"I'm convinced that every boy, in his heart, would rather steal second base than an automobile."
-Tom Clark
Polunsky Unit in Livingston, Texas is accurately dubbed the state's "death row," and given the percentage of American executions that take place in the Lone Star State, it might be better described as America's Death Row.
Polunsky is spartan and remote. It's located just more than an hour north of Houston, near the state's Piney Woods region, and across a large lake from Huntsville, where death row prisoners meet their match in the similarly notorious Walls Unit. In building 12 of Polunsky, death row inmates "enjoy" sixty-foot cells adorned with a bean slot just large enough for a daily transfer of meal-time slop. Each cell has a small window, a menacing reminder of the outside world that these prisoners, barring some miracle, will never enjoy again. According to Wikipedia, prisoners "receive individual recreation in a caged area." In reality, the prisoners are afforded one hour per day to walk around.
Polunsky has around 290 death row inmates, a figure that makes up almost the entirety of the state's condemned population. The vast majority of those are men, and while their individual markings might look different, these offenders quite often have something in common. Mental health issues abound on death row, of course, with some landing on death row because of them and others developing their issues after years of awaiting death in solitary confinement. Some are black, while many are white. All are there for murder of some kind or another, even though Texas's death penalty often fails to discriminate between those who were attendant to a murder and those who pulled the trigger multiple times.
The tragic middle portion of a death penalty story is always the same. It revolves around the death of an innocent. Quite often, the first chapter of that death penalty story is the same for each man housed in Polunsky.
Texas death penalty lawyer David R. Dow has written in his books and argued in his talks that he could write the life story of every death row inmate without ever meeting that person, and he'd be right roughly nine times out of ten. In a
TED talk on the subject, Dow noted that in almost every case, the offender experienced some form of abuse or abandonment at home, and while this does not excuse the actions of the offender, it can help us through the difficult task of explaining why the crime took place.
He has also observed that for the bulk of his clients, seeing a judge on a capital murder charge was far from their first interaction with the criminal justice system. Many were fast-tracked through the criminal justice system at an early age, experiencing the harshness of its directives and having their lives thrown off course by draconian sentencing and certification policies that make it increasingly easy for Texas judges to charge young offenders with adult crimes.
While statistics on juvenile recidivism are difficult to come by, one report suggests that in Texas, roughly two out of every three juveniles released from detention will be re-arrested within two years. For males, the number is even higher.
Some might suggest that this is simply the justice system ensnaring offenders who have some innate criminal mindset. Others note that interaction with the criminal justice system, as it is currently constituted, creates a higher likelihood that young people will turn to crime in the future.
When young people are arrested, a phenomenon that is happening more often for less serious offenses in states like Texas, they are removed from school. In the worst cases, they never return. Even in cases where young people are able to secure probation or a truncated sentence, they miss valuable time in their classes. Beyond that, they are exposed to jail and the trauma that accompanies that experience. Depending upon the crime, they might be tagged with criminal records that will follow them for years to come. While it is typical for states to offer young people the opportunity to expunge arrests and convictions from the records after a certain amount of time has passed, the process can often be both expensive and cumbersome. One law firm that handles such matters suggests that it can cost anywhere from $1,000 to $2,500 to have one's record expunged, putting it effectively out of reach for families in which a four-figure windfall represents groceries for a few months. Without the help of an attorney and without the resources to do so, many young people are left with criminal records that will prevent them from getting apartments and jobs in the future.
The moral imperative lurks, as Texas and its citizens have a responsibility to look out for the well-being of the state's youth. But as Dow and others have found, there's something more important at play, as well.
Death penalty lawyers lament that their field must exist, and it's not just because they oppose capital punishment. For those of us who have worked in this field, the existence of a capital client represents at least two lives ruined and two families ripped to pieces. It represents the worst possible scenario, and one that should be prevented if at all possible. It's not enough as a capital defender to lament the situation. It's incumbent upon us, and all who care, to do something about the issue.
Removing the barriers that stand in the way of young people and successful re-entry into society is a first step that seeks to intervene during the first chapter of the death penalty story, potentially steering a would-be Polunsky resident back onto the lawful path before the state ever has reason to exert its brand of controversial justice.
With that in mind, Dow and his team have established the Juvenile and Capital Advocacy Project, or JCAP for short. JCAP is the brain child of Dow and his skillful team, and erupts from a career spent wondering what might have been if someone had simply gotten to a few of Dow's clients a little bit earlier. It's a project that seeks to provide both legal services for young people and mentoring to help those young people navigate the unique challenges that they are bound to face.
From the website's mission statement:
JCAP's mission is to reduce juvenile crime and delinquency and improve the long-term educational success rates and life outcomes of socially and economically disadvantaged juveniles.
In a 2012 TED talk that has been viewed more than 1.4 million times, Professor David R. Dow observed that more than 80% of the inmates on death row had previous contact with the juvenile justice system. Dow therefore proposed early intervention in the lives of at-risk juveniles as part of a strategy to improve the lives of socially and economically disadvantaged youth and thus decrease adult crime. JCAP is being developed to implement that strategy.
JCAP's mentoring program will match young people with interested adults willing to offer a few hours of their time each month to make a difference. Based out of Houston, it presents the perfect opportunity for many of you to fill any spare hours with a cause that will be both rewarding to you and meaningful for the Houston community. Mentors will receive training, and will be asked to help young people deal with some of the emotional and logistical issues that come with trying to make a life after committing a juvenile crime.
I will be volunteering with JCAP, and I hope that some of you will join me. There is tremendous need, and I suspect that those who choose to get involved will gain from the experience nearly as much as those young people being helped.
Those who are interested in volunteering their time can contact Erin Osborn, JCAP's Mentorship Program Director, at erin@jcaptexas.org.
The organization is also in need of financial support as it seeks to get off the ground and later, continue its growth. Those interested in making a financial contribution can do so here. I have worked closely with Professor Dow in my time as a student at UH and in the time that's followed, and I can attest that he and his group are targeting a strategy that will not only improve the lives of disadvantaged youth in the Houston community, but also improve the quality of life for all that live in Houston by reducing violent crime rates there.