I look around the room and I see 20 amazing men who I’ve come to call friends. In the mix are those who have murder charges, drug charges, and everything in between. If someone only looked at a book club member’s rap sheet, they may conclude that they’re a hopeless, ignorant criminal without any hope of redemption. But without the scarlet letter declaring each one a, a person sitting in the room with these intelligent, compassionate and helpful men may reach a totally different conclusion.
Krinks went on to cofound Open Table Nashville, an interfaith homeless outreach nonprofit, and has been ordained as a street chaplain. She organizes marches and protests to push for legislative changes that benefit those experiencing homelessness. She told us about her book, “It’s a story of falling in love with a people, with a struggle, with this world and all its madness. It’s a story of a seeker searching for belonging, for some spark, some horizon of hope.
One average Tuesday afternoon, as we were lined up on the concrete walk to go to chow, I saw one prisoner, Lucas, take his shoes off, then his socks. Lucas is 72 years old, has been incarcerated for 38 years and was just diagnosed with cancer. His days are numbered. As we began moving to chow, Lucas walked on the grass. “Inmate, get off my grass,” the yard sergeant yelled. Lucas paid him no mind and continued walking.
Since that day, our book club has sent hundreds of letters to politicians, organized writing campaigns for causes related to treatment of prisoners and filed multiple grievances when injustices occur at our site. When I read articles or watch news reports about prisons, they’re usually devoid of any incarcerated voices. As insiders, we must insist that stories about us include our perspectives when possible. Contacting news media through letters is our newest mission.