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Preface: This is a paper I wrote for my Critical Race Theory class in which I analyze Bryan Stevenson’s arguments in his compelling book Just Mercy. Please pick up his book to learn about and empathize with plight of children who are being incarcerated, killed, and destroyed everyday within our flawed criminal justice system. My professor enjoyed this, so I feel like that means it’s readable. Thoughtful comments encouraged. When finished, tell me what plans you have to create positive change.
Love Always,
An aspiring stone-catcher
The Stone-Catchers
Bryan Stevenson’s Just Mercy humbly narrates the stories of several individuals who are caught within the noxious web of the United States’ criminal justice system. Though the heart-wrenching story about Walter McMillian, an innocent man who the court unjustly sentences to death, frames the text, several chapters tell the stories of individuals who are actually guilty. Even though these people are not innocent, Stevenson argues that they are still in need of mercy rather than the cruel and unusual punishment they so frequently receive. Stevenson shares personalized stories of the convicted, critiques the form of punishments given, and lastly reminds readers that everyone, at some point, needs mitigation. Stevenson further demonstrates that mercy is required in order to achieve true reform, particularly in the cases of adolescents. By building his argument in these ways, Stevenson hopes to create “stonecatchers,” people who maintain their humanity by continuously offering mercy instead of contributing to the despair and torture of other human beings.
Within this first-person narrative, Stevenson intentionally reinforces that the people within his book, whether they are guilty or not, are indeed human beings just like everyone else. Stevenson does this because many individuals have little sympathy for people who the court convicts of crimes. An example of this lack of sympathy occurs when Walter McMillian’s fellow occupants at a nursing home argue that McMillian has no right to be in the home. A nurse explains, “a lot of people here think that once you go to prison, whether you belong there or not, you become a dangerous person, and they want to have nothing to do with you” (Stevenson 280). This behavior toward McMillian represents society’s general feelings about prisoners and the prisoner’s existential position in society. Apart from overt prejudice, though, the lack of sympathy for the convicted reveals itself through popular beliefs in American culture. Not only do people support the death penalty and life-sentences for children, people also maintain the “three strikes you’re out” ideology. These things emphasize that citizens who claim to obey the law feel that convicted individuals do not deserve forgiveness or help.
A good portion of the demographic to receive this type of prejudice, interestingly, is women and children. Stevenson expounds, “In the last twenty years, we’ve created a new class of ‘untouchables’ in American society, made up of our most vulnerable mothers and their children” (Stevenson 237). As a result of this, Stevenson takes care to personalize the stories of the men, women, and children caught within the snares of the justice system. He does this particularly for the children because “…it was clear that these shocking and senseless crimes couldn’t be evaluated honestly without understanding the lives these children had been forced to endure” (267). Stevenson, here, highlights that some of the convicted children are truly guilty of committing violent crimes. Stevenson continues to concede, however, that it is yet another crime to determine what the children’s punishment should be without taking into account the difficult lives these children might have or any type of behavior-affecting mental illness that might also be plaguing these children.
In the chapter “Surely Doomed,” Stevenson quotes an earnest grandmother who pleads, “He’s just a little boy” (Stevenson 115). So begins the narrative of Charlie, a fourteen-year-old who faces life imprisonment without parole for killing his mother’s abusive boyfriend George. Before Stevenson launches into the details of the case, he takes care to describe Charlie to the readers. Stevenson writes, “He [Charlie] weighed less than 100 pounds and was just five feet tall. He didn’t have any juvenile criminal history…He was a good student” (117). By including these details,
Stevenson depicts a boy with whom the readers may have sympathy for, and he expertly weaves reminders of Charlie’s humanity throughout the re-telling of Charlie’s story.
Throughout the story, Stevenson writes contextual details such as the fact that the relationship between George and Charlie’s mother is abusive. Stevenson also paints a picture of the loving bond between Charlie and his mother and goes on to detail how Charlie experiences nosebleeds when he’s troubled or scared. Stevenson tells readers that Charlie’s nose even bled at the time of the incident. Through these narrative devices, Stevenson contextualizes Charlie’s story and describes Charlie as a multi-dimensional “character” with a personality, a history, and complicated motivations.
The prosecutor and judge disregard Charlie’s back-story, however, and they decide to try Charlie as an adult (120). The court subsequently sends Charlie to a county jail for adults where other inmates beat and sexually assault Charlie. Were it not for the help of Stevenson, it is reasonable to believe that Charlie would have been left in the adult jail and then later sent to an adult prison where he would continue to be the victim of assault. Stevenson’s intervention in the case, however, results in the case being transferred to juvenile court, and the shooting “was adjudicated as a juvenile offense” (124). Charlie’s story ends relatively optimistically, and the court releases him. Now free, Charlie reunites with his mom and other loved ones. This ending, though, is possible because Charlie’s fate is not simply left in the hands of the flawed criminal justice system.
Stevenson works a case for another person that the court sentences to life in prison for a crime she commits when she is fourteen. Like Charlie, Trina Garnett’s extenuating circumstances are not taken into account prior to sentencing. Although there are clear signs of Trina’s intellectual disabilities, the court fails to take this into account during sentencing because Garnett’s negligent attorney does not file the necessary motions required to convince the court that Trina is disabled. As a result of this negligence, Trina is “condemned to die in prison” for accidentally causing a fire that results in the death of two young boys (Stevenson 150). Trina’s story becomes more tragic as readers also learn that a correctional officer rapes and impregnates Trina at the age of sixteen. As a result of the trauma of her childhood and the trauma that occurs in the adult prison, Stevenson notes that Trina’s mental health grew worse, and the trauma also affects her physically. “Over the years…her body began to spasm and quiver uncontrollably, until she required a cane and then a wheelchair…by the time she was thirty, prison doctors diagnosed her with multiple sclerosis, intellectual disability, and mental illness related to trauma” (151). Even with Stevenson and his nonprofit, legal organization, Equal Justice Initiative (EJI), Trina continues to serve for her adolescent crime.
Trina’s story is not unique, and at the time that Stevenson pens these pages, one state court alone sentences “nearly five hundred people in Pennsylvania to mandatory life imprisonment without parole” (151). All of these individuals serve sentences for crimes they commit when they are children between the ages of thirteen and seventeen. Stevenson does not concede that the courts should deem these children innocent simply because of their age. He does, however, emphasize that these types of sentences are unusually cruel in light of the extenuating circumstances of these children. In addition, the courts convict these people for crimes that are done when the individual’s brains are not even fully developed.
As a result of the scientific research that scientist do in relation to children and their brains, Stevenson proposes that the courts should not try children as adults because they do not actually have the capability to make rational decisions all of the time. Stevenson references the scientific evidence in the chapter “Cruel and Unusual.” The scientific evidence reveals that the “maturational process that is gradual, unfolds over the course of adolescence, and permits more advanced self-regulation and impulse control” (208). Though their actions should definitely be punished, Stevenson uses this scientific information to urge the courts and society to recognize that children are ill-equipped to make rational decisions all of the time. He goes on, “When these basic deficits that burden all children are combined with the environments that some poor children experience…adolescence can leave kids vulnerable to the sort of extremely poor decision making that results in tragic violence” (269). Stevenson does not make excuses for these children who are culpable of violent crimes. He does, however, explain why these children should be shown mercy and compassion. After all, if society creates punishments in order to encourage citizens to “play by the rules,” children must be given actual opportunities and treatment that encourages change rather than thwarts it.
Along these lines, Stevenson argues that the death penalty and life-imprisonment does very little to curb unwanted behavior or provide needed treatment. Many times, in fact, incarcerated prisoners experience even more trauma in prison than what they experience in their childhood prior to incarceration. Stevenson details that traumatic experiences in prison can exacerbate an illness or else induce some other stress-related ailment within the prisoner. Rape and a physical disability, for instance, punctuate the story of Joe Sullivan, a thirteen-year-old who the court sentences to life imprisonment without parole. Readers learn that Joe develops multiple sclerosis, which doctors conclude, “might have been triggered by trauma in prison” (Stevenson 259). Through his examples, Stevenson emphasizes that the stories of Trina, Charlie, and Joe are illustrative and not exhaustive. These people are just the ones lucky enough to be brought to the attention of Stevenson and EJI.
Once Stevenson learns and investigates these personal stories, one of his missions at EJI is to get the courts to recognize that mandatory life sentences and death penalties for children are cruel and unusual forms of punishment. Stevenson builds his persuasive argument by highlighting the culture’s logic. Stevenson emphasizes “the incongruity of not allowing children to smoke, drink, vote…while simultaneously treating some of the most at-risk, neglected, and impaired children exactly the same as full-grown adults in the criminal justice system”(270). This incongruity should cause individuals to ask themselves why society considers others to be “children” in certain scenarios but suddenly those children turn into adults when a crime occurs. Stevenson also does not hesitate to point out that the courts disproportionally mandate harsh sentences for the brown and black children from low-income families (272). The sentences, then, are the same as sentences for grown men and women. Depending on the skin tone and income level of the children, moreover, the sentences vary drastically. With this in mind, the sentences that Trina, Charlie, and Joe receive are especially harsh because their richer, whiter counterparts most likely would not receive the same sentences.
As though readers and the courts need more convincing, Stevenson asserts that harsh sentences jeopardize the humanity of the “law-abiding citizens” who are not serving time for crimes. Stevenson interrogates the notion of the death penalty when he wonders why society kills a man or woman who kills but does not sexually assault a man or woman who sexually assaults. Stevenson also recalls the way he feels after he watches an execution take place. He writes, “I couldn’t stop thinking that we don’t spend much time contemplating the details of what killing someone actually involves” (Stevenson 91). Stevenson, here, implies that supporting the death penalty takes an unperceived toll on the mental well-being of everyone involved; victims of crimes are included in this implication.
Also related, an older women who Stevenson finds outside of a courthouse states, “This is a place full of pain, so people need plenty of help around here” (Stevenson 307). It might be easy to assume that the woman speaks of the individuals who are victims of various crimes. However, the woman alludes to both the victims and the culprits, and she therefore implies that the suffering of the culprits matters, too. The woman continues, “Those judges throwing people away like they’re not even human, people shooting each other, hurting each other like they don’t care” (308). She recognizes that culprits, victims, and even the justice system commit great wrongs. Society paints culprits as being “super-predators” who are incapable of having empathy or compassion for the people around them (159). The old woman who stands outside of the courthouse and Stevenson, however, contend that these culprits are not super-predators, but rather, culprits are human beings who are in need of mercy and compassion.
Mercy and compassion, however, don’t automatically flow from individuals because those individuals are such good Samaritans. Stevenson posits that mercy and compassion grow when individuals recognize the shared cord of humanity that exists between “non-guilty” individuals and “guilty” individuals. He demonstrates this when he recalls his experience with the correctional officer who also appears to be a white supremacist. At the beginning of their relationship, the officer demeans and embarrasses Stevenson, and he is unkind to Avery Jenkins, the prisoner that Stevenson represents. The officer listens as Stevenson defends Jenkins and tells the court about Jenkins’ tormented childhood. As he listens, the correctional officer changes his behavior and perspective. He states, “But listening to what you [Stevenson] was saying about Avery made me realize that there were other people who had it as bad as I did. I guess even worse” (Stevenson 201). In this moment, the officer reveals that Jenkins’ story reminds him of his own poor decisions and harsh childhood. The officer, essentially, sees himself in Jenkins. Proof of the officer’s changed perspective occurs when the officer purchases a milkshake for Jenkins. Though simple, this gesture of kindness reveals that the officer is unable to maintain his previously unforgiving and harsh attitude. This recollection demonstrates why Stevenson writes this book with a personal tone. He does this so that readers may deeply empathize with prisoners and offer them compassion and mercy.
The officer’s change of attitude reveals that individuals may be redeemed. More importantly, though, the rest of the text also reveals that prisoners who are guilty of crimes may be redeemed as well. This relates to Stevenson’s earlier claims that children should not receive sentences that cause permanent damage, such as the death penalty and life-imprisonment, because of the fact that these children have the capacity to be redeemed, given the proper treatment and guidance. As an example, Stevenson writes about Evan Miller, a poor, white teen whom the courts sentence to life imprisonment without parole for a killing a man with his friend. Evan is definitely guilty, but as a result of the maturity that occurs over time, Evan becomes a completely different person than the reckless, foolish thirteen-year-old. Over time, Evan is “confused” by his adolescent actions (266). Stevenson expounds on Evan’s transformation and writes, “Almost all of the cases involved condemned people marked by the tragic irony that they were now nothing like the confused children who had committed a violent crime; they had all changed in some significant way” (Stevenson 266). Since these children clearly have the ability to change, Stevenson’s argues that society should give them actual opportunities to change instead of sentencing them to death or life imprisonment.
As Stevenson writes the final chapters of Just Mercy, he relies heavily on allusions to the Bible to demonstrate what he believes is the most effective way of stopping the cycle of violence, victimization, and mass incarceration. He alludes to the group of angry citizens who stand around an adulteress and are eager to stone her to death for her sins. Jesus intervenes with the much-quoted line, “ Let he who is without sin cast the first stone” and the woman is spared (Stevenson 309). Stevenson believes that the takeaway from this parable is that individuals ought to be stonecatchers instead of stone throwers. Instead of condemning without mercy, the public ought to show compassion.
By the end of this book, readers understand, furthermore, that individuals ought to show mercy and compassion because that is how society comes closer to righting the evils of victimization and violence. Stevenson reinforces this and states, “It’s when mercy is least expected that it’s most potent – strong enough to break the cycle of victimization and victimhood, retribution and suffering. It has the power to heal the psychic harm and injuries that lead to aggression and violence, abuse of power, mass incarceration” (294). Definitely, if society truly wishes to wage a war on crime, society must seek to create an environment where those who are most affected by this war, indigent and vulnerable men, women and children, have actual opportunities to change their behaviors, rehabilitate, and in turn help other human beings. It is this act of helping others, moreover that transforms culprits, victims, and bystanders from stone throwers and into stonecatchers who fight for equality and justice in a bleak world.
Works Cited
Stevenson, Bryan. Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption. New York: Spiegel &
Grau, 2014. Print.