January 27, 2006

Dear Editor:

You editorial, "Prisons, too, must act," was very wrong. Prisons are not the problem; public policy is. If we want to close the revolving doors to prison, we need the Governor and the legislature, supported by the public, to act.

More than 650,000 offenders will be released from prison this year in the U.S. and, as is sometimes said, "They are all coming to a neighborhood near you." Crime, especially by repeat offenders, is everyone's problem. But there are solutions.

The keys to reducing recidivism lie in several areas:

• Initially, we need to deal with the social problems of illiteracy, poverty, physical or sexual abuse of a child, and substance abuse. Your readers would be astounded to learn how common these fundamental issues are in the lives of those in prison. These problems need to be addressed; prisons need to provide education, literacy programs, anger management, substance abuse treatment programs, and mental health care.
• Offenders returning from prison often reenter the same community setting that helped them get into trouble in the first place. Unless we provide transition programs that can assist offenders in finding a place to live and help them get a job, they have very little chance of not re-offending. Community corrections programs, such as halfway houses, can provide the programming and support that can make the difference.

Obviously, this costs the taxpayers money, but it is very much a "pay me now, or pay me later" issue. The cost of reducing recidivism is far less than the cost of prisons, trials, the costs to victims, and to society as well.

The Associated of Private Correctional and Treatment Organizations (APCTO) calls on Governor Rendell and the legislature to make prison rehabilitation programs a priority. We need former offenders to have jobs, to be able to support their families and pay their taxes, not offenders for whom prison was merely on-the-job training for more crime.

Sincerely,
 

 
Michael T. LoBue, CAE
Executive Director

January 26, 2006

Philadelphia Police Commissioner Sylvester Johnson says about three-quarters of both the city's homicide victims and their assailants last year had prior criminal records. So, along with talk about better policing and gun control, shouldn't there be some discussion of how prisons can do more to reduce the murder rate, not just in this city but also across America?

Not every convict is a lifer. Most inmates eventually end up back on the street. But many get out of prison without having had any effective counseling or training in how to readjust to life in society. Too many men are leaving prison not much rehabilitated but very much angry. Angry that they went to prison, angry that the world changed while they were in prison, angry that they can't work where they want, can't live where they want - just angry.

Violence often occurs when one of these angry ex-offenders argues with someone with a similar background and mindset. Add a weapon, particularly a handgun, and someone is likely to die.

Hyyawatha Branch knows all about that. This slender, thoughtful man of peace has come a long way from the days when he was known as "Gang War Butch." But he hasn't forgotten what it's like to be an ex-con newly released into the world.

"In the military they teach you how to kill. Then when it's time to get out, they debrief you," Branch told me. "There's no debriefing when you come out of prison. You come out and you're pissed off. I was a big guy, angry at everyone. You didn't want to get in my way."

Branch, 57, started getting into trouble at age 8. It began with truancy and stealing. As an adult, he spent time in Easton, Holmesburg, Graterford and other prisons. His last sentence was for an act of senseless violence akin to what one still sees in Philadelphia. Branch was convicted of third-degree murder in the 1977 shooting of a 16-year-old he claimed had hit him in the head. News accounts said Branch shot the boy as he tried to run away, then laughed as he fired at another youth who threw a brick at him.

The shooting was what one might expect of a man who had spent most of his life in prison, where if you are not violent you are a victim.

"You either protect yourself in prison, or pay someone to protect you, or give in," Branch said. "You have to fight. There's nowhere to run. The guards are no help. The guards will allow a man to take another man's manhood. That's horrible."

Sent to Holmesburg in 1968, Branch wanted people to know he was not to be messed with. "The guards told me to find a cell anywhere, but that if I went past the water fountain at Cell 33 they couldn't protect me. So I chose a cell, cleaned it up and announced, 'The gym is open!' I fought anyone who wanted to fight, until they stopped coming."

During processing at Graterford in 1972, Branch was asked where his body should be sent in case of an emergency. "It was like they were letting me know they couldn't protect me," he said. "That question created in me a strong desire to live. I said to myself, 'If I had to fight for my life on the outside, you know I'm going to fight to survive in prison.' "

After finishing his last prison sentence in 1988, Branch walked the streets free but acted as if he were still in a cage. He was always on guard, always ready to fight.

"It took my daughters to calm me down," he said. "One of them asked me, 'Daddy, why do you always talk so rough to people?' I didn't realize I was doing that. I had another daughter who would call me every day. Finally, I asked her why. She said, 'Because every time I call I think it's going to be the last time. Every day I'm afraid you're going to end up back in prison or dead.' "

Family finally got Branch's attention. He's not angry today. He visits schools and churches to talk to kids about shunning violence.

He works with an anger-management specialist who counsels former inmates. "Lots of men don't realize where their anger comes from, why they feel they must defend perceived challenges to their manhood," he said.

Branch believes America's prisons do a poor job of preparing inmates for reentry into society because they want ex-cons to come back and keep the prison industry thriving. I hope that's not true, but it's a thought. The prisons can prove Branch wrong by releasing more inmates who aren't primed for violence when they get out.

Contact deputy editorial page editor Harold Jackson at 215-854-2555 or hjackson@phillynews.com.