The involvement of high school students as presenters at the sixth annual Restorative Justice Conference at the Marquette Alumni Memorial Union Tuesday was one of the reasons the day-long event, attended by a capacity crowd of about 350, was a success. The conference was sponsored by the Marquette Law School Restorative Justice Initiative.

Three students from Milwaukee’s Custer High School, two girls and a boy, didn’t offer research evidence or a PowerPoint presentation. They just described incidents they have been involved in as bullies and as victims, gave their thoughts on why students act the way they do — and held the rapt attention of the audience.

All three are part of the Violence Free Zone project at Custer, run by Running Rebels, a local organization that aims to direct teens away from violent behavior. 

“I feel people are bullies because they have nothing better to do,” said Kenyonna Glass, an eleventh grader. Shanique Harvey, a senior, said kids act like bullies because they think it helps get them in with the popular crowd. Lavonte King, a freshman, said he had been both a bully and a victim. “When I get bullied, I usually go bully someone else, take my anger out on someone else,” he said.

Asked by moderator India McCanse, executive director of Literacy Services of Wisconsin, what advice they would have for parents who want to reduce the chance of their children being either bullies or victims, Shanique said, “I would have to tell a parent to get more involved.” She suggested parents take some days off work and spend the time with their children.

But Kenyonna said, “Depends on who the parents are.” For many children, the problems of their parents are a major source of their own problems, she said. At another point, she said that often, “The person who is doing the bullying is probably going through things at home.”

Lavonte said he didn’t feel he could talk to anyone in his family about problems he is having with bullying. He said sometimes he talks to his younger brother. The brother doesn’t understand, he said, but it helps Lavonte to talk to him.

Shanique said if adults in the family can’t help, there are other adults. “Every child has someone they can look up to,” she said. She said high school life is hard for many teens, adding, “They have so many opportunities, and they don’t know they have them.”

In the keynote speech of the conference, Brenda Morrison, co-director of the Centre for Restorative Justice and an assistant professor in the School of Criminology at Simon Fraser University in British Columbia, outlined the attributes of approaches that lead to justice being done with people and not to people, as she put it.

Restorative justice efforts that aim to solve problems, heal wounds and direct those who have caused problems onto better paths are underway at many Milwaukee schools and in some criminal justice settings in Milwaukee. Morrison said, “Milwaukee, you have a lot to be proud of.” She said people elsewhere should learn from Milwaukee how to develop a comprehensive citywide strategy for restorative justice. She singled out for praise Justice Janine P. Geske, a distinguished professor on the law school faculty and head of the school’s initiative.

Morrison offered the three R’s of a restorative justice program – respect for the person, responsibility for behavior, and repair for harm done . She said, “We have to be willing to get involved in each other’s lives and stand up against behavior such as bullying.” As for lawyers, she said, “There are lots of really good lawyers doing amazing work within a system that needs to move to the next level of justice.”

The conference concluded with presentation of Starfish Awards to eight Milwaukeeans for their contributions to the community. They are:

All too often, we see and hear people trying to intimidate others-whether it involves politics, religion, driving habits, employment, sports, family or any other topic that creates conflict. Rather than civil and respectful discourse on tough topics, many routinely call each other derogatory names and describe the other as “evil,” “Hitler-like” “self-centered,” etc. We see physical violence and harassment occurring regularly in schools, places of employment and even on our highways. Finally, the language people use on talk shows or in e-mails, blogs, and even tweets often is designed to intimidate, ridicule and even destroy those with whom the speaker or writer disagree. I consider that this conduct to be an attempt at “adult bullying”…trying to “win” an argument by physically or verbally attacking others who in good faith see a situation or issue differently.

For the last four years, the Marquette Law School Restorative Justice Initiative (RJI) has held very successful annual conferences on topics involving victims and restorative justice, the international application of restorative justice and two conferences on creating safe streets through restorative justice. Last year when the planning committee for our 2009 (RJI) conference met, we decided to focus on restorative practices that address bullying because many schools were asking our assistance in creating approaches to address a serious problem of bullying in both elementary and high schools. On November 10, we will present our “Bullying in Schools–Teaching Respect and Compassion Through Restorative Practices” conference at the Marquette University Alumni Memorial Union. Not surprisingly we “sold out” all 350 seats at the conference. Students, parents, teachers and social workers continue to struggle with how to address instances of student bullying through physical and verbal abuse not to mention the terrible phenomenon of what is happening on the Internet including the sending of nude student pictures to others. Our conference is designed to help people learn of better ways to promote respectful and civil dialogue in our schools.

Dr. Brenda Morrison, our keynote speaker, describes bullying in the school context this way:

“The most frequently cited definition of bullying is the ‘repeated oppression, psychological or physical of a less powerful person by a more powerful person or group of persons’ (Rigby, 1996, p.15; see also Farrington, 1993; Olweus, 1993). Three critical points are important in this definition: Power: Children who bully acquire their power through various means: physical size and strength; status within a peer group; and recruitment within the peer group so as to exclude others. Frequency: Bullying is not a random act; it is characterized by its repetitive nature. Because it is repetitive, the children who are bullied not only have to survive the humiliation of the attack itself but live in constant fear of its re-occurrence. Intent to harm: While not always fully conscious to the child who bullies, causing physical and emotional harm is a deliberative act. It puts the child who is bullied in a position of oppression by the child who bullies.”

The RJI decided to offer both the academic community and the greater community an opportunity to learn more about bullying and how better to address the problem. The critical nature of the problem is accentuated by the fact that Mayor Tom Barrett, City of Milwaukee School Superintendent Andrew Andrekopoulos, and Milwaukee District Attorney John Chisholm will all play a role in the conference. We are fortunate to have the most prominent expert on the topic of restorative justice and bullying as our keynote speaker. Dr. Brenda Morrison, Co-Director of the Centre for Restorative Justice and Assistant Professor at Simon Fraser University, British Columbia. She will speak on “The Power Dynamics of Bullying” Negotiating the Socialand Emotional World of the School Community.” Following her talk, we will offer a panel discussion by four Milwaukee high school students who will talk about their respective experiences with bullying.

In the afternoon, we will offer a number of breakout sessions: “What is a Restorative Justice Circle?”, “A Discussion on the Legal Implications of Bullying” (presented by Milwaukee County District Attorney John Chisholm), “Cyberbullying and Social Interaction with Technology–How to Talk with Your Child,” (a discussion with educators from two high schools who have faced severe cases of sexual related internet bullying), “The Impact of Bullying on Learning,”  and “How MPS is Using Circles to Deal with Bullying” (with an actual demonstration of a circle with MPS students).

Finally at the end of the conference we will recognize eight “unsung Milwaukee urban heroes” who generously and regularly make a significant difference in the lives of children. Each recipient will receive our RJI Starfish Award and a financial award to use how they see fit. The winners are:

Sister Clara Atwater described as a “living saint” in our city. As founder of the nonprofit Gingerbread Land Inc. on the north side of Milwaukee and as a spiritual leader of True Love Church, she has taken in babies born to drug addicted mothers and become their stand-in mother showering them with love and guidance. Over the years, she has taken in and worked with 400 children. She has also taken in other foster children and homeless people and created a community garden which benefits the neighborhood. She is deeply loved in her community for her generosity and kindness.

Sister Jean Ellman S.S.D.N. has an incredible generous heart and is a tower of faith and stability in challenging neighborhoods. She has shared her gifts through the years as a teacher, principal and minister all in the Hispanic community. In 1996 Notre Dame Middle School (school for Latina youth) opened with Sister Jean’s help. She taught at the school and then became principal in 2008. She works to know each child and each child’s family personally. She observes families and she meets needs as she sees them: warm clothes, food, advice, spiritual guidance, encouragement—whatever will bless the family and empower students. In her service to others, she also models faith, wisdom, and compassion.

Charles Reese is the Program Director for the Milwaukee chapter of the I Have A Dream (IHAD) Program at the Clarke Street School. Charles works hand-in-hand with first and second graders to ensure they will continue from elementary school to college with financial assistance from IHAD. He offers year-round education assistance as well as support to overcome non-educational barriers. IHAD utilizes a holistic approach to address the need for increased educational opportunities for central city youth. He is persistent to see the ultimate goal of the program fulfilled: college education for the children with financial gaps funded by IHAD.

Raymond Rivera grew up in the Riverwest area watching many of his friends and family become heavily involved in gangs and drug activity. He however focused his energies into martial arts and sports which has allowed him to help many young people find a safe and healthy way to relieve stress. He currently works as the Youth Development Specialists for the United Community Center. He serves as a wonderful role model for young people. He also runs a faith-based drug and alcohol prevention program on the Southside called Life Changers.

Raymond Robakowski is a city of Milwaukee police officer, a loving husband and father and proud grandfather. For most of his career in law enforcement Ray’s views were traditional, but as the Community Liaison office at MPD District 5 he has grown to embrace community policing. He is an officer who interprets the law by the book, but has the ability to make it fit the culture of the community. Ray knows all the players in the neighborhoods: the gang-bangers, the business owners, scores of residents, the block clubs, community-based organizations, stakeholders, and leaders. He has been so successful in building these relationships that community residents will call Ray on his cell phone and share information with him or ask him for help. As a police officer, he has certainly witnessed the underside of humanity, but he is still able to approach the daily challenges of his profession with optimism and hope.

Jacqueline Spence is a full-time MPS teacher. She has gone above and beyond the work as a teacher by doing community work through the Running Rebels Organization. Through her work with this organization, she created a reading program that helps students read as well as confront some of their issues including bullying, violence and relationships. She has also developed literature to help parents navigate the sometimes confusing jargon surrounding the educational system. including definitions and explanations of acronyms. Her upbeat demeanor, diligent work and humility display that her goals are centered on the success of the children.

Bradley Thurman is married and the proud father of three boys. After graduating from UW-Oshkosh he served as a Milwaukee firefighter for sixteen years, rising to the rank of Lieutenant. In 1995 he started a second career as an entrepreneur and businessman. Bradley is well respected in the business community and is known to assist and collaborate with other local businesses, even competitors of his. For the past 25 years, he has been a staunch supporter and volunteer for the Becham/Stapleton Little League baseball program in Milwaukee. Bradley has served as a coach for many years, worked in fund development and now is the player agent and all-around handyman and good guy. He also has generously, without compensation, given our RJI Safe Streets north side coordinator, Ron Johnson, an office and meeting space for his work with the community.

Lori Vance founded Express Yourself Milwaukee (EYM), a nonprofit organization to help young people realize their inner talents and rise above their daily struggles through the power of art. Lori believes that every child, no matter the pain and adversity he or she faces each day, has endless potential to grow, transform and prosper and that art provides an outlet to these children for self-expression, self-identification and self- improvement. Each year Lori brings together about 700 students with lots of baggage—learning, behavioral, emotional, or psychological disadvantages, and home lives marred by violence, poverty, incarceration, and drug addiction. But once they arrive at EYM, Lori immerses her students in various artistic mediums, including music, drama, dance, visual, and performance art. With the help of guest artists, including performers from Stomp, Lori’s students work together towards a grand, culminating, end-of year performance.

(Editor’s note:  The photograph accompanying this post was found here.)

Anyway, if you followed those posts with any interest, or if you are generally interested in the experience of refugees, then you may want to review the recently-released report from The Advocates for Human Rights, entitled A House with Two Rooms: The Final Report of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Liberia Diaspora Project.  (Confession: as previously disclosed, I worked for the Advocates during and after law school, and I think it’s a terrific organization.)

A House with Two Rooms reports the findings of the Diaspora Project portion of the TRC’s work, which collected information about the experiences of the Liberian diaspora during the Liberian wars, during their flight from Liberia, and in the countries in which they resettled.  Amazon summarizes it this way:

From 1979 to 2003, more than 1.5 million Liberians were forced from their homes to escape civil conflict. Hundreds of thousands became refugees and many eventually made their way to countries of resettlement including the United States. Most of their stories have never been told. This report on the experience of the Liberian diaspora, entitled A House with Two Rooms, documents the experience of human rights abuses and violations of international humanitarian law that forced Liberians to leave the country. It is based on an analysis of more than 1600 statements, fact-finding interviews, and witness testimony at public hearings held in the U.S. The report also tells the story of the “triple trauma” experienced by members of the diaspora during their flight through Liberia and across international borders, while living in refugee camps in West Africa, and in resettlement in the U.S. and U.K.

I reviewed the Executive Summary and some of the interior chapters.  I am a little ashamed that I can’t stand to read much more of it right now, because it reminds me too much of what I heard from Liberian refugees during the period in the late 1990’s when I worked with refugees. The atrocities of the wars in Liberia were beyond what I ever imagined human beings could do to each other, until I heard it for myself. If you care to read a representative story, here is one from the Executive Summary, at pages 10-11.  (Or, just take my word for it that it’s terrible, and skip over the block quote.)

At the initial stages of the war, I moved to Ninth Street in Sinkor, Monrovia… The children were outside cleaning the yard. Suddenly they ran inside and said that they saw armed men coming. Moments later, Taylor’s men busted in. One of them said, “This is the dog I’m looking for.” He told us to come outside. Myself, my ten children, and my wife obeyed. The NPFL [commander] knew me…He had run against me in an election…before the war. He said to me, “You cheated me during the election, but now I am in power. I will teach you a lesson you will never forget.”

He told his NPFL boys to take my eldest daughter into the house. She was thirteen years old. They dragged her inside and dragged me in after her. [The commander] raped my daughter in front of me. My father (my daughter’s grandfather) was still in the house. He rushed at the NPFL men, trying to stop the rape. One of the men – I don’t know his name – shot and killed my [father] right there. [The commander] then brought me and my daughter back outside. He said, “I’m going to show you what I came here for.” He beat the children with the butt of his gun. He made two of my sons, who were seventeen and twenty, drink dirty water with the urine of one of the NPFL men in it. When the twenty year old refused, he shot him in the foot. [The commander] stabbed my other son, who was eighteen, in the elbow with his bayonet.

He then began to beat my wife. He told her to lay on her back and stare at the sun. [The commander] said, “You will eat your husband’s heart very soon.” He took the daughter who had been raped. [The commander] held her and said, “I want you to know how you all will die.” He ordered one of his men to cut off my daughter’s head. She was beheaded in front of our eyes. They dragged me over to lay beside her body. [The commander] said, “You will be the next one.”

Then I heard heavy shooting. ECOMOG was coming. The NPFL scattered. Before [the commander] left, he made a remark. He said, “Anywhere in Liberia I meet you or your family, I will kill you.”

I do not know how human beings like the man who lived through that experience go on with their lives, but thousands of them do, thousands of them right here in the United States.  When I was practicing refugee law and hearing these stories, I was focused on how to help each individual, and didn’t take much time to think of the larger picture of how the refugee and asylum law systems function (or do not).

Since I began teaching refugee law here at Marquette, I became more aware of the strange gulf (strange to me, anyway) between the fields of transitional justice, which, as I understand it, seeks to help societies that are in the process of recovering from or transforming after widespread human rights abuses, and refugee law, which seeks to provide refuge from those fleeing the abuses as they occur.

It is striking that, as far as I know, this Diaspora Project is the first time that a Truth and Reconciliation Commission has sought, methodically and purposefully, on such a large scale, to obtain information from the ones who fled the horrific violence and resettled elsewhere.

It seems to me that such interviewing of refugees should be a standard part of providing for their needs and giving them refuge.  And that it should be done at the time they are fleeing, not (or at least, not solely) years afterwards.  Not only because having their stories heard and believed is part of what they need, for healing, but because the evidence they could provide would be ammunition for investigating and, perhaps, stopping the human rights abuses as they occur, or even preventing them.

If you want to know more about the stories of the incredibly resilient, inspirational Liberian diaspora, a House with Two Rooms is available for purchase on Amazon or from the Advocates by mail.  It is also available for free download (in sections) on the Advocates’ website.

The Hurtado students then met individually with professors on their research topics.  

(Professor Paul Secunda met with Fernanda Gajardo on labor law; Professor Alan Madry met with Andrea Cerda on eminent domain; Professor Louise Cainker met with Diego Aguilar on multiculturalism).  According to Professor Secunda,  “It was a wonderful meeting with Fernanda on labor and employment law. It went so well that we are meeting again at 11 am today.”  The Hurtado students informed me the interviews were key to their research agendas.

At lunch, while the Hurtado faculty joined with members of our own faculty at the Lunda room, the students attended a brown bag with MULS students, an event co-sponsored by the Labor & Employment Law Society.   Present were leaders from various MULS student groups, including the Student Bar Association, Hispanic Students Law Association, Public Interest Law Society, Hablando del Derecho, American Constitutional Society for Law and Public Policy, and Saint Thomas More Society.   In Eisenberg Hall, they sat around the large tables and introduced themselves. Professor Paul Secunda observed, “It went really well. Lots of laughing and camaraderie.  The students stood up and introduced themselves and talked of their various organizations. Although we had translators, what was great was that many of our student leaders used their Spanish to introduce themselves.”

In the afternoon, we were joined by Distinguished Professor and Director of the MULS Restorative Justice Initiative, Janine Geske and headed to the South Side of Milwaukee in an MU athletic van.  At the Kosciusko Community Center, we met with Paulina de Haan, co-coordinator of the Safe Streets Program, who had convened a circle of community members:  parole officers, offenders who recently finished their prison terms, and policemen.    Professor Geske first gave an overview of the theory of circles, which emphasizes the idea that we all belong to the same community and that alternative processes can help reconcile differences.  Ms. de Haan then instructed us that  we could only talk when he held the “talking piece” (a carved stone).  This practice helped us learn how to listen when we were without the piece.    All of us shared our definition of community; the experience of being Latino in the United States and in Chile (and, in my case, of living in both cultures); and finally how crime and violence have impacted our own lives.  The students were completely stunned to watch the two policemen sit next to the offenders, and impressed by the approachable and caring demeanor of the law enforcement agents.  Chilean Professor Pablo Contreras explained, “Our police are not like that.”   The experience greatly affected the delegation, which has begun to contemplate ways of bringing the techniques to its own country.

In the evening, Professor Jay Grenig hosted the delegation in his home in Delafield, stuffing us with his home-cooked, Wisconsin-style BBQ and sharing local eating delights like brats and Wisconsin cheese.   Also in attendance were MULS students, who presented a gift to the Hurtado delegation of a framed photo of our namesake Pere Marquette.   As Professor Grenig remarked, “It was one of the liveliest parties at our house.”  Indeed, the Chileans and the Americans enjoyed conversations in Spanish and English as they munched on homemade foods.  The highlight was making sundaes with Professor Grenig’s homemade ice cream.

First, let me set the stage. 

We are told to dress “prison appropriate” which means no metal anywhere (other than your shoes) unless you want to take off that particular piece of clothing or undergarment to run it through the metal detector.  We (Janine; a few law students; community members interested in RJ, including someone from LA interested in adopting this program for California; and me) go through five sets of bars that open only when the one behind you closes.  The circle is held in the prison classroom, where we sit in a large circle of chairs – prisoners interspersed with staff and outsiders.  Although we can see their full names on their name tents, we use first names and flip our security-issued name tags around so no one can read the full name.  It’s a little daunting, so even more powerful, as the day moves forward.

I went on the second day of the RJ program.  On the first day, the prisoners are broken into groups, and each group charts the ripple effects of a single crime, an armed robbery at a mall.  From the flipcharts posted around the room, I can see the groups have done an impressive job.  A single theft not only affects the victim and the store, but the victim’s family, customers and other workers at the store, members of the broader community who might shop at the mall, the suppliers, and so on.  Today, on the second day, we hear from two victim-survivors in the morning.  The first is a the widow of a police officer killed at a domestic violence shelter, taking a bullet for a 15-year-old who had been defending his mother against her abuser.  She speaks in excrutiating detail: hearing the sirens, being woken to go to the hospital, hearing her sneakers squeak with his blood, seeing the line of blue uniformed officers lining the hospital hallway, telling her two small children.  It is impossibly hard to hear this and I wonder what the prisoners think.  The next woman who speaks lost her son to a drunk driver.  (She hates that phrasing “lost.” It is much too passive.   As she noted, she didn’t “lose” her son – she knows exactly where he is.  I should say he was murdered.)  Again, we learn the details of his life: a warm, vibrant college senior who, in the year between high school and college, biked with three friends around the entire perimeter of the continental U.S.  He was biking when he was killed, just a few days before his last college exam.

And then we break for lunch.  As Janine warned the inmates, lunch might be difficult.  They will be thinking about what they have heard.  We get to leave for lunch and the sunlight is a welcomed intrusion.

When we return, it is time to go around the circle and hear from the men.  The statements are amazing – as Janine tells me, many of these men will never be released from prison.  Their statements do not go to the parole board, and they often wouldn’t help them anyway.  Almost all of them start by thanking the women for speaking, many of them are crying and talk about their own loss and vicitimization as part of what got them to prison in the first place.  Here is a sampling:

“I want to apologize to you.  I belong here and you have helped me understand the hurt that I have caused.” 

“I will take your story and try to change the world for good.” 

“I used to think that victimizing someone after you have been a victim is power.  But this is real power, the power to help others, the power to help change.” 

“I used to view myself as the victim and blame others.  I never saw the ripple effect.” 

“I was hurt so I wanted to hurt others.” 

“Males are born but men are made – and this is one of the starting points.”

At the end of the afternoon, the prisoners heard from one more victim, the sister of a man imprisoned for life for murder, who just graduated law school at Marquette.  And the men heard about a different ripple effect, on their families and loved ones, who lost their brother or son in the crime they committed.  

Unfortunately, I could not go for the third day, where the prisoners talk again about what they have heard and then look forward to what they can do with what they have learned.  The warden at Green Bay loves this program: In-prison behavior from these prisoners improves while they are there and the likelihood of repeat offending once they do get out goes down.

Let me close with what I was thinking on my drive home:  First, I felt blessed that I was just a visitor – not a victim, not a relative, not directly touched by any crime.  Second, I was amazed to see what restorative justice and dispute resolution can do to individuals even in the worst circumstances.  And finally, I was so proud that this program is supported by Marquette and part of our dispute resolution curriculum.  I know it has a dramatic impact on our students as they go out into the world and practice law.  They, too, will learn the ripple effect of their actions – good and bad – and what good they can do as lawyers in the broader community.

Cross posted at Indisputably.

We certainly could see much of the harm unfold on the news and talk shows. Professor Gates, a highly respected scholar, gets arrested in his own home by a white officer. He (and many others) believes he has been treated unfairly because of his race. The officer, who with his fellow officers, including an African-American, believes he was doing his job because he is investigating a possible home invasion and has a man, in his opinion, who is uncooperative and verbally abusive. And we have a highly respected president, who usually is extremely careful with his words, announce that despite the fact that he does not know all the facts, that the police acted “stupidly.” Then we went on to learn that Lucia Whalen, who called in the suspicious behavior at Dr. Gates’ home, is now receiving death threats and being called racist despite the fact that she never volunteered anything about race to the 911 operator. We can then imagine the harm to the Cambridge police department, the African-American community in the Boston area, the family members of everyone involved and then of course the harm to the thousands and thousands of others who experience the renewed pain of some bad police/community member relations all over this country. We have some political pundits characterizing all police as men and women who routinely engage in racial profiling (never acknowledging that never does an entire profession engage in bad behavior so that the “good cops” are thrown into the same description as the “discriminating cops.”) Those kinds of comments not only demoralize police departments but also devastate family members of law enforcement officers. We have once again publicly displayed acts of racism (a Boston officer writing a letter describing Professor Gates as “banana-eating jungle monkey”). We know that the wounds of racism and profiling in this country are justifiably deep and painful. And we have a president, who is trying to focus on our national health care crisis, in part because of his own words, being embroiled in these events. There is not a question in my mind that this was an opportunity for all of us to watch and learn a better way to move forward other than our continuous name calling.

Restorative justice practices involve people who have been harmed having the opportunity to be heard by those they believe played a role in harming them. In our MULS restorative justice program, we routinely have victims, or family members of victims of crimes of severe violence request a meeting with the perpetrators (including murderers, rapists, and robbers) so that they can tell them, across a table, how deeply they have been harmed by what the other person did. Unlike the White House meeting, these dialogues can often take up much of a day. A victim/survivor can describe the pain that was caused and the “ripple effect” of the other’s actions. The offender learns the depth and breadth of impact of his or her actions on a myriad of people. The dialogue then often continues so that the victim can ask the offender about his or her life and how it is that this person came to harm him or her. What life experiences brought the offender to that moment? Most offenders apologize for their behavior. (We do not conduct these dialogues unless the offender admits at least some of the alleged criminal conduct.) Hearing about people’s life stories humanizes them and helps us understand (but not necessarily approve) of why others have acted in a certain way. From that place of understanding, we, as community, can better find ways to move forward in a positive way.

On a very regular basis, our MULS Safe Streets community coordinators, Ron Johnson and Paulina de Haan, conduct restorative justice talking circles in Milwaukee’s central city with victims, neighbors, police, offenders, prosecutors, church members, offenders and other community members. I have watched these groups of people weep as a Milwaukee police officer describes finding a two year little girl with a bullet hole in her forehead and quickly picking her up. He told all of us that the little girl took her last breath in his arms and that her death has haunted him since that moment. He looked at the others in the circle and said, “I never go to a call for a shooting without taking her with me.” I believe that there is no one who was there that day that still believes that “all police don’t care.” On another occasion, we had a gang member describe that when he was 7 he was sitting on the kitchen counter watching his mother prepare the Thanksgiving turkey. All of sudden tires were screeching and he heard the sound of gun shots. His mother threw him down onto the ground and then fell dead in front of him with three bullet holes in her back. He then was placed with family members in the Chicago projects where he grew up in violence. No one will ever condone what he has done, but after the circle a police officer went up to him and told him that he now had a better understanding of how he got there. We have seen officers actually go out and help serious offenders find employment after they have heard the stories in the circle.

Finally one older African American man told his story of calling the police about shooting on his street. He told them that he would be sitting on his porch in his white shirt waiting for them. When police arrived, the police pointed guns at him and told him to get up and then lay down on the ground. It took quite some time for them to acknowledge (without apology) that he was the person that had called for help. The police in that room truly got to hear what that horrible experience was like for that older man. That story telling and more important listening (and truly hearing) by others brings much healing and new understanding to everyone in the room and hopefully more sensitivity in the future. What happens during these dialogues or circles is that everyone present learns more about people’s experiences and perspectives. Invariably, people will see that in our humanness we are all much more alike than different. We all have had terrible experiences in our lives (obviously some much worse than others). People who hear those stories will often ask themselves, “what would I have done under those circumstances?” or “how would I feel about what I have done if I had lived that other person’s life?” From that understanding we can build human bridges of understanding that help “good and progress come from the bad.”

I do have some regrets about the way the White House handled this dialogue. I wish they had asked Lucia Whalen to join the discussion. She was an integral part of what happened and may be the only one who appears to have done everything right. Her voice should have also been heard at that meeting. She could have told them that each of their actions has led to more people calling her a racist and accusing her of causing national turmoil. Although her actions of calling 911 certainly set this series of events into action, she was just being a good citizen and reporting a potential problem in her neighborhood. She never volunteered the race of the men she saw and in fact when asked told the dispatcher that she was not sure of their ethnicity. It would have been good for these three men (including the president) to hear how their actions in all of this have made her life very difficult.

I also regret that the White House did not get a trained neutral restorative justice facilitator to shape the discussion. As good as the president is at bringing people together, he was not neutral in this incident. He was friends with Professor Gates and his words had certainly contributed to the harm from the events, particularly to the Cambridge Police Department. Although the image of the men sitting around the table in the White House garden was a good one, it would have been helpful for us in the greater community to learn more about what each of them learned from the discussion. Professor Gates and Sergeant Crowley have indicated that they will continue to talk. Hopefully they will bring in the community into that dialogue.

When it is all said and done, it does not really matter who drank what beer. It does not matter who wore what to the meeting. But hopefully we all will learn from this high profile meeting at a round table (like a circle) that when people have caused harm to each other by having made certain choices or are in serious conflict, it is important for everyone to slow down, ratchet down the level of anger, accusations and name calling…from “racist, to immoral to stupid to evil to without conscience” and actually create an environment where people can have a meaningful dialogue about what has happened, how everyone sees the situation and how they and all of us can work together in a positive way to prevent future harm. If we can do that, then we are good students learning from that proffered “teachable moment.”

A. Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr. and Jr.: A first generation poet; a second generation jurist. I was rooting around in the attic, sorting out books for donation to a local charity, and came across my husband’s grandmother’s 1952 edition of The Family Book of Best Loved Poems, which randomly flipped open to “The Last Leaf” by Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr. I read it and was reflective about the beautiful minds that manifested over the course of two lifetimes, father and son, one as a physician and poet and one as a jurist, each achieving excellence in their unique ways. 

The Last Leaf

I saw him once before,

As he passed by the door,

And again

The pavement stones resound,

As he totters o’er the ground

With his cane.

They say that in his prime,

Ere the pruning-knife of Time

Cut him down,

Not a better man was found

By the Crier on his round

Through the town.

But now he walks the streets,

And he looks at all he meets

Sad and wan,

And he shakes his feeble head,

That it seems as if he said,

“They are gone!”

The mossy marbles rest

On the lips that he has prest

In their bloom,

And the names he loved to hear

Have been carved for many a year

On the tomb.

My grandmamma has said–

Poor old lady, she is dead

Long ago–

That he had a Roman nose,

And his cheek was like a rose

In the snow;

But now his nose is thin,

And it rests upon his chin

Like a staff,

And a crook is in his back,

And a melancholy crack

In his laugh.

I know it is a sin

For me to sit and grin

At him here;

But the old three-cornered hat,

And the breeches, and all that,

Are so queer!

And if I should live to be

The last leaf upon the tree

In the spring,

Let them smile, as I do now,

At the old forsaken bough

Where I cling.

Two evenings later, the ABA Journal arrived in the mail and I found on its last page a picture from the Wisconsin Historical Society and an associated discussion of the overturning of the Holmes, Jr. court case of 1927, Buck v. Bell, which allowed state laws on forced sterilization to proliferate for a significant period of American history thereafter. For those who may not know, Buck v. Bell is the case from which we receive the oft-quoted phrase of Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. “three generations of imbeciles is enough.”

How curious that those words flowed from the pen of the son of the author of “The Last Leaf.” For background on Holmes, Sr. as a poet, I researched at ibiblio, and found the following reflection of Holmes himself on his poem to his publishers three decades later: “I have lasted long enough to serve as an illustration of my own poem. I am one of the very last of the leaves which still cling to the bough of life that budded in the spring of the nineteenth century. The days of my years are threescore and twenty, and I am almost half way up the steep incline which leads me toward the base of the new century so near to which I have already climbed.”

How can these seemingly opposing sides of a father and son be reconciled? By this I mean that one side of the younger Holmes appears to endorse a model of justice in Buck v. Bell that “weeds out” the bad seeds of humanity and gives the decision-making authority for making that determination to mortal beings in power. Contrast this with the poetic voice of Holmes, Sr., which reflects instead an acceptance of the process of aging, and an understanding that life encompasses new and old, wholeness and brokenness, mastery and infirmity, all within one being over the course of the years given to us, and all to be experienced without praise or blame, without judgment from self or from others.

To me, I think both men would have struggled with integrating these aspects as both being voices of wisdom and justice; left-brained legalists, and the right-brained poets, in the era in which they lived. The jurist Holmes lived at a time when black and white decision making was the embraced model of “enacting” justice. There was a right and a wrong. To create justice, eliminate the bad and embrace the good. According to the ABA Journal note, author George Hodak states that after Holmes’ opinion issued “over the next 15 years, a politically powerful American eugenics movement blossomed and, armed with the court’s acquiescence, pressed more than half the states to pass forced sterilization laws that grew increasingly broad in scope.”

Justice was not so much to be restored, as it was to be created, and this creation involved excluding and eliminating what was not desired, from being acknowledged in our pasts, existing in our present, or being embraced in our future. Hence, “three generations of imbeciles are enough.” This was truly an era where the symbol of the law was the scales of justice, dualism, black and white, good and bad, and right and wrong. I do think there was a time when this model of justice was delivered effectively and humanely, to the best of the abilities of generations of attorneys and justices and workers in our systems on behalf of justice. I think, however, our knowledge and awareness illustrate that the time for that paradigm is ending.

B. A new symbolism. The same symbol appeared repeated times to me in the past two weeks in subtle and overt ways. The symbol is a triangle surrounded by a circle. My research on it led me home to Marquette, interestingly enough, and to the logo of Marquette’s Restorative Justice Initiative, and a recent post about The Healing Circle, and the wonderful recent work that Professor Janine Geske references in her blog post, “Repairing the Harm from Clergy Sex Abuse.” She speaks of the use of the healing circle, and says, “These circles succeed in getting everyone present to deeply listen to each other and provide a safe environment in which to speak from the heart. I have participated in hundreds of circles through the years and still am amazed at what I learn from people through this process.” As Archbishop Dolan has often remarked in his words about the struggle of the church to heal from this particular crisis, there will be no true healing without acknowledging the harm that has been done, and it is inappropriate and counter-productive to attempt to “get over it” in any manner that is dismissive and lacking in true respect.

If justice and healing are to be embraced as one and the same, as I believe they are, healing must come with the courage to bear the knowledge of the harms of the past. That knowledge, and those details, must be given a voice in that safe space of sharing, the circle. What is not known, not spoken, left unvoiced and buried, cannot be forgiven, and what is not forgiven cannot be made whole. Only through wholeness can the courage and power for positive change come for the sustainable future. This is a shift in the way justice is seen. It is not black and white, as I think it was expected to be in the generation and the Supreme Court of Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. I also believe we do not create justice, we restore it, and we restore it because “justice” is not a man-made concept. Scales are man-made; circles, in contrast, are all around us in nature.

We can never eliminate the shadow of injustice. We can only change the composition of the elements in the circles of our communities, our families, and ourselves, so that the momentum for justice, peace, honor, integrity, and healing or restoration outweighs the recognition of and dwelling within past harms. In my mind, there is no coincidence that symbols for recycling and sustainable energy share the visual elements of the triangle within the circle, the trinity.  Are we moving, as a culture, from a view of the scales of justice to the circle of justice? I think we are.

C. Poetry and Restorative Justice; a golden horse and a little girl.

Professor Jessica Slavin has written a wonderful post on lawyers and poets, in which she references a website that takes poet/lawyers into even greater depth: Professor Elkins’ “Strangers to Us All.”

There is much connection between the poetic voice generally and the Healing Circle dynamic. In fact, current training on peacemaking circles uses poetry as an entry to the peacemaking process. For instance, an upcoming training at the Canadian School for Peacemaking in Winnipeg has a course called Poets, Prophets, and the Music of Social Justice, exploring the relationship between worship and social justice (the link to that training is on Marquette’s Restorative Justice Initiative homepage).

Now more than ever, poets make a contribution to the evolution of a new paradigm of justice for the next generation. Poets speak with the voice of elegy, the voice of history and the soul of memory. The healing of our broken systems of justice, based on old hierarchies and power systems of dominance and duality, is being replaced by circles of healing, in which the shadows of the past are recognized and given the space of safety in which they can be truly healed, for the long term. There is no coincidence that restorative justice is blossoming in our law schools and training for the future generation of peace-bringers, and further no coincidence that the role of poetry and the recognition of poetic voice is often a key element of training for “peacemaking circles” and circles of healing that have the goal of restoring balance to broken communities, families, and individuals. I would like the think that both of the Holmes’, the poet and the jurist, would have seen this as a positive evolution.

My third experience comes from my own right-brained writing. I sometimes write some poetry, when emotion moves me to a place where the page needs more than professional syntax to hear what my heart says needs to be said. I volunteer in an equestrian therapy program for children with physical, cognitive, and emotional challenges. Some of the children in our program have significant histories of abuse. Healing happens, with the help of a horse. My bearing witness to that is sometimes why I think I am there, and so I occasionally write. This poem completed my own triad of recent reflections in a way that I decided to include it here.

Karen’s Shirt

Her T-shirt was white, with a black script heart

Centered on her heart, on her

Slim frame, lean brown arms, bony shoulders,

The lean and strange grace of youth,

More motion and spirit than flesh and bone to cover-

The shirt white, with green and blue hearts offsetting,

More script filling up the page of her body.

Golden glitter with the black curls of the words

Her voice, absent.

Her eyes huge and hazel.

They too speak without words.

Our synchronicity is in the rhythm of knowing when

It is time to walk, to trot; and today we just walk, mostly, Breathe out, breathe in,

The swallows slice through the air,

The swish of tail, the quick truth of the breeze-

Memory remains, but there is also just now.

The dust in the arena blows in whorls, like roses round.

We walk, I at her side on the ground, silent as well.

Gold-speckled dust, golden horse,

A glisten of horse sweat, smell of honey.

A glint of sun upon us

As we round the barrel at a walk at the

Far end, looking out the open west door of the barn,

The sun and the wind unify our motion,

Eden awash on us for a moment.

Lit script on her body-

“I Love Justice” on a white T-shirt in black gold glitter script,

Repeated over and over,

Written on the Rosetta stone of her heart.

The moment of the sun and the Russian olive blossom breath of wind-

We three; horse, rider, and companion,

We walk in the shadow and in the expectation

That we ride through a cycle In which we will remember the light and the breath of God’s world

Long after we have passed beyond the shadow

Which we have carried, and

Through which we pass in memoriam;

Circling on a horse around blue barrels

For honor, for memory, for wholeness

And this ordinary holiness

Ever after.

A few years ago, I started thinking about how the Catholic Church, as a community of people, really needed to look  from different perspectives at the deep-seated and far-ranging effect of the sex abuse scandal. So the RJI, with the assistance of Amy Peterson, Victim Assistance Coordinator of the Milwaukee Archdiocese, began the project of gathering people for a circle. 

The circle included clergy-abuse survivors and a variety of other kinds of people: then-Archbishop of Milwaukee Timothy Dolan (recently installed as the New York Archbishop), parish staff, an offending priest, two parish priests, a woman who left the church over the scandal, and another parishioner whose children are no longer Catholic.  All the participants knew that the secondary purpose of the healing circle was to create a documentary, The Healing Circle (http://www.healingcirclegroup.com ), that would promote dialogue in churches (all denominations), victims’ groups, seminaries, and other community groups about sexual abuse of children by trusted adults.  I wanted people to see and listen to the victims to better understand why, despite some people’s beliefs, they can’t “just get over it.”  I also wanted the viewers to recognize that the institutional response to the abuse had in of itself also created great harm. The only way I believe that the Church will heal from the incredible harm that has occurred is for its members and hierarchy to recognize the ripple effect and to discuss openly how everyone can work together toward repairing the harm.

Last month, we finally completed the The Healing Circle project, which brings the viewer into the restorative justice circle along with some of the actual participants. who included a mother whose son committed suicide after clergy abuse and a priest who was fondled in seminary.  Archbishop Dolan introduces the film and offers a prayer for healing. The RJI has offered a number of showings of the film and it has received great reviews. Diane Knight, the Chair-Elect of the National Review Board of the Bishop’s Conference, has recommended the film

to anyone who has an interest in gaining greater understanding of the depth and breadth of the impact of the clergy abuse crisis. The individual stories in this documentary are compelling, and they are a powerful springboard for meaningful discussion that can extend the healing process in all of us.

Attorney Audrey Skwierawski, Coordinator of the Milwaukee Commission on Domestic Violence and Sexual Assault, told us that

The Healing Circle is an intense and powerful film. You will walk away from the film with a new and profound appreciation for the damage done when those in positions of trust violate that trust through sexual abuse. The real power in the film is the recognition of the harm done not just to the victims and their immediate families, but the ripple effects of that abuse for all those who literally put their faith in the offender and the system the offender represents.

This project has reinforced my belief of the importance of training our future lawyers to understand that their professional role as leaders includes helping people to recognize the harm that occurs in people’s lives and to find ways to give them a voice that will be heard by others. This film serves as a catalyst for all of us to continue to recognize how harmful conduct can ripple through many people and to find ways to work toward healing and protecting others in the future.

Specialized drug treatment courts have become a popular alternative to more punitive approaches to the “war on drugs,” with nearly 2,000 such courts now established across the United States. One source of their appeal is the belief that they will ameliorate the dramatic racial disparities in the nation’s prison population – disparities that result in large measure from the long sentences handed out for some drug crimes in conventional criminal courts. However, experience has shown that drug courts are not a “do-no-harm” innovation. Drug courts can produce both winners and losers when compared to conventional court processing, and there are good reasons to suspect that black defendants are considerably less likely to benefit from the implementation of a drug court than white defendants. As a result, drug courts may actually exacerbate, rather than ameliorate, racial disparities in the incarceration rate for drug crimes. Thus, the concerns of inner-city minority communities with the war on drugs may be better addressed through a different sort of innovation: a specialized restorative justice program for drug offenders. Although treatment may be part of such a program, the real centerpiece is the “community conferencing” process, which involves mediated dialogue and collective problem-solving involving drug offenders and community representatives. Where the drug treatment court gives a dominant role to criminal justice and therapeutic professionals, the community conferencing approach empowers lay community representatives, and is thereby capable of addressing some of the social capital deficits that plague inner-city minority communities with high crime and incarceration rates.

The article is forthcoming in the Stanford Law & Policy Review.

Speaking on a panel last week about what punishment he would like to see for Mr. Madoff, Mr. Wiesel said,

I would like him to be in a solitary cell with only a screen, and on that screen for at least five years of his life, every day and every night, there should be pictures of his victims, one after the other after the other, all the time a voice saying, “Look what you have done to this old lady, look what you have done to that child, look what you have done,” nothing else.

Professor Jonathan Hyman, in forwarding this lovely snippet to me, noted that this sounds a lot like part of a Restorative Justice process. I agree. Since Madoff will never be able to pay his victims back or help them put their lives back together, perhaps the best punishment is to be reminded daily of how many lives he ruined.

Cross posted at Indisputably.

The community involvement piece seems to me an especially welcome development.  As I discuss in a forthcoming article in the Standford Law & Policy Review, when police and prosecutors come down hard on drug offenders in poor, minority neighborhoods, it is important that their actions are seen as having legitimacy in those neighborhoods, rather than being perceived as arbitrary or racially discriminatory.  Opportunities for neighborhood residents to voice their opinions and collaborate with law enforcement in responding to crime can help build the perceived legitimacy that is necessary for long-term gains in crime reduction.