Bryan Stevenson brings message of hope, tenacity
“We measure a community by how we treat the poor, how we treat the despondent, how we treat the ones without purpose,” said Stevenson. He praised those fighting for a better community in Sussex County and encouraged them to keep their eyes on the prize.
He grew up in Milton, where he and his siblings attended the Milton Colored School before integration. His grandmother was the daughter of slaves. He remembers when segregation was outlawed by the U.S. Supreme Court as unconstitutional. He is bothered that the Supreme Court case McCleskey v. Kemp says racial bias in death row cases is inevitable. Today, said the Cape Henlopen High School graduate, the ruling stands in the way of justice.
“It’s been more than 20 years since I read that decision, and I still haven’t recovered from it,” he said. He sat with a man waiting to be electrocuted, who said more people offered him help in the last 14 hours of his life than in the first 19 years, but that was not as difficult as reading a decision from the nation’s highest court – on whose walls are written “Equal justice under law” – that says racial bias is inevitable in executing the law.
Stevenson graduated from Harvard Law School and is a New York University law professor. He spoke at Epworth United Methodist Church, Sunday, Jan. 25, to a crowd of dozens, including several family members.
Epworth’s the Rev. Pat Loughlin said retired Cape teacher Norman Moore knew Stevenson returned often to the area and told the church’s social justice committee of his work.
“It’s always good to come home,” said Stevenson, who founded the Equal Justice Initiative (EJI) in Montgomery, Ala., after a stint with a civil rights group helping death row inmates in Atlanta, Ga.
From the EJI office in Montgomery, Stevenson and his team defend poor people and minorities on death row. The work is tough and often tearful, but it is compelling to work with clients so despised that society says they may not live, said Stevenson.
The country is facing a crisis of mass incarceration, with 2.3 million people behind bars, up from 200,000 in 1972. It’s the highest rate of incarceration in the world, and the system heavily favors the wealthy, said Stevenson. More than 30 million Americans live below the federal poverty level. “The justice system in this country has evolved, but it’s still wealth dependent. The system treats you better if you’re rich and guilty instead of poor and innocent,” said Stevenson. That inequality is why he has to speak out.
When he explained his work to Rosa Parks, she told him he would get tired, tired, tired. Civil rights era icon Johnnie Carr said that’s why he would have to be brave, brave, brave. “If we are going to advocate for the poor and deal with racial discrimination, we will get tired, but it’s the kind of fatigue that resonates with justice, the kind of fatigue that makes you feel stronger, not weaker,” said Stevenson.
In Alabama, people convicted of a crime permanently lose their right to vote. With one of three black males in prison, the state risks reaching voter disenfranchisement rates not seen among black men since the Voting Rights Act was passed.
Mass incarceration touches the lives of many and is part of a cycle of poverty and despair that sends children into lives of crime and lands them in prison, said Stevenson.
Based in a state whose constitution still calls for educational segregation – a recent referendum overwhelmingly retained the clause - Stevenson and the institute are fighting against the uniquely American trend of sentencing young teenagers as adults, committing them to die behind bars. He believes his clients are more than their crimes and encourages community members and faith groups to become involved with prisons and to help inmates rehabilitate into society. They need support and encouragement, he said.
Drawing strength from family and inspiration from his clients, Stevenson calls for hope and determination, telling others, “Keep your eyes on the prize, and hold on.”
He tells the story of the day he met a courthouse janitor, an older black male, on his way to court. The man learned he was a lawyer, hugged him and said, “I am so proud of you.” As he argued his teenage client’s case with the judge, Stevenson saw the janitor pace back and forth outside the courtroom, and finally walk in. A courtroom deputy confronted the janitor during a recess, asking what he was doing there. The man said he had come in to tell Stevenson, “Keep your eyes on the prize and hold on.”
Learn more about his work: www.eji.org
