Translator: Delia Cohen Reviewer: Ellen Maloney
July 25, 2005,
my life changed forever.
I went to bed that night, my children were asleep,
my police officer husband Dan was out doing what he loved-
working the night shift in San Leandro, California.
We had just celebrated my son's 15th birthday the day before,
and our six-year-old daughter was the happiest daddy's girl on earth.
But at one A.M. that night, I got that knock on my door,
and the news of my husband's death
was delivered by three of our closest friends
who were working with him that night,
and my world was absolutely shattered.
I went to bed thinking that tragedy wouldn't touch me,
but I woke up to a much different and horrifying new reality.
Before this happened,
I thought I knew what public safety looked like.
I thought that as long as our prisons were full, we were safe.
I didn't really know who "criminals" were,
but I was pretty sure they belonged locked in prison forever.
And after Dan was killed, I knew I was right.
When Irving Ramirez was convicted of Dan's murder,
I begged the jury for the death penalty,
and I got it.
I begged for it out of anger and vengeance: I was out for blood.
I hated Irving,
but I also did it because I was told by many people
that the death penalty would be the key to my healing,
but that ended up not being true for me.
When the joy of winning that verdict evaporated,
the real misery set in,
and I had no idea what to do.
So, for the next several years as I searched for answers,
I learned that our system
routinely fails crime victims on almost every level,
myself included, even though I got what I thought I wanted.
I was beginning to give up hope that I would ever find the answer,
and then I was introduced to Insight Prison Project.
They asked me to come and share my story with a group of women
who were serving life sentences for murder.
I said yes, but I was terrified to go into that prison.
I had no idea what to expect.
I thought they were going to eat me alive until I met them
and found that many of them were just like me.
I didn't expect to connect with those women the way that I did.
I didn't expect to see myself in their stories;
I didn't expect to cry with them the way that I did.
And because of that experience I learned that the key to my healing
was in connecting with people who had committed a great deal of harm
and were learning to find their own humanity,
because by that time, I had lost mine.
Looking back now, I think the thing most responsible
for separating me from love and compassion,
understanding and forgiveness,
was seeking my healing in the misery and death of another human being.
(Applause)
It was really clear to me at that point that more suffering wasn't the answer,
but what happened in that group, for me, that was the answer.
Now the work that men and women do in IPP's Victim Offender Education Group
is extraordinarily deep and powerful.
It's about a year and a half of really emotional work
that explores the impact of their crime.
What it looks like to truly be accountable for those actions,
building empathy for victims,
and then ultimately healing their own unresolved trauma.
And this is really important,
because everybody that lives in prison today won't be there forever.
Over 90% of them are going to go home at some point,
and they're going to move in next door to someone.
Now that wouldn't scare me if I knew that they had been through a VOEG group
or one of the other amazing programs that exist in this prison,
because I really believe these programs deliver public safety.
I know that this was true for me
because watching people be transformed by this amazing work
completely erased my need to see Irving die, and I never saw that coming.
If people would have told me ten years ago
that I would get involved with IPP and become a facilitator
and come into prison every Saturday
and work with a group of men serving life sentences
and find my own healing in the process?
No way.
I couldn't imagine that would ever be true,
but here I am.
(Applause)
I never thought
I would have the opportunity to experience this level of emotional healing
or to support the healing of others.
I never thought I would get to see people who were hardened by anger and fear
and unresolved trauma heal and then become healers for others.
It's been an absolutely amazing experience
and I'm so grateful.
But it can't stop with me and the other volunteers
in this prison who love this work.
It's really sad
that these programs are so rare
outside of San Quentin, and we need to change that.
But the way I see it, there are three distinct groups of people
who have the most power to influence the way people come home from prison:
and that's lawmakers, prison administrators, and society.
For lawmakers, I'm asking you to create smart justice policies
that reduce incarceration and address the real drivers of crime,
like poverty, addiction, and mental health issues,
and unresolved trauma.
(Applause)
We are so far beyond the "tough on crime" era
that promised to deliver public safety and utterly failed.
The voting public knows the system is broken,
and we're ready for a new direction.
For prison administrators,
I'd ask you to keep saying yes
to programs like what Insight Prison Project brings
and the other programs that are in this prison.
Bring it to other prisons; make it available.
These programs help increase safety inside the prisons,
they reduce prisoner-on-staff violence,
and they transform the lives of people on both sides of the prison walls.
Keep saying yes
to media who want to showcase the work being done and the lives being changed.
That's necessary; people need to know what's going on in here.
And I ask you to keep exploring ways to allow prisoners to reconnect
with their families and to heal and become vectors of healing,
not just for other prisoners
but for people like me who are victims of crime.
Your decisions in here directly affect what happens out there.
(Applause)
And lastly, to society,
I ask that you set aside what you think you know
about incarcerated people and just get curious.
I'm not asking you to ignore the harm they've caused; I wouldn't do that.
I'm asking you to be open to the possibility
that people can and do change.
I did.
I ask you to remain open to the fact that redemption is possible.
And lastly I want to ask you to forgive,
but not in the way that you might think.
I'm asking that we allow the debt
of formerly incarcerated people to be paid.
That's why we sent them to prison, right?
(Applause)
We sent them to prison to pay their debt to us;
the only problem with that is that it never actually happens.
I didn't know that the stigma lasted forever, until I met people
who had done time in prison and are out now
doing amazing work in the world,
and then watching them be shut out and marginalized at every turn
no matter what they do.
Felony convictions bar opportunities for safe housing, employment,
mental health, trauma recovery services.
When we continuously throw barriers in front of people who are trying
to take responsibility and become productive members of society,
we set them up for failure, and then we all lose.
I really believe that the goal of public safety can be achieved
without tearing each other apart,
but it's going to take all of us working together to undo that harm
and to let that healing begin.
We can do better, and we must.
Thank you.
(Applause)