they drank coffee. Clemmons is exactly the kind of monster I used to worry about as a small child when my father would get called in the middle of the night to a homicide, or when my mother was out on patrol. He's the kind of man whose madness and brutality and desire to dominate made him violent, erratic and dangerous. But now that I'm grown up and dealing with dangerous people in my own job, I don't believe in monsters. I couldn't grow up in the law enforcement community the way I did and not have an intense, emotional reaction to a cop killer and his disturbing history. But he's no creature, no phantom, he is just a man.
The illustration on the front page of today's Times left me feeling strangely all day. I don't feel sympathy or sadness for Clemmons, I don't want to make excuses for his life or his crimes, I don't want to defend or apologize for him. But I don't like the visual implication that he was sub-human. For one thing, I don't think that the Times would have chosen to illustrate him in such a disturbing way if Clemmons had been white. Mostly, I don't like the editorial decision by the Times to use an illustration rather than his photo. Clemmons wasn't a villain out of a comic book or horror story. He was a man. A terrible, frightening, disturbed man who needs no additional hype to haunt my nightmares. I think the media's inclination toward sensationalism creates the false sense that these dangerous people can be identified on sight. That we will know monsters by their look, or that that they cannot walk among us unnoticed.
This is not, of course, limited to the Seattle Times or to Maurice Clemmons. We make monsters out of our enemies every day, and we've done it throughout history. We comfort ourselves with the idea that you can't understand why some one would become a suicide bomber, that terrorists and killers are just mindless monsters. Maybe this helps some people distance themselves from the terrifying truth that each of us has something in common with those people that we fear. Helps people believe that good people look one way and bad people look another. I don't think that this is a useful lie to tell ourselves. I don't believe that we are safer this way.
Maurice Clemmons is dead. He met his end trying to kill another police officer, and I am not sorry for it. And the Times may well sell more papers (and, apparently, books) attempting to frighten people with this image of Clemmons as a monster, but I will not buy in to the notion that he or any killer is somehow a different creature than me, or than any one of us. The truth is, humans are far more frightening than any monster we can imagine and we will never be able to keep ourselves completely safe from the darkness that lurks where we can never see it coming.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Day 259-Good and Evil
Dear Mr. President,
I have a constant struggle between the parts of me that believe people are basically good and the part that believes people are selfish and amoral. I want the believe the best of people, in general. But my parents were cops, and the people they dealt with daily were murders, rapists and child molesters. People who are difficult, if not impossible, to forgive or to find redemptive goodness in. At work it is my job to catch shoplifters. This is a much smaller scale of badness than what my parents dealt with, but I often encounter individuals who challenge my belief in man's fundamental goodness. Today was one of those days. While it was ultimately a positive outcome, the incident has definitely made me reflect on what I believe.
The process of enforcing the law, on whatever scale it has to be done, requires a sort of reactionary mentality that isn't generally how I see myself. When I'm catching a criminal, I don't have time to think about the circumstances in a person's life that led to their crime. I don't have time to consider the societal problems that have forced them into the situation, or a long-term strategy for their rehabilitation. I have to react to what they do a the time they do it in whatever way I can best minimize the damage. I try to be respectful and always consider the humanity of the people I deal with. A person's humanity does not, of course, exempt them from mankind's more instinctive and animal-like impulses- fight or flight- and anticipating this while respecting the individual's humanity is one of the more challenging aspects of my job. I consider a number of circumstantial factors that combine to make a person desperate, and I don't think I have encountered any one I would actually call evil. Even when choosing fight over flight, I don't believe that a person can be judged by their worst and most desperate behavior. But this does not exempt them from responsibility for their choices, and that is why I have to react to the situation and not to the big picture.
You don't have that luxury, unfortunately. You were, after all, the one who ran for President. You knew what you were getting into when you applied for the job. So while I do the best I can to deal with the situation at hand, to stop criminals without losing my compassion for them, you've got to think about the greater problem. I deal with crimes. You worry about Crime, an abstract, complex concept that affects and is affected by everything from economics to education to social values. I'd be incredibly happy to be put out of a job, to have all crime stopped by some massive national policy that magically makes us a peaceful, crime-free society. Living, as I unfortunately must, in the real world, I'm not too worried about my job security. That being said, budget shortfalls in my state are leading to fewer police officers and certainly also to an increase in crime rates. Today I chased down a shoplifter and was assaulted in the process. That's part of my job. Today the federal government spent more than $410 million on our wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. In the year 2011, Seattle taxpayers alone will contribute $36.9 million to these two wars- enough to pay for more than 4,000 police officers, or 48,000 university scholarships. These wars were started- and continue to be waged- under the pretext of fighting "evil". I may not believe in evil the same way that many people seem to, but I think much more good might be done with that money, in my city, in Iraq or in Afghanistan. Making the tough decisions about how this money is spent is your job, Mr. President, and I think it is one area with plenty of room for improvement. You can't make people good, or even ensure that they always make good choices. Mistakes and bad judgement and selfishness are unfortunate realities that no government can solve. However, there is a lot more we could do to make our society healthier and safer, and these wars don't seem to be doing much of either.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
I have a constant struggle between the parts of me that believe people are basically good and the part that believes people are selfish and amoral. I want the believe the best of people, in general. But my parents were cops, and the people they dealt with daily were murders, rapists and child molesters. People who are difficult, if not impossible, to forgive or to find redemptive goodness in. At work it is my job to catch shoplifters. This is a much smaller scale of badness than what my parents dealt with, but I often encounter individuals who challenge my belief in man's fundamental goodness. Today was one of those days. While it was ultimately a positive outcome, the incident has definitely made me reflect on what I believe.
The process of enforcing the law, on whatever scale it has to be done, requires a sort of reactionary mentality that isn't generally how I see myself. When I'm catching a criminal, I don't have time to think about the circumstances in a person's life that led to their crime. I don't have time to consider the societal problems that have forced them into the situation, or a long-term strategy for their rehabilitation. I have to react to what they do a the time they do it in whatever way I can best minimize the damage. I try to be respectful and always consider the humanity of the people I deal with. A person's humanity does not, of course, exempt them from mankind's more instinctive and animal-like impulses- fight or flight- and anticipating this while respecting the individual's humanity is one of the more challenging aspects of my job. I consider a number of circumstantial factors that combine to make a person desperate, and I don't think I have encountered any one I would actually call evil. Even when choosing fight over flight, I don't believe that a person can be judged by their worst and most desperate behavior. But this does not exempt them from responsibility for their choices, and that is why I have to react to the situation and not to the big picture.
You don't have that luxury, unfortunately. You were, after all, the one who ran for President. You knew what you were getting into when you applied for the job. So while I do the best I can to deal with the situation at hand, to stop criminals without losing my compassion for them, you've got to think about the greater problem. I deal with crimes. You worry about Crime, an abstract, complex concept that affects and is affected by everything from economics to education to social values. I'd be incredibly happy to be put out of a job, to have all crime stopped by some massive national policy that magically makes us a peaceful, crime-free society. Living, as I unfortunately must, in the real world, I'm not too worried about my job security. That being said, budget shortfalls in my state are leading to fewer police officers and certainly also to an increase in crime rates. Today I chased down a shoplifter and was assaulted in the process. That's part of my job. Today the federal government spent more than $410 million on our wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. In the year 2011, Seattle taxpayers alone will contribute $36.9 million to these two wars- enough to pay for more than 4,000 police officers, or 48,000 university scholarships. These wars were started- and continue to be waged- under the pretext of fighting "evil". I may not believe in evil the same way that many people seem to, but I think much more good might be done with that money, in my city, in Iraq or in Afghanistan. Making the tough decisions about how this money is spent is your job, Mr. President, and I think it is one area with plenty of room for improvement. You can't make people good, or even ensure that they always make good choices. Mistakes and bad judgement and selfishness are unfortunate realities that no government can solve. However, there is a lot more we could do to make our society healthier and safer, and these wars don't seem to be doing much of either.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Day 203- When "yes" means "assuming you're not Arab, of course"
If any one out there reading this is wondering why I am not commenting on the Shirley Sherrod story, it isn't because I'm such a loyal Hope Koolaid drinker. I have three reasons:
1. I have nothing to add that every other blogger and their mother haven't already said
2. I do think the administration screwed up, I don't think there's anything they can do but apologize and try to reinstate her, and they have done that already.
3. I'm so sick of reading transcripts of press conferences full of Sherrod questions and NOTHING else. I'm sorry she was unfairly fired, but SERIOUSLY guys, people go through a lot worse without getting a single member of the press corps to ask Robert Gibbs about it.
Dear Mr. President,
One in six American women will be the victim of rape in her lifetime. With that kind of statistical frequency, it is a safe bet that we all have women in our lives affected by this. I certainly do, and I say this only to emphasize that I do not take the issue lightly, nor to I mean to belittle or minimize the damaging affects of this crime. I don't know that there are statistics available for the number of people, male or female, who are lied to for sex, but I'm guessing, based on personal experience, that it's much, much higher. People lie. People lie all the time, about important things and stupid things, and people lie even more when they think they can get what they want. I don't think that lying to some one in order to have sex with them, in general, is a criminal act. Israeli courts, who have convicted an Arab man of rape for allegedly claiming to be Jewish, disagree.
The idea that consent can be contingent on a partner's racial identity or religion is absurd. While withholding or misleading a partner about some information, such as knowledge of HIV or other infection, can and should be grounds for criminal complaint, there are obvious differences between the harm done by a person's religion and their HIV status. This verdict is based primarily upon an accepted racism, an antipathy that is now given the force of legal precedent. Absent any hard evidence to substantiate the woman's claim that he lied about his identity, the most damning evidence this man could have faced is the inescapable reality of his own race and the judge's belief that a jewish woman would need to be deceived in order to consent. This kind of institutionalized racism ought to be condemned by Israel's allies.
Beyond the racist implications of this decision, the language of the decision declares the court responsible for the protection of women from "smooth-tongued criminals," surprisingly paternalistic language from a female judge. I wonder, had this been the case of a Jewish man being deceived by an Arab woman, would she have been charged with rape, as well? As a woman, I find this idea that women lack the judgement to protect themselves from men who lie insulting.
We all have to take responsibility for the way we treat one another and for the decisions we make. Deception in pursuit of casual sex, while morally questionable, is hardly on par with the trauma of actual rape, and this disturbing decision should not pass without the strong condemnation of all who would see racism and sexism divided from the laws of any nation.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
1. I have nothing to add that every other blogger and their mother haven't already said
2. I do think the administration screwed up, I don't think there's anything they can do but apologize and try to reinstate her, and they have done that already.
3. I'm so sick of reading transcripts of press conferences full of Sherrod questions and NOTHING else. I'm sorry she was unfairly fired, but SERIOUSLY guys, people go through a lot worse without getting a single member of the press corps to ask Robert Gibbs about it.
Dear Mr. President,
One in six American women will be the victim of rape in her lifetime. With that kind of statistical frequency, it is a safe bet that we all have women in our lives affected by this. I certainly do, and I say this only to emphasize that I do not take the issue lightly, nor to I mean to belittle or minimize the damaging affects of this crime. I don't know that there are statistics available for the number of people, male or female, who are lied to for sex, but I'm guessing, based on personal experience, that it's much, much higher. People lie. People lie all the time, about important things and stupid things, and people lie even more when they think they can get what they want. I don't think that lying to some one in order to have sex with them, in general, is a criminal act. Israeli courts, who have convicted an Arab man of rape for allegedly claiming to be Jewish, disagree.
The idea that consent can be contingent on a partner's racial identity or religion is absurd. While withholding or misleading a partner about some information, such as knowledge of HIV or other infection, can and should be grounds for criminal complaint, there are obvious differences between the harm done by a person's religion and their HIV status. This verdict is based primarily upon an accepted racism, an antipathy that is now given the force of legal precedent. Absent any hard evidence to substantiate the woman's claim that he lied about his identity, the most damning evidence this man could have faced is the inescapable reality of his own race and the judge's belief that a jewish woman would need to be deceived in order to consent. This kind of institutionalized racism ought to be condemned by Israel's allies.
Beyond the racist implications of this decision, the language of the decision declares the court responsible for the protection of women from "smooth-tongued criminals," surprisingly paternalistic language from a female judge. I wonder, had this been the case of a Jewish man being deceived by an Arab woman, would she have been charged with rape, as well? As a woman, I find this idea that women lack the judgement to protect themselves from men who lie insulting.
We all have to take responsibility for the way we treat one another and for the decisions we make. Deception in pursuit of casual sex, while morally questionable, is hardly on par with the trauma of actual rape, and this disturbing decision should not pass without the strong condemnation of all who would see racism and sexism divided from the laws of any nation.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Monday, May 17, 2010
Day 137- Graham v. Florida
Dear Mr. President,
In an earlier letter, I spoke about the immorality of continuing to keep Omar Khadr in Guantanamo Bay for a crime he allegedly committed as a 15-year old boy. Today's Supreme Court decision, which rightly identifies the sentencing of minors to life without parole for crimes other than murder, again brought this case to my mind. But it also recalled another case, one which this week is fresh in my mind since you spoke at the memorial for fallen police officers. Maurice Clemmons, who murdered 4 police officers in Washington state, committed his first crime at 16. When governor Huckabee commuted his 108-year sentence to make him eligible for parole in 1999 (instead of 2015) he did so largely because of Clemmons's age at the time of his crimes. This case is a test of my convictions about juvenile sentencing. The visceral, personal, emotional reaction I have to the murder of police officers does not change the fact that, had I been Governor Huckabee, I would likely have made the same decision. I, too, would want to believe that the man had changed and grown and come to see the error of his ways. I, too, would have wanted to show mercy for mistakes made as a child.
What makes this case so frustrating is that, of course, Maurice Clemmons did not walk out of jail in 1999 and then live as an upstanding member of society until 2009; before murdering 4 officers he raped two children, assaulted two other officers, committed robbery, and was assessed by medical professionals to be highly dangerous and likely to re-offend. There were many points between the Governor commuting the sentence and the day those officers died when the system should have intervened to stop this terrible man. I do not think that giving him a second chance was a mistake, even if the series of additional chances following may have been. Can any one even say for certain that, at 16, Maurice Clemmons was already destined for this? I don't believe we can.
Still, his original sentences would have left him in an Arkansas prison until 2015; parole was not out of the question, even after a series of criminal acts. Those prisoners put away for life without parole who may eventually be released because of today's Supreme Court decision may have another Maurice Clemmons among them. We cannot pretend to know for certain what a person's future actions will be, but I think it is better to give a person a chance to change, so long as the safeguards built in to the system are implemented correctly.
The Supreme court acted in accordance with the spirit of the law, and the conscience of our country. I only hope that the wisdom behind their decision can be extrapolated to apply to Omar Khadr during his trial. I don't know if he will leave Guantanamo hating America even more, ready to return to the fight or to kill innocents. I don't know any of this, and neither do you and neither does any military tribunal. It is the fear we have to live with, if we are to adhere to our nation's moral code, to uphold the values of justice and fairness that we stand for. There is simply no number of prison cells that will ever make us safe.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
In an earlier letter, I spoke about the immorality of continuing to keep Omar Khadr in Guantanamo Bay for a crime he allegedly committed as a 15-year old boy. Today's Supreme Court decision, which rightly identifies the sentencing of minors to life without parole for crimes other than murder, again brought this case to my mind. But it also recalled another case, one which this week is fresh in my mind since you spoke at the memorial for fallen police officers. Maurice Clemmons, who murdered 4 police officers in Washington state, committed his first crime at 16. When governor Huckabee commuted his 108-year sentence to make him eligible for parole in 1999 (instead of 2015) he did so largely because of Clemmons's age at the time of his crimes. This case is a test of my convictions about juvenile sentencing. The visceral, personal, emotional reaction I have to the murder of police officers does not change the fact that, had I been Governor Huckabee, I would likely have made the same decision. I, too, would want to believe that the man had changed and grown and come to see the error of his ways. I, too, would have wanted to show mercy for mistakes made as a child.
What makes this case so frustrating is that, of course, Maurice Clemmons did not walk out of jail in 1999 and then live as an upstanding member of society until 2009; before murdering 4 officers he raped two children, assaulted two other officers, committed robbery, and was assessed by medical professionals to be highly dangerous and likely to re-offend. There were many points between the Governor commuting the sentence and the day those officers died when the system should have intervened to stop this terrible man. I do not think that giving him a second chance was a mistake, even if the series of additional chances following may have been. Can any one even say for certain that, at 16, Maurice Clemmons was already destined for this? I don't believe we can.
Still, his original sentences would have left him in an Arkansas prison until 2015; parole was not out of the question, even after a series of criminal acts. Those prisoners put away for life without parole who may eventually be released because of today's Supreme Court decision may have another Maurice Clemmons among them. We cannot pretend to know for certain what a person's future actions will be, but I think it is better to give a person a chance to change, so long as the safeguards built in to the system are implemented correctly.
The Supreme court acted in accordance with the spirit of the law, and the conscience of our country. I only hope that the wisdom behind their decision can be extrapolated to apply to Omar Khadr during his trial. I don't know if he will leave Guantanamo hating America even more, ready to return to the fight or to kill innocents. I don't know any of this, and neither do you and neither does any military tribunal. It is the fear we have to live with, if we are to adhere to our nation's moral code, to uphold the values of justice and fairness that we stand for. There is simply no number of prison cells that will ever make us safe.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Day 114- Vacations, mercy, and death
Dear Mr. President,
I'm seriously considering proposing a state initiative to compel police officers to check immigration paperwork on any one who appears Canadian, (we're a border state, too, you know,) and I'd like to send Senator Lindsay Graham a patronizing book on the exciting journey of puberty, should he ever decide to grow up. You're on vacation this weekend, or, sort of a vacation, anyway. I'm on vacation myself this weekend, with three days off and plans to go climb a mountain tomorrow. You deserve a break, sir, even if the responsibilities of your office don't make anything like real relaxation possible.
A quiet story out of Utah caught my attention tonight. A man facing the death penalty has elected to do so by firing squad. A few experts have weighed in, indicating the possibility that such a death is actually more humane than lethal injection. This was interesting to me, first of all because I realized we still use firing squads in this country, and second because I'd just had a conversation with friends about how we'd like to die, if we had the choice. (I chose drowning. I like the ocean.) While I find being shot no worse and no more upsetting than lethal injection or hanging, I realize that most people have a visceral reaction to the barbarity of men lined up to gun down an unarmed man, while lethal injection is often tucked away in our minds as similar to drifting off to sleep; painless, bloodless, and clean.
I've long opposed the death penalty. I don't think that vengeance and justice go hand in hand, and I believe that any time men with guns or needles or a noose kill an unarmed, restrained prisoner (no matter how heinous the crimes committed) it is an unconscionable abuse of power. The abuse of power over another individual, especially those between a prisoner and the individuals and institutions that contain them, strikes me as truly horrifying. That this dynamic is laid bare when it is played out with a firing squad only serves to underscore how contrary the death penalty is to our values and sensibilities; if one cannot stomach the idea of a firing squad, a needle loaded with drugs ought not to be any different. Of course, this reasoning comes from the same place as my belief that any one OK with eating cows and chickens should be fine eating kittens, as well. It may make sense to me, but that doesn't mean I'm going to convince a majority of my fellow citizens.
You have a solemn duty to perform tomorrow, one which I do not envy you. When you approach this task, which, necessarily, requires you to consider, as Graham Greene called it, "the appalling strangeness of the mercy of God," I hope that you find a moment to appreciate how brief our lives are, the tragedy and catastrophe that lurks behind every moment, waiting to strike when we least expect it. Suffering and death will find all of us, in our own time, and I think the government should be out of the business of speeding that processes along, be it by war, execution or exploitation. There is enough in this life to try our ability to overcome the horrors of being alive; we need not, even in the name of justice, add any more.
I don't believe in God's mercy, Mr. President, but I do believe in yours.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
I'm seriously considering proposing a state initiative to compel police officers to check immigration paperwork on any one who appears Canadian, (we're a border state, too, you know,) and I'd like to send Senator Lindsay Graham a patronizing book on the exciting journey of puberty, should he ever decide to grow up. You're on vacation this weekend, or, sort of a vacation, anyway. I'm on vacation myself this weekend, with three days off and plans to go climb a mountain tomorrow. You deserve a break, sir, even if the responsibilities of your office don't make anything like real relaxation possible.
A quiet story out of Utah caught my attention tonight. A man facing the death penalty has elected to do so by firing squad. A few experts have weighed in, indicating the possibility that such a death is actually more humane than lethal injection. This was interesting to me, first of all because I realized we still use firing squads in this country, and second because I'd just had a conversation with friends about how we'd like to die, if we had the choice. (I chose drowning. I like the ocean.) While I find being shot no worse and no more upsetting than lethal injection or hanging, I realize that most people have a visceral reaction to the barbarity of men lined up to gun down an unarmed man, while lethal injection is often tucked away in our minds as similar to drifting off to sleep; painless, bloodless, and clean.
I've long opposed the death penalty. I don't think that vengeance and justice go hand in hand, and I believe that any time men with guns or needles or a noose kill an unarmed, restrained prisoner (no matter how heinous the crimes committed) it is an unconscionable abuse of power. The abuse of power over another individual, especially those between a prisoner and the individuals and institutions that contain them, strikes me as truly horrifying. That this dynamic is laid bare when it is played out with a firing squad only serves to underscore how contrary the death penalty is to our values and sensibilities; if one cannot stomach the idea of a firing squad, a needle loaded with drugs ought not to be any different. Of course, this reasoning comes from the same place as my belief that any one OK with eating cows and chickens should be fine eating kittens, as well. It may make sense to me, but that doesn't mean I'm going to convince a majority of my fellow citizens.
You have a solemn duty to perform tomorrow, one which I do not envy you. When you approach this task, which, necessarily, requires you to consider, as Graham Greene called it, "the appalling strangeness of the mercy of God," I hope that you find a moment to appreciate how brief our lives are, the tragedy and catastrophe that lurks behind every moment, waiting to strike when we least expect it. Suffering and death will find all of us, in our own time, and I think the government should be out of the business of speeding that processes along, be it by war, execution or exploitation. There is enough in this life to try our ability to overcome the horrors of being alive; we need not, even in the name of justice, add any more.
I don't believe in God's mercy, Mr. President, but I do believe in yours.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
