From the desk of Mary Ellen Johnson

The views expressed by Mary Ellen Johnson do not necessarily reflect the beliefs or views of The Pendulum Foundation. Secondary administrators and guests are at liberty to post anytime on this blog and do. Please keep in mind that postings by Mary Ellen Johnson will be signed by her.
  • About Mary Ellen
  • The Murder of Jacob (introduction)
    • Chapter 01
  • Guest Blogs
    • Guest Bloggers – “Regrets”
    • Preparations
    • FreeJonny – This is my story…of injustice, prison life and the road home

Lost for Life

by administrator on June 13th, 2013
Posted In: Mary Ellen's Blog
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When Joshua Rofe first called me and asked if I’d be willing to be interviewed for his documentary film about juveniles serving life in prison I agreed without hesitation. I also suggested other advocates, victims and prisoners, as well as people who might oppose us. We were warned not to cooperate with Josh, that he might not be “for us,” but I’ve always believed that if we are afraid to show all sides of a very painful issue, then we don’t have a very strong case. And I believe we do.

Josh met with many people across the United States and interviewed several of Colorado’s young lifers. I am not surprised that Josh developed a special affinity for my friend, Jacob Ind, who has served 20 years of a life sentence for killing his abusive parents. But I do know that, even with Jacob, he expected thoughtful answers to tough questions. Maybe that’s why Josh was impressed with Jacob—because Jacob can be brutally honest about himself. No talking points; no clichés. As a seeker of truth,  which may present itself in some troubling guises or permutations, Josh has no patience with simplistic answers. That’s why I was so excited to see the question posed on LOST FOR LIFE’S poster: Could you forgive?

That’s at the heart of this, isn’t it? Can we forgive these kids, some of whom have committed horrible acts, and say, “Yes, they are worthy of a second chance?” Can we forgive them, truly forgive them – not some knee jerk pseudo-Christian lip service  – and still believe they should die in prison? Are there a certain number of years behind bars that can equate to the value of a human life?  If a mother who lost her beloved three-year-old child can forgive, are the rest of us required to follow in her footsteps?

These are questions I suspect Josh struggles with in LOST FOR LIFE.

I do not know all of the Colorado people I will see on the screen when I attend the premiere on Saturday,  June 22, in Washington D.C.(AFI DOCS)  http://afi.com/afidocs/films/lostforlife.aspx#.UajcdWS9Kc3 (ticket link if you can join us.)  I expect to reunite with many friends: Sharletta Evans, who WILL answer, “Could you forgive?” Sean Taylor, whose sentence was “forgiven” by Governor Bill Ritter, and family members like Amber Ivy whose brother Josiah, serving life, will speak publicly for the first time.  And of course, Jacob.

Can you forgive Jacob? Can you forgive the rest of those who will be presented in LOST FOR LIFE?

I do not know. But I do thank Joshua Rofe and LOST FOR LIFE for asking?

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Catch 22 at the Colorado Parole Board

by administrator on June 11th, 2013
Posted In: Mary Ellen's Blog
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5/31/2013
By Miller Hudson
The Colorado Statesman

In 1981 the police drama Hill Street Blues began its award winning seven season run on NBC. Throughout the series Daniel J. Travanti and Veronica Hamel, a police captain and public defender, were romantically involved and many episodes ended with them talking in bed after long days at the office comparing notes on their respective challenges. I distinctly recall an episode where Hamel complained to Travanti about how one of her clients was being mistreated by the police. Travanti (Captain Frank Furillo) responded by saying, “Joyce, don’t you understand, we’re both working for different divisions of the same waste removal outfit?” That observation has stuck with me for nearly three decades each time I contemplate the American system of justice.

On Tuesday, May 28, the Colorado Parole Board, yet another criminal trash management agency, scheduled a hearing for Homaidan al-Turki, the Saudi national serving time at the Limon Correctional Facility for unlawful sexual contact and assorted other crimes against an Indonesian nanny virtually enslaved by his family for nearly five years. If you were to see al-Turki’s photo in your local post office, you would immediately assume he was a terrorist suspect. He sports a well trimmed but expansive beard that nearly reaches his waist. Dressed in dark green prison garb, he surprises with a well-modulated and articulate command of English. In fact, he works in the pre-release program at Limon assisting other prisoners in navigating the paperwork required before those who are completing their sentences can return to civilian life.

Those eligible for parole do not appear before the entire parole board. Instead one or two members interview each eligible prisoner and then forward a recommendation to the full board, which is nearly always endorsed. Confusion reigned on Tuesday morning. Homaidan al-Turki would appear, by video circuit, from the prison in Limon, while Dr. Anthony Young, parole board chairman, was located at offices in Denver and the wretches from the press were confined to a room at the Corrections facility on Smith Road in Denver. Nearly twenty minutes was comprised of attempting to make the technology work. “I can see you, but I can’t hear you. Now I can hear you, but we’ve lost the picture.” Someone added the acerbic comment, “Since you aren’t going to give us a raise, can you get us some new equipment?” With the embarrassment of Evan Ebel’s early release, one attorney had predicted to me that it might be a year or more before anyone received another parole in Colorado.

Hal Haddon, one of al-Turki’s attorneys, and a representative from the Saudi Embassy in Washington appeared at the parole offices in Denver, but were told they should have traveled to Limon and were peremptorily ordered to leave the hearing. As things developed, it seems unlikely they would have been permitted to speak even if they had made the trip. Apparently victims can register “off the record” comments with the parole officer. Part of the delay in getting started was attributed to such a statement being offered, although it actually wasn’t clear whether this was true. The victim now resides in Jakarta, and Ann Tomsic, one of the original prosecuting attorneys, spoke first on her behalf. Needless to say, she has an axe to grind, protesting press reports that al-Turki has been a model prisoner when he has repeatedly refused to enroll in “sex offender treatment” and “…acknowledge what he did.”

Tomsic then advised Young that he could delay al-Turki’s return for another parole hearing for two or three years, or until he consents to participate in the state’s sex offender program. “Mr. al-Turki holds the keys to his own release,” she stated. Next to speak was his case manager, who emphasized that al-Turki has in fact been a compliant prisoner and excellent in his role as a para-professional clerk in the Limon pre-release program. When asked if there had been any unusual behavior displayed by al-Turki, he replied, “Other than what has happened the past few months — no, nothing.” In light of the rumors leaked to the press regarding his possible involvement in the assassination of Corrections Chief Tom Clements and his subsequent transfer to solitary confinement, this seemed comparable to the old line, “Other than that Mrs. Lincoln, how did you enjoy the play?” Nonetheless, the issue was never mentioned again.

Then attention was turned to al-Turki, himself. Dr. Young, the Board chairman, was aggressive and adversarial right out of the box. “I know your case in detail,” he asserted. He made it abundantly clear that participation in the sex offender program was an expectation for al-Turki’s parole consideration. “You are the only person I will allow to speak today on your behalf,” he declared. This ruling silenced his attorney and several character witnesses who had made the trip to Limon. Homaidan al-Turki handled this onslaught with some aplomb stating that the Colorado sex offender program would require him to implicate himself for crimes that remained in dispute in other legal proceedings. He expressed an opinion that he would be required to participate in exercises that violated his religious beliefs. But, his most repeated response was that on the advice of his attorneys he should not discuss details of the charges against him pending legal appeals. This frustrated Dr. Young.

When al-Turki attempted to explain that the Saudi government was willing to transfer him to a jail in his own country, where he could undertake their more culturally sensitive treatment program, Young exploded. “What would you get out of treatment in Saudi Arabia that you won’t get here?” he demanded. “I need you to answer my question!” When al-Turki reverted to his standard assertion regarding advice from his attorneys, Young said, “I can see you are in a bind, but I expect you to take responsibility for your crimes. Our expectations are very clear.” Al-Turki’s concession that the crimes he had been charged with were inconsistent with the tenets of Islam came too late to sway Young’s decision. He inquired whether al-Turki could enter the Colorado sex offender program in a timely way, and was assured the Department of Corrections could find a seat for him. Young then said he would make a decision that day. Five minutes later he announced that al-Turki’s next parole hearing would be delayed for two years (well after next fall’s election).

Since no one else was allowed to speak, the question of what sex offender treatment in Colorado would achieve for this inmate, who is scheduled to be deported immediately upon his release, was never raised. The alleged purpose of the treatment regimen is to safeguard the Colorado citizenry against the threat of repeat offenders. That will become a Saudi problem. The Corrections Department’s mission statement displayed on the wall in our viewing room declares, “Building a safer Colorado for today and tomorrow.” It’s hard to figure how the vanity of a bull-headed prisoner and the arrogance of a bull-headed bureaucracy will make any of us safer. The only good news may be that the pre-release paperwork for inmates at Limon will continue to be handled expeditiously.

— mnhwriter@msn.com

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COULD YOU FORGIVE?

by administrator on May 26th, 2013
Posted In: Mary Ellen's Blog
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Posted on May 23, 2013

Over 2500 Americans are in prison, serving life sentences for crimes they committed when they were under 18 years old. Last year, a young man named Josh Rofe told me about a documentary he had been working on for four years, in which he talked to the imprisoned, their families, and the families of victims of murders committed by juveniles.  I thought that my film “Nanking“ would be the most intense film I would ever be involved in … but “Lost for Life“ may have exceeded that standard. Josh tells incredibly compelling stories about crimes that are shocking in their brutality and seemingly disconnected from the kids who committed them, who often seem like they could be your children’s classmates.  I agreed to produce the film, Josh continued on this passion project, and we ultimately brought in the multiple Oscar-winning director Mark Harris to help Josh shape the film “Lost for Life”.

Yesterday, the AFI Docs Film Festival announced that “Lost for Life” was accepted to that prestigious documentary festival; it will premiere at the Smithsonian Portrait Gallery across the street from Verizon Center at 5:30 PM on June 22, and then play at the AFI Theater in Silver Spring the next day.  On June 30, the film will screen at the Nantucket Film Festival.

I am proud of Josh’s work.  It is incredibly timely – last Fall, the Supreme Court ruled that life sentences for juveniles can not be mandatory.  Individual facts and circumstances must be considered, the Court ruled, particularly because science has proven that the juvenile brain is not fully developed, including in areas that govern the ability to analyze the results of actions.  A number of Governors promptly announced that they would impose 65 or 70 year sentences rather than “life”, so the issue will now be resolved state by state, through the judicial and political process. And ultimately, it will be up to us as citizens to decide difficult but fundamental questions about our views on “justice”: about the balance between punishment and rehabilitation; about whether we believe in redemption; and about whether we can forgive the most horrible of acts.

We hope that this film will catalyze audiences to reflect on these topics, to debate them with friends, family and neighbors, and to help us all determine how our society will be defined. 

LOST FOR LIFE


Is it right for juvenile offenders to receive lifetime prison sentences without parole? This thought-provoking film explores the complex issue with input from both the perpetrators – all charged with first degree murder – and the victims’ families. As they revisit the often shocking details of their brutal crimes, it is easy to dismiss the killers as hopeless. Is it possible, however, for some of them to truly change and make a meaningful contribution to society as free men? – AP

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Emotional knee jerks

by administrator on May 23rd, 2013
Posted In: Guest Bloggers
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By Lone Heron

It’s been a while since I have written about parricide.

It is a battle. I want to help. I want to change things. I want things to be better for those who come behind me. But, I realize I cannot move forward if I continually return to the past.
I remind myself, my focus is fertilizer and what ever I engage with and focus on will grow. I must place my focus carefully, then, I think.

When we focus on the problem and not the solution the problem continues… And then I look at a bigger idea and think maybe the problem will always be there because it’s supposed to be.
Through horribly contrasting situations such as parricide it really can show many of our citizens just how lucky they are. Is not appreciation the root of everything good?

How nice is it to go home to be with your pleasant loving families for the holidays? How nice is it to have people remember and show up with good wishes, warm hugs, love, and acceptance.
Similar traits are strangely missing in parricide families. Even if they were present, how can a parricide kid believe if the other messages tell them they are useless? Contrast – where would we be without it?

The Buddhists say acceptance of all is key if one wants to attain peace and joy. But how can the process of creation that grows and ends in violence ever be acceptable when you are in the midst of it? Yet how can it be anything but acceptable? It is, after all, just a process. Detaching from an agenda or outcome helps it all to be strangely acceptable. Surrendering to the idea that all is exactly as it should be–including my childhood, as unpleasant as it was – it was a great teacher.

I opened a fortune cookie once that read: “The criminal only commits the crime–the society prepares it.” – Chinese proverb.

When society blames the “criminal” for the crime fed by society instead of sharing the responsibility with all those who played a part, how can it ever stop?

This is the year hopefully our citizens will start standing up, and speaking out, demanding change within themselves and those around them in neighborhoods where these atrocities occur.

Parricide has been occurring since the beginning of time. I believe this is some lesson for the soul and through the process if we apply ourselves we can grow, We can become more than we ever could have been without the experience but it is always our individual choice.

Recently Dan Dailey referenced me and my book, Inherited Rage, in a review, a blog about child abuse, and in this blog stated I was one of the angriest people he knew.

At first I felt like I had been slapped. I don’t want to be known as the angriest person anyone knows. Then I started thinking… Dan’s a hermit in the desert; he really doesn’t get out that much; what does he really know about angry?

Then I thought hmmmm… Bad press is the best press, and if Dan slating me as one of the angriest he knows draws people to learn and grow from my experience… well then, damn, bring it on–slap me again Dan.

I may struggle with anger ’til the day I die, but I don’t fight what has happened in the past in my head anymore. That battle I do feel I have won. But I will fight the atrocities that I perceive ’til the day I die.

It makes me angry to see so much random abuse in the world. But it is what it is and there is a lesson in all of it for all of us.

What we do with emotion that occurs spontaneously when someone says something not to our liking can be the difference of either closing or opening the door of opportunity. It is a challenge to remind ourselves in the moment of that automatic knee jerk to THINK–but if we can remember that we can always turn the doorway into one of opportunity.

To all of you who read my blog thank you. May you all be blessed in untold ways. May you always see the opportunity that struggle offers and never never never quit! Never give up and always strive to be the very best you can be no matter what anyone says!

Inherited Rage can be found at http://www.amazon.com. It’s not a book for the weak of heart but those who have had the tenacity to read and finish just might find something that will leave them feeling blessed and lucky to have walked a different path.

Thank you to my readers- may GOD bless you all in good ways.

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9Wants to Know: Suspected murderer’s life of isolation

by administrator on May 15th, 2013
Posted In: Mary Ellen's Blog
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Recently had an interview about the effects of solitary confinement on Evan Ebel, who killed DOC director Tom Clements. The Channel 9 reporter, Jace Larson, seemed very caring — and thorough — tracking down Ebel’s experiences as a teen in a camp for troubled kids. Even then solitary was a part of Ebel’s life. We can trace the events leading to Ebel’s horrible acts and his tragic life back to the effects of solitary confinement — which IS torture.

Not the cause, but one of the precipitating factors.

And remember, most of our juvenile lifers have spent years in solitary. When Tom Clements was alive, he agreed solitary had been overused and that we must make allowance and adjustments on the time served by our young juveniles. He knew.

And now Mr. Clements is gone — and with him much of our hope to move toward a more enlightened system.

http://www.9news.com/news/investigative/335971/207/Suspected-murderers-life-of-isolation

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Here we go again

by administrator on May 3rd, 2013
Posted In: Mary Ellen's Blog
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Mom who kills helpless baby gets less time in prison than child who kills abusive parents. In the hierarchy of crimes, obviously babies have less value than adults. And, the press will dwell on the mother’s problems – as if that is an excuse – and say there is no excuse for a child who does something similar?

What is wrong with us?

Sharrieckia Page , mom who suffocated infant son weeps in court, asks for forgiveness

11:31 AM, May 3, 2013   |   0  comments

KUSA – The 23-year-old mother who killed her 7-month-old son, was described as a depressed drug user, who self-medicated with drugs and alcohol while raising three children during her sentencing on Friday. Sharrieckia Page suffocated Tory Brown and disposed of his body in two grocery bags, a backpack and a garbage bag in March 2012.

On Friday, Judge John Popovich sentenced Page to 42 years in prison plus five years of mandatory parole, after she pleaded guilty to second-degree murder in March. She’s been ordered to pay $6,849 in restitution.

Page wept and asked the family of her son for forgiveness.

“I most likely guess you don’t want to hear from me,” Page told the judge, addressing her son’s paternal grandmother. “But I ask you to forgive me.”

“I apologize for what I’ve done, I know it wasn’t right,” Page said. “I apologize to the Brown family and my mom. I hope everyone can forgive me.”

Commerce City Police and other investigators spent weeks combing through a landfill before finding Tory’s body.

Page’s defense told the court her family was “in crisis” at the time of Tory’s birth. She lived in poverty, defense said, and was about to be evicted.

Page started using drugs at the age 10 and alcohol at 16. The defense told the judge Page tried to kill herself five times and has two other children, a 6-year-old and a 4-year-old. The prosecutor asked for 40 years in the department of corrections.

“[She] showed [Tory] no mercy, no forgiveness and took no accountability of her actions,” the prosecutor said.

“[Sharrieckia] was never able to bond with this child,” Carla Williams, Page’s mother, said while addressing the court. “I didn’t want it to be like this. I never expected this would ever happen. I know we can’t change things, but I loved Tory too. In some ways, I feel like I failed both of them too.”

In open court, Page’s defense said she sought help from Aurora Mental Health for post-partum depression. Social Services were also involved in her case.

BACKGROUND

The Commerce City Police Department investigated a missing-person incident involving Page’s son on March 29, 2012.

Sources confirmed to 9NEWS the baby was thrown in a Dumpster.

“Over a 53-day period, 500 people from 26 agencies and community organizations across the state and nation participated in the search,” Commerce City Police said.

LaShannon Younger of Peoria, Ill., Page’s cousin, said she was worried about the baby after Tory talked with Page on the phone.

Younger says Page told her she was having a hard time raising the child. She says her cousin kept saying that she gave the baby away and that he was never coming back.

(KUSA-TV © 2013 Multimedia Holdings Corporation)

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Small Acts of Kindness

by administrator on May 3rd, 2013
Posted In: Mary Ellen's Blog
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I am an all or nothing kind of person. Many of us are. We are going to either lose 10 pounds in a week or forget it. Run all the bums out of office or not bother to vote. Clean the house from top to bottom – or never wash the dishes. At least that’s me.

But when I get burned out and frustrated at not winning the big battles I forget that we can and are making a difference. Sometimes the smallest gesture can have a major impact on a person’s life. And sometimes we’re lucky enough to be thanked by the recipient – which means as much to as our gesture did to them.

What follows is a letter from one of our young prisoners who received a Pendulum Foundation Scholarship for college courses. Our scholarship criteria are that the individual must be under 18 at time of arrest and serving 20 years or more.

Where do I begin with this letter? I remember when I first was arrested, I wanted to find something positive to invest in and immediately turned toward education. I studied for about a month and then I went and took my GED tests. Even though I was subsequently sentenced to 40 years, I still was happy that I found a positive avenue that I could invest my time into and hopefully become a better person. But things didn’t go as planned. No one inside the system wanted to give me a chance. They argued that it would be a waste of resources since I had so much time and my degree I obtained would be invalid after a dormant 10 years. Student advisors shunned me. DOC case managers ignored my correspondence course requests. Even vocational teachers inside the system didn’t want to touch me. I felt like I was forced onto a path of “prison politics.” Concerning myself with only the happenings of prison and my future here. I spent 9 aimless years just “doing time.”

Then I heard about your program. I wrote and you denied me like everyone else had done in the past. But something told me to try again and we were able to find some middle ground. I remember the letter said, “You’re technically ineligible because of the date of your arrest, but timing is so close and we really applaud your desire to continue and education. I will help you.” I don’t think you know how much you changed my life with that letter. You created better options for my day to day activities which in turn created better options for my life. You had my back when there was no one else. You gave me an opportunity to dream about a life outside of prison, a successful life, a responsible life.

I’m currently taking my final course of my A.A. degree at Adams State. Yep, a big milestone for me, but not the end. Other people saw the success I had with the course you paid for and eventually they opened the door up for me too. Yeah, all the people who told me NO in the beginning saw my dedication due to the opportunities you gave me. So I’ve been able to do a lot of patchwork with different colleges.

Mary Ellen Johnson, the confidence, maturity, knowledge, and opportunities available to me now are all because of you and I thank you and appreciate you with all my heart. Please stay as beautiful as you are because you are changing lives.

 

 

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What Is Love Anyway?

by administrator on May 1st, 2013
Posted In: Mary Ellen's Blog
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One of the comments I hear most often about our guys is “Isn’t it a shame they’ll never be in a relationship?” Meaning they’re locked up for life and can’t have sex so… well, what else is there to say?

Or if they do have a girlfriend or a fiance or a wife, “What is wrong with those women?” Because these guys are locked up for life and can’t have sex so…

I’ve made my own jokes. “They’re young. They’re buff. They’re happy to sit across from you for hours and pretend they’re listening to you yammer about your “feelings.” You know where they’re at on a Saturday night and somebody else does their laundry. What more could you want? If the state allowed conjugal visits, you’d have the perfect relationship.”

Ha, ha.

Well, I’ve learned a lot about love behind walls, and not just the kind made of concrete. Most of us love behind walls. How many happily married people do you know? How many relationships that make you think, I wish I had that? I can count them on the fingers of one hand. Inside or outside of prison.

Looking back over my life, my relationships and those of everyone around me, love is about as rare as a unicorn sighting. Not because love doesn’t exist, but because we act as if it doesn’t and so it, being a shy creature, keeps its distance. We spend so much time trying to crush love, to keep it caged or contained or managable or to mock and ridicule it that it’s no wonder that we are so obsessed with it. And have NO clue what love, actual, legitimate, love is about.

Of course we live vicariously through celebrities with beautiful faces and bodies so we seem to think, That’s love. At least I assume we think that because we seem so fixated on the likes of Demi and Ashton – I agree he IS eye candy, or Kim and Kanye, ugh, or Brangelina or whoever the hell else is out there. I only glimpse these people on the edge of Huffington Post or the other liberal sites I peruse. So… love must be sex? An accumulation of pleasingly assembled body parts which cause the couple to think the rest of the world is actually interested in their own fine selves and their sexual gymnastics. Which we must be judging by the homemade porno tapes, nipple flashes, cleavage, booties, and bare chests that receive millions of daily hits.

As if love is about physical appearance.

As if love is limited to sex.

Just goes to show how stupid we all are.

I witness a lot of things in prison visiting rooms. And I make a lot of judgements, most of them undoubtedly erroneous, but this is what I see:

  • Obese, bleached blondes with too much makeup and too much living etched on their faces hooked up with good looking African-Americans who will surely use and abuse them inside and discard them once they’re back on the streets.
  • The clean-cut All-American psychopath serving life for sweet-talking his lover into gunning down his wife, hypnotizing his earnest old-maid visitor who’s pretending she’s there to save his soul while she’s actually being seduced as methodically, as relentlessly as a cobra hypnotizes its victims.
  • Some of the toughest, most bad ass criminals crying quietly as they relive with their mother or their sister or their girlfriend their crime, their shame, their shortcomings, or mourn the people they love on the outside who have died, are dying, hurting, in trouble, whatever it is that causes those embarrassing, unstoppable tears.
  • Tattooed gangbangers playing Connect 4 or Chutes and Ladders or Candyland with children that that they pretty much ignored other than to say, “Go watch TV,” in the free world.
  • Men with more muscles than a champion weightlifter holding hands with their girlfriends while quietly reading the Bible together.
  • The shotcaller caressing the arms of his much older wife – he’s a trim dapper man in his fifties, his white-haired old lady looks very sweet and about as sexy as my 88-year-old mother. What’s that about? And, why does Shotcaller look so happy? Doesn’t he know what the choice of his partner must be doing to his image? Doesn’t he have the good sense to be embarrassed?

Yet, every once in a while I’ll see a look pass between Shotcaller and his wife, or that worn out blonde and her man, or one of a dozen others, that can only be described as pure love.

That naked, unguarded moment, right out there in front of God and everyone, behind those prison walls, when love makes its appearance.

I’ve learned a few things about love in prison.

First of all, the women who faithfully visit, week after week, year after year who MUST be getting conned by their studs – we must protect them from themselves – are getting something out of these relationships too. Maybe it’s just a few hours of respite from worry about their beater car, or their teen who’s on drugs, or their bitchy boss. Maybe all the women are seeking is somebody who makes them laugh. Who tells them they’re beautiful. Who looks them in the eye when they talk. Who makes holding hands more erotic than all the things they’ve done with all the lovers they’ve had over the course of their lifetimes. Maybe that old maid Bible-thumper has never experienced being wooed with words by ANYONE, let alone a brown-eyed handsome man. I have no idea. But I do know this. If they’re being victimized every minute of every day, “normal” people on the outside are engaged in their own dysfunctional dances — lying to each other, cheating on each other, slicing each other’s hearts outs with their betrayals and their cruelties.

Secondly, when you can make love to someone’s body, there’s no need to make love to their minds.

You get lazy. You neglect the most important part.

Is that an American thing? To assume that sex is the yardstick by which to measure a successful relationship? If that were so, all those gorgeous celebrities would be enjoying lifetimes of love with one partner, wouldn’t they?

If I had a choice, I’d prefer the whole package. But having been in a 30 year marriage, a pretty typical one I would say, where both couples skate across its surface and never dare dig down deep because who knows what hurts and needs might be uncovered and do we really, really want to deal — the norm is highly over rated.

If I were forced to choose – if you can make love to my body and disregard my mind or vice versa — I’ll take the mind.

Having no choice but to talk with someone for hours at a time is like engaging in an archealogical dig. If you suspect the prize at the end is worth your time and effort, you will continue excavating the layers. Who is this person? What does he really think? What does he really feel? What are his deepest, secret fears? Who does he love? What does he love? What makes him laugh? What are his opinions about God, the workings of the Universe, Rocky and Bullwinkle? If another human being can fascinate and frustrate and tantalize me enough to keep me coming back that’s plenty rare. (Or maybe not so rare. If we were all forced to take the time with more of the people around us.) As someone who sleepwalks through her life, the way most of us do, I’ve learned a lot from being in prison.

But it’s not only prison.

Recently, a miracle occurred. I’m at a small party. Two people walk in. Homely by any objective standards. He’s short, extremely overweight and wearing the typical fat person outfit – sweat pants, tent of a t-shirt under a baggy workshirt. One glance and I have him pegged. Trailer trash with emotional issues. I see his partner, short, more than pleasingly plump herself, and what’s the deal with that wig?

What a couple of losers. And as far as having sex, how could they even if they wanted to, which they couldn’t possibly because they’re too repulsive to be an object of attraction to themselves or anyone else.

Okay, so I’m watching them, not for the right reasons, but I am basically a snide, shallow person. Almost immediately, however, I notice something unusual. This couple can’t keep their hands off of each other. Not in that fakey, romantic movie type way but in the way a mother is with her baby, or a dog lover with his faithful old Lab. Because the object of your affection is just so irresistible and you love them so much and it’s the most natural thing in the world to reach out and caress that chubby little cheek or scratch Hunter behind his ears. You just can’t help it.

I’m mentally reshuffling all my judgment cards. I’m mesmerized. Who are they? What’s their story? Turns out he’s a wealthy businessman – don’t think he lives in a trailer – with the pretty typical abusive childhood who never opened himself to love until this woman happened along. And his partner with the ridiculous wig? She’s got cancer, which is no longer in remission, and may only have months to live.

By the end of the evening, the miracle happens. This couple shines more beautifully than all the perfectly constructed faces and bodies in show biz.

I’ve spotted the unicorn.

So the next time you’re tempted to pity or scorn people in prison, to judge them or anyone else by your presumption of “normal” standards, you would be well advised to question what normal even means.

Dig deep enough, do enough searching and you might just happen across your very own personal unicorn.

You just never know.

 

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Epitaph to an ex-Mother-in-Law

by administrator on April 24th, 2013
Posted In: Mary Ellen's Blog
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One of the meanest women I ever met was my mother-in-law, Dorothy Johnson. (No pseudonyms here. She’s dead and I’m divorced and long ago ceased being concerned about blowback.) Dorothy was a Texas woman, superficially charming and friendly with an open smile and a ready laugh. But for some reason she liked people to know that she was tough as rawhide. She’d tell stories of shooting between a wrongdoer’s legs, of pulling her drunken spouse out of various bars and giving him a tongue lashing, and she surely loved letting anybody who got on her wrong side know what horse’s butts they were. And, boy, could Dorothy Johnson hold a grudge! When she conjured up her grievances, the hate would roll off of her in waves so strong you’d get sick just being exposed to them. Dorothy would grit her teeth and her small eyes (George Bush eyes) would draw closer together and she would let loose on an insane tirade that might end up with her threatening to or actually attempting to whip somebody’s ass.

I have never known a woman so intent on getting her way. Dorothy would badger her sons or her husband, whoever was doing or not doing her bidding, until they would acquiesce. Whether those harangues lasted a day or a week, Dorothy Johnson always won. I remember visiting her when she was on a tear and her sons would sit there with blank looks on their faces, trying to tune her out. After enduring her nagging for as long as humanly possible, her husband would retreat to his garage, where he’d search out one of his many hidden bottles of whiskey. I don’t blame Mr. Johnson for drinking. You either fled Dorothy’s presence, succumbed to her will or you’d have to kill her. There were no other options.

For years, Dorothy Johnson was my nemesis. Oh, how I hated that woman. I was young and innocent and trying to raise babies to the best of my ability and I’d never encountered someone so mean-spirited. Sometimes she’d confront me directly; more often she’d indulge in hit and run maneuvers, engaging anyone who would listen and a lot who would rather not. Being in Dorothy Johnson’s cross hairs was like being blown to bits before you even realized you’d stepped on her land mine.

The genesis of my hurt, of course, was because my husband wouldn’t stand up to her. He would retreat into a little boy silence or take her side or tell me, “She’s my mother.” Translation to my young ears: “That crazy bitch means more to me than you do. So suck it up and endure.”

I carried that sense of injustice, that thwarted longing to be able to speak out and defend myself, for probably the first decade of my marriage. And then one day I realized: That old woman means nothing to me. I don’t respect her or her opinions so why am I allowing myself to waste one second of my life brooding over anything she might say or do? I am so over it.

And I was.

I pretty much forgot about Dorothy Johnson except for the few times my husband and I made the obligatory visit to West Texas. He, who hated being around her as much as I did, would promptly leave me alone with her and retreat to the company of his much more avuncular father-in-law.

One of the many reasons he and I are no longer married.

Upon our divorce, Dorothy informed Ex that he’d better make sure he got his father’s war medals because she just knew I would keep them or destroy them rather than hand them over.

Hearing that, I just shook my head. The thought of keeping anything my ex cherished never entered my mind. But that’s how Dorothy would have reacted. Because in Dorothy’s world, no matter what the circumstances, it had to be all about Dorothy Johnson and Dorothy Johnson’s bad-assery.

Years after Ex and I went our separate ways, Dorothy officially went out of a mind that had become little more than a bunch of malevolent, misfiring synapses. Maybe she had Alzheimer’s. Or maybe she was just so mean that her brain couldn’t take all the meanness and finally melted. Whatever, even in her sub-human state, she managed to inhabit center stage. Her husband visited her faithfully in the nursing home. Day after day. Year after year. Their substantial fortune was diminished, but still Dorothy didn’t have the good grace to expire. Maybe she was just too nasty to die.

Or as my dad used to say about Ronald Reagan, “You can’t kill something worthless.”

But, finally, finally, even Dorothy Johnson had to bow to Death.

Despite the financial drain of her nursing care, Dorothy left a sizable estate. After her husband’s death the proceeds were to be dispersed according to a will created I don’t know how many years ago. Surely before dementia kicked in, so it had to have been at least a decade. When the will was read, Dorothy bequeathed something to everyone – except for my children. (Of course she was such a nasty woman none of the grandkids had much to do with her. It wasn’t as if mine had treated her any differently.)

But there it was.

Dorothy Johnson had exposed her hand.

When I heard she’d disinherited my kids I laughed in delight. I knew what that was all about. Dorothy couldn’t get to me so she thought to hurt me through my children. Because of course in Dorothy’s mind, I would actually care about her money. I would be angry and upset. I would be hurt. I would rage.

Boy, did she really not know me or my offspring.

“Wow,” I said, “That’s great. Even after all this time I must have still bugged the shit out of her!”

Not the reaction my former mother-in-law would have hoped for.

Dorothy Johnson taught me a couple of things. First, allowing someone to harass and intimidate anyone they take a fancy to simply because you don’t want to deal with that endless pit of rage does a disservice, not only to you, but to that fellow human being. Had someone — husband, kids, sisters, parents, ANYONE — ever said, “No, Dorothy, that’s enough, stop it,” MEANT it and refused to wither before her tantrums, Dorothy Johnson might have been saved from herself. That monster was partially created by those who couldn’t see past that bottomless chasm of need and thwarted desires to realize, “If I love this person I have to help her.

Secondly, nobody can hurt us unless we allow them to. We can relive endless hurts and slights long after that person has moved along – as Dorothy obviously nursed her hatred of me – and who does it destroy? Not the person you’re obsessed with, that’s for sure.

Life is too short and too precious. And hatred too draining. And, when I leave this planet, I’d rather have survivors mourn than breathe a sigh of relief.

Or write epitaphs such as this.

Have I forgiven Dorothy Johnson? Someday, maybe, I’ll take the time to reach down inside and say, “I forgive you.”

For now she’s simply irrelevant.

Oh, and that money she chose not to will to my kids?

My ex, bless his heart – I erase all the unkind thoughts I’ve had about him – is splitting his portion of her inheritance with them.

Oh, Dorothy. Because you were so consumed with spite, you forgot a possibility that those of us with less shriveled hearts might immediately grasp.

That the love your son has for his children might — just might — overcome the power you thought you exercised over him – even from beyond the grave.

Rest in peace, Dorothy Johnson. You taught me a lot.

And…

You will not be missed.

 

 

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Criminal Justice Reform – Join The Fight

by administrator on April 22nd, 2013
Posted In: Mary Ellen's Blog
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04/18/2013

For many of us who advocate for criminal justice, juvenile justice and prison reform, the battle has been long and unending.  We have met with lawmakers, approached medical experts, spoken with judges, prison officials and gathered as much information as possible.  There are hundreds of strong reports published over the last ten years that present evidence that our current policies and practices do not work.

But we don’t have to read reports, we don’t have to listen to the testimony of experts and we don’t have to look to our lawmakers for guidance.  We just need to look in our own back yards.  We can see the devastation that violence, incarceration and prison conditions produces.  We can see the impact on families, neighborhoods, communities, states and this nation.  We can look around and see the need for change but we are not sure how to go about it.

Our “War On Drugs” and “Tough On Crime” policies have not stopped mass murder.   These policies have not stopped gang related violence.  These policies have not lessened the incidence of addiction or the impact of addiction on our communities.  These policies have not worked.

What will?  A return to humanity.  A return to caring for and finding healing for those among us who have mental illness, addiction problems, whose lives have been plagued with abuse, neglect and violence.  We have to decide we want to heal.  We have to decide that brokenness and disease are not acceptable and find a way to bring comfort and healing.

We have built huge prison complexes to house those who are broken, sick and misguided.  We spend billions of dollars on locking away PEOPLE who need help in finding their way and success in our communities.  We have taken rehabilitation, treatment, education and life skills training out of our prisons and leave PEOPLE to rot away in cement cells.  We have failed to address restoration, re-payment for harm done and healing for victims through sincere apologies, counseling and support.  We have taken away everything that works to restore human lives and communities.

The person who breaks a law or commits a crime has a PROBLEM.  Our first concern should be to address the problem of that individual so that they may make reparations for the harm they have done.  That is actually a biblical and spiritual principal.  We need better mental health care and treatment facilities for the mentally ill.  We need to better educate and train our youth so that they realize there is a world outside “The hood” where they can become successful.  We need to support families dealing with addiction and provide addiction treatment.  We need to address family violence so that violence is not a way of life.  We need accountability for our brothers and our brothers need to be accountable.  In other words we need to care because every brother that is hurting effects our health and the health of our communities.

It has been a long road and I must say that in the beginning I was seen as a bleeding heart for a hopeless cause.  I am happy to say that is no longer the case.  A LONG list of support has come out in favor of prison and justice reform.  Many of them may surprise you although if you think about it….it shouldn’t.  They clearly see the impact on their families, their people and their neighborhoods.  In this article posted by Prison Fellowship and Justice Fellowship, there is a CALL TO ACTION directed at the Christian community.

Even more powerful is this open letter to President Obama from advocates that state they are ready to support policy changes and conditions of confinement and treatment for offenders.  This list includes people like Will Smith, Jada Pinkett Smith, Q-Tip, Sean “Diddy” Combs, the Kardashians, Eva Longoria, Demi Moore, Susan Sorandon, Chris Rocke and such spiritual leaders as Rabbi Robyn Fryer Bodzin, Depak Chopra and Rev. Michale McBride.  The list of supporters includes lawmakers, actors, musicians, religious leaders, fashion leaders and more.  They have joined together as a coalition of advocates to speak for change in our justice system and the prison industrial complex.
Rappers, Stars Ask Obama to Ease Drug Policy, Reform Prisons

We know that our current policies and practices DON”T work.  We know that we are not doing the right thing by our brother.  We are tired of poor, broken and hurting communities.  So isn’t it time for change?  Join the many voices, educate yourself and bring a change for health and humanity to YOUR COMMUNITY!
There are many education tools on our web site FreeJonny as well as The Sentencing Project, The Pendulum Foundation and The Campaign For The Fair Sentencing Of Youth.

We are also happy to speak to your church, club or organization concerning prison reform policies, justice reform and juvenile justice reform Contact Us and we can get started.

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