|
The U. S. War on Drugs is apparently over. The
miracle moment in the government’s recent epiphany appears
to be a result of fiscal rather than common sense. Deficit
hawks in the Republican Party began to flip the
incarceration script after recognizing marijuana sales as a
new source of government revenue.
Spiraling budget costs associated with “lock-em-up and throw
away the key” policies on nonviolent crimes such as street
drug sales, also helped generate the political will to move
forward to fight other emerging enemies including terror and
the economy.
What’s up, then, with the armies of
out-of-control youth who keep our neighborhoods and
community institutions under siege with their bullets,
attitudes and behavior?
When millions of nonviolent offenders are extracted from
inner cities, it is “costly, not only in dollars but also
the people involved,” according to Paul Larkin, a criminal
justice expert at the conservative Heritage Foundation.
After 45 years and $15 trillion U. S. investment in a
punitive rather than rehabilitative system of justice,
Larkin’s insight is a day late and a dollar short. However,
he is correct. It has been the drug war’s social impact,
more than its more obvious economic consequences, perhaps,
that have kept poor and communities of color in ruins for
decades.
How so?
It is well known that certain problems of growing up are
exacerbated by the incarceration of parents, including risk
for later delinquency, mental disorders, aggressive
behavior, school failure, underemployment and illegal drug
use.
A
much lesser-known weapon of mass destruction is the prison
subculture that returning prisoners carry back to the
community and via spillover through communication back and
forth between the prison and the street.
This subculture is characterized by violent prison
interpersonal styles needed to survive in the harsh prison
environment, hostility to established authority and
desensitized feelings toward prosocial norms, values and
beliefs. This prison culture, including prison dress, is
also celebrated in music and media and often functions as
“anticipatory socialization” of community children to the
prison experience.
Also, when large numbers of inmates are removed to or return
from prison, positive social relationships are destabilized
which causes street networks to become broader and deeper.
The peer influence from the streets competes with adult
authority at home, school, church, or other voluntary
organizations. Thus, the ability to equip children with the
controls and attitudes that usually insulate them against
crime and antisocial behavior is severely handicapped.
In the aftermath of the War on Drugs, there are more than
600,000 mostly black and brown former prisoners of war
returning annually to war-torn low-income communities. These
neighborhoods are not only disconnected from jobs and
mainstream political life, but are places where negative
attitudes towards social institutions keep residents
physically and psychologically isolated.
Who will lead in the reconstruction of the community?
The effort is not likely to come from elected
or appointed officials. Instead, it will take those “whose
mission and competencies are rooted in integrity, empathy
and hope” – who must pick up the pieces and refashion
communities that have been devastated by war.
It will take the continued work of someone like University
of Toledo doctoral student Alicia Smith and a serious
commitment from one of the local universities to develop a
research agenda that focuses on dismantling the school to
prison pipeline or clarifying the link between incarceration
and problematic outcomes in low-income neighborhoods.
It takes the persistent quest for prison reform and
alternative justice solutions from someone like Judge Denise
Cubbon and Rachel Gardner, site coordinator, Lucas County
Juvenile Court.
It takes the dogged determination of Woody and Judy Trautman
to transform our culture of callousness, by continuing to
create a Compassionate Community designed to break down
political, dogmatic, ideological and religious boundaries.
Finally, it will take the construction of new
self-identities for poor youth of color by an informed
multi-faith coalition of black and brown leaders who care
deeply, both about their own communities as well as the
future of American society at large.
We have learned from this sordid war experience that the
solution is not merely harsher and longer punishments, but
in finding ways to “encourage and strengthen the bonds that
make families possible, give life to community, and
ultimately determine the character of our society as a
whole.”
A
lesson that is better learned late than never.
Contact Rev. Donald Perryman, D.Min, at
drdlperryman@centerofhopebaptist.org
|
