Monday, April 27, 2015

An Evening With Sister Helen Prejean: Abolitions And the Morality of Punishment

On April 27th, I had the pleasure of attending another moving public event, An Evening With Sister Helen Prejean: Abolitions And the Morality of Punishment, at the DePaul Campus in Chicago.

Unfortunately, prior to the event, I had not had the opportunity to read or view A Dead Man Walking, but I had heard wonderful things about both the book and the movie. I had, how  During my first semester of senior year, I was enrolled in “Civil Liberties”, a class focused on Constitutional law and specifically past and current Supreme Court cases involving questions over civil liberties.  In addition to gaining exposure to issues revolving around the death penalty during my month-long unit concentrated on the Eighth Amendment (cruel and unusual punishment), I also recently attended a Chicago-Kent College of Law forum on Glossip v. Gross, a current case regarding botched executions.  For obvious reasons, this event sparked my interest.
ever, previously studied the death penalty and our country’s flawed judicial and penitentiary systems.

As soon as I entered the gothic lecture hall in the heart of DePaul’s campus, I observed the solemn mood of the room. Lining the walls by the entrance were hand-written letters from inmates at Stateville Correctional Center, a maximum security prison right outside of Chicago. The notes were heartbreaking.  Stories ranged from inmates who were told not to take plea deals and ended up with life sentences to individuals being given life sentences due to “guilt by association”. On the floor, the event planners laid down blue tape – which had to be no more than four feet by ten feet – to mirror the size of a prison cell.  I walked around slowly, taking it all in.

When Sister Helen Prejean was introduced, I expected a nun in full garb to take the stage. Instead, a stout woman with short, dark hair and typical street clothes stepped up to the podium and began speaking with a faint yet impassioned tone. Sister Helen Prejean explained exactly what I expected to hear.  She shared a personal narrative about a Louisiana death row inmate she had corresponded with before his execution, and then she went into her spiel about how imperative it is that members of society – and especially those who are well off – take up an active role in advocating for the abolition of the death penalty and the reform of our penitentiary system.  There was one comment she made, however, that did catch me off guard.  She noted that it doesn’t take witnessing an execution to recognize how our prison systems suck the life out of people. According to her, one visit to a prison will make you realize how the current system ruins life and does more harm than good. Prior to this event, I had decided that visiting a prison did not appeal to me because I would be disturbed by being surrounded with the perpetrators of serious crimes. Now, I think I would still feel wildly uncomfortable at a prison, but for a different reason.  I think it would be difficult for me to witness my fellow humans being deprived of liberty because (in many cases) of a flawed judicial system and an irrational dependency on our prison system.

For my independent research, I found an article titled “Would Jesus Pull the Switch?” written by Sister Helen Prejean. In it, the Sister depicts her first experience watching an execution and how horrifying it was.  She then goes on to rationalize why, on a religious basis, she cannot be in support of the death penalty.  She explains, “Nor do I believe that God invests human representatives with such power to torture and kill. The paths of history are stained with the blood of those who have fallen victim to ‘God's Avengers.’ Kings, popes, military generals, and heads of state have killed, claiming God's authority and God's blessing. I do not believe in such a God.” These few lines speak to me because I feel (minus the religious aspect) very similarly. I do not understand how citizens can feel comfortable with a judicial system – a system that us humans devised – can have the power to decide who will have life and who will have death.

Note*: While I admit that my reflections have little to do with countries relating to one another, it is worth mentioning that when it comes to conversations about the death penalty, it is very relevant to cite how other countries approach the death penalty.  Most interesting is that America is not in great company when it comes to the list of countries that administer the death penalty.  The group includes – but is not limited to – Afghanistan, Iran, North Korea, Pakistan, and Somalia, all countries with which the U.S. rarely likes to align itself when it comes to foreign or domestic policy.  The issue that pro-death penalty advocates have with this argument, however, is that the United States Constitution should not and has never taken into account the standards of decency shared in outside nations.  The Constitution strictly applies to the United States.


Sunday, April 26, 2015

Exploring My Jewish Identity with the Anti Defamation League


Today I had the opportunity to attend an event organized by the Anti Defamation League called, “Words To Action”.   For those of you who are unfamiliar with this organization, the ADL is a human rights agency that "fights anti-Semitism and all forms of bigotry, and defends democratic ideals and civil rights".


This afternoon's forum, which was my first with the ADL, was comprised of both Jewish and non-Jewish high school seniors from around the city. We met at Pizzeria Serio on Belmont where we were greeted warmly with pies and salads, and given time to “schmooze” before jumping in to the heavier political discourse.  

The topic of today’s discussion was “Empowering Jewish Students to Address Bias on Campus”. The young man who led began by having us briefly explain why we decided to join the group. Answers varied little, ranging mostly from, “I came to learn how to defend my beliefs on a college campus,” to, “I just want to learn more about the Jewish experience.” He then had us play a game of “stand up if this applies to you”.  Specifically, he read us five questions, all in regards to our experiences with anti-Semitism, and asked us to stand if we had experienced what he was describing. Interestingly, almost every single person stood up for everything – an occurrence the group-leader promised he had hardly ever seen before.  Yet the questions never got personal; it was always, “have you read about anti-Semitism in the papers”, or “have you heard about anti-Zionism on campuses”.  What he never asked was, “have you yourself ever felt personally attacked our isolated because of your religious identity?” Had he asked that question, my guess is that hardly anyone would have stood up. 

Speaking for myself, I recognize that my experience in Chicago has not been exactly representative of what it is like to be Jewish in America and especially not the world. My experience over the past 18 years has been one of hardly any exposure to anti-Semitism.  In a way, I guess, I was kind of hoping the meeting today would act as a reality-check.   My feeling was that some of my peers in the room, including myself, have no idea what we are going to encounter in the future.  I do not say this because I want to feel more prepared to cope with being unreasonably hated; I’m actually not particularly afraid of people hating me because of my religion. I’ve determined that anyone who wants to be belligerently discriminatory or offensive because of my religion is not worth my time or worries. Rather, what concerns me most is not having a logical rebuttal to anti-Israel sentiments. 

I know I love Israel, and for basic reasons I can argue why I believe Israel has a right to exist and why I stand by its policy of remaining a majority Jewish state. Yet I get lost when it comes to the mistreatment of Palestinians.  When words like “apartheid state” get thrown around, I become very uncomfortable.  I don’t feel like I know enough about Israeli domestic policy to reasonably argue on behalf of the country, but I also feel compelled to defend Israel because of my Jewish identity.  I know the ADL conducts groups geared more towards how to approach these situations, but I’m also not sure I want to be told how to respond. Is it authentic if I’ve just reciting facts and figures relayed to me through a Jewish organization? I feel like I should be developing my own position on these topics. The only problem is, aside from living in Israel, I’m not quite sure where to start.

For my independent research, I read through a Huffington Post Article titled, "Anti-Semitism Is a Big Problem At American College Campuses, According To New Report." What I found most interesting in this piece was a comment that the author made about how at times anti-Israel sentiments "crossed the line into anti-Semitism." This line is curious to me because one of my lingering questions through today's discussion was whether anti-Israel sentiment is actually mostly anti-Semitism manifesting itself in a political discussion.  It seemed to me that our forum leader seemed to believe that way. This is a question I struggle to answer now becasue I have not yet experienced anti-Israel rallies on college campuses, but it is something I reasonably see myself having to think about in the near future.