Opinion: Jeanine Pirro is wrong about D.C.'s 'second-look' laws

The Donald Trump administration’s rhetoric about D.C. home rule – and the District’s progressive laws – is all negative. For example, U.S. Attorney Jeanine Pirro claimed that our second-look laws, which allowed me and so many others to come home after decades in prison, endanger the “people of this city and of this District.” 

But what she overlooks entirely is the most crucial positive impact of these laws on the lives of the incarcerated and their families: they offer us hope. That hope extends beyond our individual lives and into the communities we return to. 

Second-look laws allow judges to review sentences after an incarcerated person has served years of their time. Often, they are the only way a person might possibly get out one day.

This is what Pirro and others like her do not understand: The way we incarcerate in America is counterproductive to public safety. Why? Because long sentences meted out as retribution work against the rehabilitation  required to eventually return home as a healthy and productive citizen. It works like this: When you live in the wild (and trust me, prison is a jungle) and you have no hope of getting out in the foreseeable future, you adapt to your environment. You engage in all sorts of activities that are seen as anti-social in general society. For a lot of people, that means doing whatever helps them navigate their environments or makes them “comfortable” enough to do their time and make a “life” in prison. 

Having no hope of getting out also works against learning anger management and more productive ways of dealing with stress. I recall a crime that occurred in a Pennsylvania prison while I was incarcerated there. A lieutenant who’d been put in charge of shaking down cells to look for contraband trashed this one guy’s cell repeatedly, pouring his food from the prison store onto his personal belongings. The prisoner, Jessie, was in for life; he had no hope of making it out of the jungle anytime soon, if ever. So he lashed out. His anger at the injustice drove him to stab to death the next CO who walked into the unit. It was a horrific crime – and an acceptable way of maintaining respect in the jungle. And when you’re never getting out, the jungle is your world.

After all, why would a person care about violating the rules and getting an incident report, or even going back to court, when he or she faces a sentence like 55 years-to-life? Why would a person control their temper when they feel as though their life is already over?

Now contrast that scenario with scenes I’ve witnessed since the Incarceration Reduction Amendment Act (IRAA) was passed by the D.C. Council in 2016, which allowed some incarcerated D.C. residents who had been convicted as young people to petition for release. One friend who used to join any and every fight involving a D.C. “homie” began to hang back, knowing it could jeopardize his petition for release under IRAA. And another, who had declined GED classes in the past, not only enrolled, but graduated. He was so proud of his accomplishment that he bragged to me every day for about two weeks. Not to mention that this also propelled him to start taking college classes, and to think about himself in a whole different light.

People in harsh environments like prison need incentives to forego the “comforts” that could get them in trouble. They need a reason to focus on becoming successful when they are released. Avoiding violence (which is the currency of reputation in federal prison) and participating in whatever programming is offered not only creates a safer environment for prisoners and staff alike, but helps ensure that the individuals who return home to D.C. are mentally healthy and want to be productive neighbors, parents and spouses. 

I am one of those individuals. I didn’t have a very clean track record over my 22 years in prison when IRAA was passed. I participated in numerous activities I’m not proud of today when I thought the jungle was my home for as long as I could imagine. I sold drugs. I got into violent fights. But IRAA gave me hope. I was able to return to the D.C. jail to prepare for my hearing, where I participated in Georgetown University classes and felt the rewards of being a productive member of society. (Unfortunately, we no longer bring IRAA candidates back to D.C. But that’s a subject for a future column.)

And today, I am reunited with my mother; I am working as a Safe Passage Ambassador, protecting children while they walk to school; and I am executive director of a nonprofit organization I co-founded. 

I am not a unicorn. Every day I talk to men still behind the wall who are working hard to be worthy of IRAA, as well as those who were released earlier than me and are now working with the D.C. government, doing violence interrupter work, leading nonprofits, being entrepreneurs, or just working regular jobs, paying taxes and being citizens.

The truth is that people live differently in the woods (prison) than they would if they lived in a mansion (society). This isn’t true for all prisoners, as I have seen a lot of guys work on themselves and become rehabilitated simply because they wanted better for themselves or matured. But lacking hope completely is likely to create a dangerous mindset in most people.

That, U.S. Attorney Pirro, is the impact of the hope offered by D.C.’s second-look laws. And it’s a win for public safety in the District of Columbia.