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‘Incarceration Helped Me Find My Voice’ ‘Incarceration Helped Me Find My Voice’
(17 days later)
In “Out of Bounds: Coming of Age in Gang Territory,” Brian L. Frank takes an intimate look at the effect of targeted policing on minority youth in the Central Valley of California, where the children of agricultural workers and former factory workers have few opportunities. Coming from areas labeled “gang territory” — a distinction largely reserved for communities of color — that have experienced generations of neglect and aggressive policing, many young people enter the system on “gang related” charges as children.In “Out of Bounds: Coming of Age in Gang Territory,” Brian L. Frank takes an intimate look at the effect of targeted policing on minority youth in the Central Valley of California, where the children of agricultural workers and former factory workers have few opportunities. Coming from areas labeled “gang territory” — a distinction largely reserved for communities of color — that have experienced generations of neglect and aggressive policing, many young people enter the system on “gang related” charges as children.
Mr. Frank, who himself was a juvenile offender, said that instead of addressing the root causes of violence with community development or jobs programs in working-class areas, the police aggressively sweep minority neighborhoods to rack up arrest figures. At the same time, he has been looking at programs that offer nontraditional approaches to reducing recidivism.Mr. Frank, who himself was a juvenile offender, said that instead of addressing the root causes of violence with community development or jobs programs in working-class areas, the police aggressively sweep minority neighborhoods to rack up arrest figures. At the same time, he has been looking at programs that offer nontraditional approaches to reducing recidivism.
“I had my own run-ins with the law; a lot of the people that I’m photographing now, I see myself in them and I think, The only difference is you didn’t get out and I did,” Mr. Frank said. “Being able to not only tell these stories through my own lens, but also help people visually tell their own experiences with the criminal justice system, has been one of the highlights of my career.” “I had my own run-ins with the law; a lot of the people that I’m photographing now, I see myself in them and I think, ‘The only difference is you didn’t get out and I did,’” Mr. Frank said. “Being able to not only tell these stories through my own lens, but also help people visually tell their own experiences with the criminal justice system, has been one of the highlights of my career.”
In the following essay, Mr. Frank reflects on his experiences inside and outside the system.In the following essay, Mr. Frank reflects on his experiences inside and outside the system.
— David Gonzalez— David Gonzalez
My eyes opened to the flat, gray light of dawn. Between sleep and reality, I got up and put my feet to the floor. Cold concrete. I moved toward the small window in the door, hoping for a way out, but there was none. I pounded the wall. It was only when I snapped a bone in my hand that I realized I wasn’t in a bad dream. The pain was real.My eyes opened to the flat, gray light of dawn. Between sleep and reality, I got up and put my feet to the floor. Cold concrete. I moved toward the small window in the door, hoping for a way out, but there was none. I pounded the wall. It was only when I snapped a bone in my hand that I realized I wasn’t in a bad dream. The pain was real.
I was 14 years old. It was my first day in jail. It wouldn’t be my last.I was 14 years old. It was my first day in jail. It wouldn’t be my last.
I have reported throughout California in recent years on groups that challenge traditional norms of justice, community engagement, intervention and policing. I’ve ridden with police gang units, shadowed former gang members as they reach out with advice to a younger generation, and photographed California’s last remaining youth prison work camp (which for many young offenders is their first extended experience with nature). I have photographed in Pelican Bay State Prison, the first state-operated Supermax lockup. It’s a hell of deprivation.I have reported throughout California in recent years on groups that challenge traditional norms of justice, community engagement, intervention and policing. I’ve ridden with police gang units, shadowed former gang members as they reach out with advice to a younger generation, and photographed California’s last remaining youth prison work camp (which for many young offenders is their first extended experience with nature). I have photographed in Pelican Bay State Prison, the first state-operated Supermax lockup. It’s a hell of deprivation.
Warehousing doesn’t work and prisons, rather than offering a solution, can often compound the problem. Initiatives with the boldest imaginations and the most unorthodox methods are often the ones that reduce violence and recidivism, renew trust, and offer viable alternatives to crime for people caught in cycles of poverty and transgression. Led by activists, police officers, community liaison teams and corrections professionals, these various initiatives seek to stop the flow of people into prisons and equip those already incarcerated to get out and stay out. I am fascinated by the out-of-the-box responses that ordinary citizens and law enforcement officials are pursuing in the interests of rehabilitation and improved public safety. Anything but prison …Warehousing doesn’t work and prisons, rather than offering a solution, can often compound the problem. Initiatives with the boldest imaginations and the most unorthodox methods are often the ones that reduce violence and recidivism, renew trust, and offer viable alternatives to crime for people caught in cycles of poverty and transgression. Led by activists, police officers, community liaison teams and corrections professionals, these various initiatives seek to stop the flow of people into prisons and equip those already incarcerated to get out and stay out. I am fascinated by the out-of-the-box responses that ordinary citizens and law enforcement officials are pursuing in the interests of rehabilitation and improved public safety. Anything but prison …
… As a child in that cell, I felt alone, powerless and unique in my pain. As a photojournalist, I’ve learned that many people feel isolated and stuck with limited choices and unyielding institutions. I felt enslaved, and in many ways I still am. Slavery was part of this nation’s foundation, and its legacy of generational inequality is evident in American prisons, which house a quarter of the world’s inmates. I don’t know what’s worse: the feeling of complete abandonment as an imprisoned young teenager or the knowledge that tens of millions have felt, and still feel, exactly the same.… As a child in that cell, I felt alone, powerless and unique in my pain. As a photojournalist, I’ve learned that many people feel isolated and stuck with limited choices and unyielding institutions. I felt enslaved, and in many ways I still am. Slavery was part of this nation’s foundation, and its legacy of generational inequality is evident in American prisons, which house a quarter of the world’s inmates. I don’t know what’s worse: the feeling of complete abandonment as an imprisoned young teenager or the knowledge that tens of millions have felt, and still feel, exactly the same.
I cannot turn away from this. As with so many black and brown young men, memories of injustice and exploitation live on in my DNA, too, passed from my ancestors who toiled for European masters, to my grandmother, who worked as a house cleaner in the United States to bring her children, one by one, from Trinidad.I cannot turn away from this. As with so many black and brown young men, memories of injustice and exploitation live on in my DNA, too, passed from my ancestors who toiled for European masters, to my grandmother, who worked as a house cleaner in the United States to bring her children, one by one, from Trinidad.
That gray dawn in jail was one of the most formative days of my life: a crash course in civics no student would ever want to sign up for. But it was there, in school, on the streets and at home, that I learned more about how race, health, employment and social mobility can conspire to keep young people trapped. I saw firsthand how, as far the public debate over crime was concerned, fear and hyperbole trumped empathy and accuracy.That gray dawn in jail was one of the most formative days of my life: a crash course in civics no student would ever want to sign up for. But it was there, in school, on the streets and at home, that I learned more about how race, health, employment and social mobility can conspire to keep young people trapped. I saw firsthand how, as far the public debate over crime was concerned, fear and hyperbole trumped empathy and accuracy.
Yet in a way I never imagined, incarceration helped me find my voice.Yet in a way I never imagined, incarceration helped me find my voice.
One of the most visceral memories I have from my time incarcerated was how I felt speaking to my mother from the prison phone. It was a time of extreme shame and embarrassment — that I had let down my family, that I had let down my mother, who worked so hard to give me every opportunity in life. That’s why I used to hover around and photograph the prison phones. I was telling my own story, not just those of my subjects.One of the most visceral memories I have from my time incarcerated was how I felt speaking to my mother from the prison phone. It was a time of extreme shame and embarrassment — that I had let down my family, that I had let down my mother, who worked so hard to give me every opportunity in life. That’s why I used to hover around and photograph the prison phones. I was telling my own story, not just those of my subjects.
As a 2017 CatchLight Fellow, Mr. Frank spent a year working with The Marshall Project examining alternatives to incarceration. Last year, he also worked with CatchLight and Project Rebound with support from the Pulitzer Center on Crisis Reporting to facilitate a photojournalism workshop for formerly incarcerated youth at San Francisco State University.As a 2017 CatchLight Fellow, Mr. Frank spent a year working with The Marshall Project examining alternatives to incarceration. Last year, he also worked with CatchLight and Project Rebound with support from the Pulitzer Center on Crisis Reporting to facilitate a photojournalism workshop for formerly incarcerated youth at San Francisco State University.
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