[ad_1]
“These guys, we went to prison, we spent decades, and we went home,” said Downing, now 42. ”
This is one of the lovely scenes in District of Second Chances, a bold film premiering this week at the DC Independent Film Festival. Driving home from the bus stop, Downing marvels at the people passing by on scooters. Downing sees colorful murals appearing in Anacostia. Downing bonded with his daughter, who was born shortly after his incarceration.
Typically, the focus in the context of post-conviction reform concerns people who are innocently accused.
But in Wynette Yao’s searing film, which was financed and produced by the nonprofit organization Families Against Mandatory Minimums, the three men who appear are all guilty. There is.
In the film, which was shot over two years, Yao highlights the impact of the D.C. Act, one of the most progressive laws in the nation. At a time when violent crime is at a generational peak and the expedient response to young offenders is to lock them up, Yao asks us whether maximum sentences for young offenders are the answer. We are asking you to consider this.
All three cases were murders, and all were horrific. All three, now free and living in the nation’s capital, were young when they received heavy sentences imposed by the state in response to a spike in crime in the 1990s. It was a time when people were labeled as “super-predators” and dismissed outright.
“I don’t believe in rehabilitation,” said Cory Lever Long, 46, who was sentenced to life in prison without parole in 1998. Rehabilitation means getting back to your original state. ”
His previous condition was that an 18-year-old boy shot a gun at his 14-year-old friend, then reloaded and fired after an argument over a video game. No, he doesn’t want that to happen again. Currently, he is a bespectacled writer, poet, and program associate at Georgetown University.
Under the Incarceration Relief Amendment Act 2016, judges are required to take into account a prisoner’s rehabilitation, maturation and development, childhood circumstances and whether the crime was committed under the influence of an older person. The law previously applied only to minors, but was recently expanded to apply to anyone under the age of 24 who has served at least 15 years in prison, and is now being passed on to D.C. Councilmember Charles. It’s a move supported by Allen (D-6th District). He is facing a recall campaign by people who say he is too lenient on crime.
It was a bold move as states increasingly engage in post-conviction reforms aimed at undoing the legacy of mass incarceration policies codified in the Reagan-era drug war.
I recently wrote several articles about the trauma that these complaints cause to victims.
Kristen Hubbard, a survivor of the horrific kidnapping and rape that gripped the region in 1992, was notified (often with little notice) that her attackers were demanding her release and that she was being asked to testify. I had to relive that nightmare over and over again. .
“When it happens, there’s no rhyme or reason to it,” said Hubbard, now 50 and testifying again in Richmond this week as a similar second-look law is being considered in Virginia. “No one is talking about this effect on us. We’re just being victimized again and again.”
So far, recidivism rates for second-time releases have been low, according to criminal justice scholars. The greatest harm appears to be in the way survivors and victims’ families are treated during this process.
Hubbard said victims are often ignored when talking about helping criminals.
I looked it up and found that yes, most of these articles, including my own, don’t even have names.
Vidalina Semino, 54, was kidnapped and murdered in 2000 by a group of four men who belonged to Gene Downing. George Reed, 29, was shot and killed by Anthony “Pete” Petty Jr. in 1990. 14-year-old Ronald Antonio Williamson was murdered by Cory Lever Long in 1996.
So is there a correct way to do this?
That’s the story Yao wanted to tell in the film, which follows Long, Downing and Petty as they were sentenced as adults more than 20 years ago.
During this time, the number of life sentences handed out quadrupled in 30 years, according to the Prison Sentencing Project.
Petty, 49, now works with at-risk children and tells her story as a cautionary tale.
“I tell them, ‘I did it for 30 years, so you don’t have to do it for 30 years,'” he says.
The dispute with Reed was over a $5 debt and ended in a melee involving a group of boys with sticks and knives, which Petty broke up with a .25 caliber pistol. He said he wrote a letter of apology to the family but received no response.
Yao said during the interview for the film that she felt that victim support was a major issue. In many cases, victims’ families are forgotten and are contacted only 24 hours before a release hearing is scheduled.
“Unfortunately, our society doesn’t do much for victims,” she says. “Therefore, the only consolation they have to seek lies in this punishment, a conviction, and a long sentence.”
Long said she also wrote a letter to the family of the victim, 14-year-old Williamson. “I would like to say to Mr. Thomas that he is sorry for what he did,” he said.
Lynn Thomas testified in Ms. Long’s case and spoke to The Washington Post’s Marcia Davis in 1996 when her son was killed.
“I told him he needed to stop hanging out on the street and come into the house like he was supposed to,” she said. “Those were the last words I said to my son.”
All three have a sense of crisis for freedom. They write, speak, publish, and preach.
“We all deserve a second chance, but the people we hurt don’t deserve a second chance,” Long said. “So we all have this innate feeling of wanting to give back.”
Downing said he knows he’s in the spotlight. “I know people have a lot of expectations of me right now,” he said.
It was difficult to talk about his case. He kidnapped Semino, a 54-year-old waitress at the Omni Shoreham Hotel, stuffed her in the trunk of her car, used her ATM card, and then took her out into the woods where he tried to steal her. He was one of the four boys killed. run away.
Semino reminded me of my mother, an immigrant with unkempt hair. Her sister Ena Semino told me about the time Vidalina disappeared and her body was kept in the morgue and misidentified. I kept her name posted on my desk for years as a reminder that every victim’s story deserves to be told.
I told Downing all this.
“Yeah. I take her with me everywhere I go, too,” Downing said.
For Downing, she’s looking at a new bridge. He looks and sees a new mural there. So he decided to pay his rent, stand tall and be there for his daughter.
Every time someone tells him, “I’m fine,” he says, “It’s like she’s saying that too. I feel like she forgives me.”
He can never know. For now, he continues his efforts to earn it, to prove that he deserves a second chance.
This film is being shown at the following venues DC Independent Movie Forum Friday, February 23rd, 6:20pm at Regal Gallery Place.
[ad_2]
Source link
