I sat down on Monday night October 15th to watch the HBO documentary The Sentence, and I made sure to have with me a box of tissues because I was warned, “be ready to cry.” What was not told to me, was to be ready for the fist pounding anger that would on occasion, mask my tears. The thought of Cindy Shank, a young wife, and mother of three little girls being taken from her home at seven in the morning for a crime she was affiliated with six years prior was a sad commentary on the worth of life in America. At the time of her arrest, she was subject to mandatory minimum sentencing laws. Consequently, she was sentenced to 15 years in prison for the crime of being the girlfriend of a drug dealer [Alex Humphry]. I know some of you are shaking your heads, thinking I am naïve to believe she had no idea what was happening around her. I can tell you I had a relative in a similar circumstance, she too was young and vulnerable and fell into the Svengali-like spell of a charismatic young man. She also knew what was going on, just as Cindy’s brother Rudy admitted about his sister, but when the magician pulls the bouquet from his sleeve, you do not notice the wilting petals.
“This call is from a federal prison…”
Separated from the tiny voices, patent-leather shoes and pretty ribbons that adorned her three daughter’s hair, for nine years of her life, Cindy was granted clemency by the Obama administration in 2016. ‘The Sentence’ is not just a story to spur debate about mandatory sentencing or the insidiousness of a burgeoning prison industry, it is about how justice not only passes judgment on the individual but imprisons a family. Sure, it is easy to say throw away the key when talking about someone who was associated with a man who peddled thousands of dollars of illicit drugs and more than likely, on the periphery, had some responsibility for violence in black, brown and white communities. Cindy left that life behind, no longer blinded by young love and became a responsible wife and mother before a fateful knock in the wee hours of the morning at her home. It was hard to watch and hear the proverbial pitter-patter of her small children’s feet at home with their dad, knowing she was languishing behind prison walls. I could imagine the tapping of their hard-bottomed shoes echoing in her dreams. Cindy Shank’s oldest daughter Autumn, six at the time, summed up what happens to a family in the logic and truth of a child, “I think about her every second of a day and a night…”
Cindy’s husband, Adam Shank, also became a casualty of the collateral damage war. After three years of fighting to keep a semblance of normalcy, amidst judicial insanity, Adam felt compelled to divorce his wife. The truth is harsh, an imprudent criminal sentence breaks the societal chain, weakens a community and unlocks the security of a family. Answering the phone and hearing a disembodied recorded voice on the other end say, “this call is from a federal prison” was at first exhilarating, but predictably dissolved into tears when her family knew the call would be ended soon. Cindy Shank’s Mom put it succinctly, “I have lost track of time…” she said, fighting back the tear aching to roll down her cheek. She continued, “what some people don’t understand is that …when you have someone like that locked up, (sigh) you’re locked up too.” Eventually, my tears melded with the tears of her father, her mother, her two brothers, her sister and her children. I dried my eyes after one last pull from that box of tissues that sat on the table next to me and thought; ‘the tidal wave of change for a stranger could begin with a single tear of hope.’
If you are interested in helping with this worthy cause, I highly recommend you start by watching the HBO Documentary The Sentence and then contact FAMM.org for more information.