The purpose of the criminal justice system is to hold people responsible for crimes accountable for their actions. In holding responsible parties accountable, the system makes a set os assumptions for what accountability looks like. Over time, accountability has come to mean one of two remedies. Giving up your time in a state ran facility or forfeiting a sum of money meant to assign a dollar sign to tragedy. Those blanket remedies should repair the harm done to our communities, right?
Ultimately those remedies are punishments. Punishments that center on the responsible parties and the failures of that individual. The criminal justice system is centered on the 'criminal.'' Maybe it's time to try a new approach that centers remedies around the needs of victims. Victims are the people harmed by crime. Why not cener remedies on what would repair the damage done to them. Restorative justice aims to do that by asking the questions “who is harmed?” and “what will it take to repair that harm?” Those questions should be the nucleus of the system that we delegate restoration to. A victim centered approach that could give a chance at healing.
Hurt People, Hurt People
People impacted by harm are the center of restorative justice. But, to understand how harms affect communities, the people who are responsible for harm have to be understood. Responsible parties hardly commit crimes randomly. Many times, it is the result of harms that have been done to them. Armand Coleman, co-founder of the Transformational Prison Project, coined the phrase 'hurt people hurt people and healed people heal people.' During his restorative justice journey, he dealth with the harms of the criminal justice system. Coleman says “ We are taught in restorative justice that people do harm, right? But it's not only individuals, but it's also systems.”
Coleman pled guilty to a crime becuase “...there was a lot of fabricated evidence against me. And I felt guilty.” Coleman described how he always imagined the people that prosecute crimes as the good guys and people that would catch the bad guys. However, after his interaction he said “I never knew that they will use underhanded, illegal, unethical tactics... That was something that was just shocking to me when they literally, like, created a whole case.” It took time for Coleman to heal from that. However, that was not the first time in his life that we was victimized.
When Coleman started his restorative justice journey, he was asked to fill out a form about the trauma that he experienced in his life. Out of about 26 traumas he checked 24 boxes. Coleman had never been in a space where he processed that the experiences he had contributed to the actions he took.
Coleman is not alone in his experience. Jefferson Hudson, a co-founder of Transformational Prison Project alongside Coleman, shared the moment in his life that led him down a path to being responsible for harm. When he was just 14 years old when he saw his childhood rolemodel was shot in front of him. Blood splatter on his face and unable to identify a suspect, Hudson never dealt with the moment. Being an eye witness to a crime that he would replicate in his early twenties. Restorative justice gave him an opportunity to heal so that he could then begin to heal people.
Tavon Robinson shared a similar story. Robinson's older brother passed away when he was young. The trauma affected him through his teenage years, but he never understood that the pain of loosing his older sibling was the reason he made the actions he did. Restorative justice provided a space for him to understand that he needed to handle the issues that haunted him so he could move forward on a path to healing.
The Myth of the Victimless Crime
Harm has an expanded reach beyond the moment they happen. Within the criminal justice system, there is the idea of the 'victimless crime.' These are crimes that the criminal justice system does not assign a victim to because a person was not directly harmed in the commission of a crime. The term ignores the victims of the people that have to deal with the ripple effects of crime.
Janet Connors, who leads many of the restorative justice circleshowever, emphasizes that crimes, whether there is a specific victim or not, affect a whole community.
“If you follow those drugs, if you follow those guns, how many people get hurt? How many people get killed, How many people get arrested, deported, incarcerated? How many people get addicted? How many people die of overdoses? How many families suffer behind all of that? And so people then realize, 'Wow, I have a lot of victims. I never thought about it.’”
Robyn Houston-Bean is the mother of Nicholas (Nick) who passed away after a drug overdose. Houston-Bean described her interactions with police after her son passed away. The police could not find the person that sold her son the drugs. The drugs Nick consumed were traffiked into his community and placed in his possession by someone. But no one was ever held accountable. Nick is not the only victim, his mother who did her best to keep him from alcohol is a victim. His older sister, who lost her best friend is a victim. His younger brother who saw his brother rolled out of their home on a stretcher is a victim. His father who places part of the blame on himself is a victim. The EMT's that attended to one of their own, Nick was an EMT, are victims. His girlfriend who never got the chance to say goodbye is a victim.
There are so many ripples to harm. The community is harmed when crime occurs and they must be included in the systems approach to accountability.
Focusing on humanity
For those who've lost loved ones due to crime, restorative justice helps them overcome and heal from the tragedies they face. By sitting in circle with people who've committed crimes, they can both better understand who harmed them, and on the flip side, they can articulate the ways they've been impacted.
Clarissa Turner, who now devotes her life to restorative justice work, emphasizes that talking circles provide structure for these conversations. The guided format in circles allows for each person — including victims, responsible parties, loved ones and members of the community — both to listen and to be heard.
“In circle, we learn how to say what we need to say, release a lot of pain, not one feeling embarrassed to express how they feel or what they've been through,” said Turner, who lost her eldest son, Marquis, to homicide in 2011. “It's a safe haven place that you can just release. And we know when we do release, we leave space open to receive anew.”
In Robyn Houston-Bean's experience, for example, she was so nervous walking into her first circle session in the Restorative Justice program, following the death of her son, Nicholas, who died of heroin overdose in 2015. This circle included people who pleaded guilty to drug trafficking. She went in with the sole intention of telling them how their types of crime “ruined her life.” But it didn't go as she expected.
“It was weird because I expected them all to look like monsters, you know? And they didn't. They just looked like people.”
By hearing their stories, Houston-Bean was able to understand these people in ways she hadn't before. She learned about what led them down the path to crime and incarceration. To her surprise, she felt empathy for them.
“There's people that have grown up in different ways than I did, who had different situations in their family lives than I did, who might have been handed a really crappy, crappy life,” she said. “Then this is where they ended up, probably through no fault of their own. And I don't think I had ever thought of it.”
The word “monster” came up frequently among those interviewed for this piece. For Janet Connors, who lost her son Joel in 2001, she wanted his killers to face the impacts of their actions and work toward repairing the harm. And for that to happen, she reminded herself that her son's killers were people, not monsters, and that they should not behave as monsters would.
“If I think of them as monsters, I absolve them of their responsibility,” she said. “Holding them in their humanity is what makes them accountable.”
An opportunity for reflection and redemption
On the flip side of Robyn's experience, it wasn't until a circle session that Tavon Robinson had realized how victims and other people viewed him. When a woman opened up the circle, she talked about how her daughter did not come because she did not want to be surrounded by monsters.
“It hit me hard, like I'm looked at as a monster. Because I don't feel like I'm a monster,” Robinson said. “But I had to actually now see through the eyes of a woman whose child overdosed and died off of a product that I was helping be responsible at times putting in the world. And so seeing that, it opened my eyes.”
Robinson was incarcerated twice and completed the RJ program following his second sentence. For him, restorative justice has made the difference between falling back into patterns of harm by addressing his issues head-on and changing for the better.
“I was probably 85, 90% sure I wouldn't commit crimes anymore when I came home from prison. And after that second time when I started to change my life, restorative justice made it 100.”
Robinson is not alone. Restorative justice approaches have shown evidence of dropping recidivism rates. In one 2014 case, a restorative justice program in Longmont, Colorado, even resulted in a recidivism rate of 8%, contrasting with a 60-70% rate for those who've gone through traditional justice systems.
And as of 2023, at least one in four people who go to jail will be arrested again within the same year, according to the Prison Policy Initiative.
Not only are responsible parties working toward a better way of life through restorative justice practices, but they often feel remorse for others' losses and empathize with those in their circle.
This has happened several times in Turner's experience, and is one of the most powerful moments for her. This, she said, is the beginning of their healing journey.
“For an individual in a circle to say to me, 'I didn't kill your son, but I harmed somebody else. But I'm sorry for what that person did to you' — do you know what I did to me the first time that happened? I was like, 'Oh my God, that's all I want. For these kids to acknowledge. Don't just tell me sorry because you think I want to hear it, but I want you to mean it. Because when you mean you're sorry, then that's been your process of healing begins. Because that's telling me you are holding yourself accountable, your own what you did. Now you want to mend. Now you want to be better, show up better, not just for me or the community, but for your own family who you harmed.”
Repairing relationships with one's self, family and community
J. C. Anderson, who was also formerly incarcerated and completed the RJ program, hit this turning point that Turner mentioned. At the heart of restorative justice, he said, is honesty. And only by being honest with himself about his actions and impacts was he able to recognize that he had to be a better man.
“Some of us are grown men, but we're boys inside, you know? And this makes you be a man, makes you step up to the plate and know that you [have] done wrong,” he said. “And it takes a man to be able to apologize to some people that you've hurt in the past.
His main focus is on being a better father for his [tk X number] children. Before restorative justice, he said he was a good “provider” for his children, but felt he wasn't a good father figure. Now, having gone through the program, he aspires to be a better support system and a positive influence in their lives.
“I didn't want to look over my shoulder no more. I didn't want to worry about someone, a bunch of guys coming into my house, harassing my kids. I didn't want to walk down the street or people consider me somebody when I'm nobody because of that lifestyle,” he said. “I wanted to be normal. I wanted to be a father. I wanted to go to basketball games. I wanted to throw a ball with my kid outside in the yard.”
For many of those who've been incarcerated, family has been a big motivation for continuing restorative justice work.
Jefferson Hudson, who was incarcerated for 35 years, started his restorative justice journey while in prison, and ultimately became one of the founding members of the Transformational Prison Project. And he said his grandchildren were a major factor in his willingness to do the program.
“I remember my granddaughter told me, 'Granddad, you got to do whatever you need to do to get better so you can come home to us,’” Hudson said. “And I was like, 'I really gotta go all in.’”
This desire to be reunited with his family gave him the strength to undergo this transformational process.
Personally, Anderson also found greater self-worth and self-esteem — qualities that also empowered him to be a better member for his community.
He didn't used to believe in himself, and his low sense of dignity prevented him from engaging with his community in a meaningful way. Now, he has gained confidence and learned how simple greetings like “Hi, how are you?” and “Good morning” can go a long way in reintegrating with the community. For him, this has been a first step to getting his community to know his new, changed self.
“[Restorative justice] broke me down, but it built me up to understand what a father is or what a person is in the community or how you're gonna move to make others understand that you're not that type of person,” Anderson said. “If somebody reads about you, you could be judged, but [by] getting to know you, they'll understand that you're a different person. And it really helped me believe in myself to let others believe in me.”
Who Is Restorative Justice For?
Advocates present restorative justice as a solution to the issue of victim invisibility within the criminal justice system. While it is something that has potential to correct some of the wrongs of the system, the program still have improvement areas.
Jane Peachy is a public defender who refers many clients to restorative justice. She said restorative justice helps her clients with “understanding the harm that your actions have had on others.” She likes the program because defendants are “less likely to do that again in the future. You're filled with empathy. There's a lot of empathy in restorative justice that goes both ways. And I think that in the end helps our communities, helps make the world a safer place.”
Restorative justice works when communities are involved in providing support and accountability for offenders. Peachy questions if communities are involved enough in the restorative process: “Why is it that its lawyers and probation are running this program and not members of the community?”
Coleman echoed some of Peachy's sentiments in saying “I realized the people who needed restorative justice the most wasn't getting it, [it's stuck in], the suburbs [and] academia.” He wants to see it built into other systems like the Department for Youth Services and take it to “every inlet of the system.”
Beyond restorative justice not meeting people where they are, it may not be for all victims. Marquez Turner chose to not do restorative justice with his mother. Unlike his mother, he is not ready to forgive the killers.
“The forgiveness part — me, personally, I can't do that. I haven't even seen their faces yet. Well, my mom, I honor her for doing that, though, because it takes a lot of strength to do that, especially for a woman that's been through what she's been through.”
He acknowledges that he’ll go to a circle one day, but he’s still in the process of accepting his brother’s death.
Restorative justice has a way to go before it’s at peak performance. But advocates still say it is more beneficial than the current system.
A Restorative Lifestyle
Restorative justice is more than an act. Proponents of the program call it a lifestyle.
Robinson says for him, restorative justice has now become a “lifestyle,” and it made the difference between falling back into patterns of harm, and addressing his issues head-on and changing for the better.
Coleman no only worked through his traumas, but gained lesson in how to make meaningful change in his own life. “One thing I learned through restorative justice is that anytime I have an irrational reaction to everyday experiences, it means my trauma is being triggered.” Before Coleman participated in restorative justice, he said, “All prison did was compound those traumas. And it just made me worse. I mean, especially going inside where I had no ability to regulate my emotions.”
Since her son, Joel, passed Connors has devoted her life to restorative justice practices and healing circles. Connors now holds many circles throughout the Greater Boston area at courts, prisons, schools and other community centers, gathering those who’ve committed crimes with survivors.
Turner also talked about what it means for her to hear from responsible parties what their actions mean. “Because when you mean you're sorry, then that's been your process of healing begins. Because that’s telling me you are holding yourself accountable, your own what you did. Now you want to mend. Now you want to be better, show up better, not just for me or the community, but for your own family who you harmed.”
Restorative justice is not something that should be stuck in the suburbs or a one time encounter with circle. The process should be transformational and taken back to the communities who are hurt the most. So, how does circle expand?