“Where there is no vision, the people perish: but he that keepeth the law [of liberty], happy is he.” (Proverbs 29:18, insert from James 1:25)
What does it mean to be free? Free of body, mind and spirit? There are many ways we imprison ourselves and others. The shape and material of shackles shifts with the creativity of a magician. For one, it might be addiction; for another, hatred and bitterness. My shackles might be literal, made of stainless steel. Yours may be a career that has slowly been suffocating you, but you can’t break free because of how badly you need the salary.
Let us dream for a moment of a world freed. Freed from fear, hatred, bitterness, isolation, violence, horror, depravity, othering, disdain, marginalization, minoritization and criminalization of humanity. Dream with me of a world that honors human dignity, where we actually see our neighbor. Where we have remembered how to love our neighbor, and how to see and feel the humanity that connects us to our neighbors from whom we are separated by seas.
I started this year with a beautiful vision. Catherine Besteman and I co-authored the three-part Restorative Pathway to Decarceration and Abolition here in Maine. Far from an impossible dream, we laid out tangible steps that can be taken to bring that future of safety and connection to fruition. In the “Before” section, we envisioned how we can keep people in our communities after they have caused harm, and actually hold them accountable, rather than throwing them away, punishing them, and then unceremoniously dropping them back into a world they did not leave.
Looking forward, in the “Middle” section, we dreamed of what could be possible within current carceral institutions. Jails and prisons are not going to go away tomorrow. So, what can happen within them to make them less harmful while we work on creating a world that is more healed? We laid out practical steps that can be taken by outside partners, as well as Corrections administrators, staff, and incarcerated people themselves, to transform these toxic environments into ones that promote health, wellness and preparedness for life after captivity.
Finally, we looked at our communities in the “After” section. How can our neighbors come together to support people who are stepping into a place that has continued to change in their absence? What supports need to be there to help prevent the recurrence of desperation and impoverishment that likely led this person to prison in the first place? Together, we spoke about what can be done, and what roles people can play in making their own communities safer.
The State doesn’t make us safe. Not prisons, jails, police, punishment, more laws, isolation or separation. Freedom makes us safe. Community, love, collective liberation, mutual empowerment and honoring the interconnectedness that exists among us keeps us safe.
I remember the feeling of my neighbor’s soft hand as she guided 10-year-old me up to her daughter’s bedroom, to lay out a sleeping bag on her floor, when she found me sleeping on her porch in the dead of winter. I remember the gentle smile in her voice when she said, “Now you won’t need to walk across the street to bring Jamie to school in the morning.” In my moment of sorrow, loneliness and desperation, she met me with empowerment, trust and care.
I remember the feeling of my old friend talking to me on the phone after his release from prison. I remember this being the first time I heard excitement in his voice. “I’m going to be a father, bro! I can’t believe it.” I remember the texts and phone calls of celebration when he finally got a job that paid a living wage, and when his supervisor affirmed his worth by offering him a promotion. That was a hand up, rather than a handout. That was hope, provided by community.
I dream of freedom. I dream of a world where people care enough about each other that the thought of causing someone else pain is enough to prevent us from engaging in harmful behavior. I dream of a world where the corporate stealing of someone’s home is viewed as an obligation to help that person build a new home of their choosing, and where harm is met with a responsibility to participate in repair. I dream of a world of accountability over punishment. I dream of a world of love, and I believe we can bend reality and reshape the world to create it.
It has already happened once.
As Walidah Imarisha powerfully wrote in her essay “Rewriting The Future: Using Science Fiction To Re-Envision Justice,” “We [Black people in the U.S.] are the dreams of enslaved Black folks, who were told it was ‘unrealistic’ to imagine a day when they were not called property. Those Black people refused to confine their dreams to realism, and instead they dreamed us up. Then they bent reality, reshaped the world, to create us.”
Let us break free from the chains of what is and dream of what can be.
Leo Hylton is a PhD student at George Mason University’s Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter School for Peace and Conflict Resolution, currently incarcerated at Maine State Prison. His education and work are focused on Social Justice Advocacy and Activism, with a vision toward an abolitionist future. You can reach him at: Leo Hylton #70199, 807 Cushing Rd., Warren, ME 04864, or leoshininglight@gmail.com.
