Friday, February 8, 2013
-NAME: Jevon Jackson
—ADDRESS: Columbia Corr. Inst.; P0 Box 900; Portage, WI 53901
-SENTENCE: Life with parole in 2078
-CONVICTION: Armed Robbery, Homicide, Possession of Weapon
-AGE INCARCERATED: 16 years old -DATE OF BIRTH: 5/07/77
-ELIGIBLE AGE FOR PAROLE: 101 years old
—SHOULD I BE GIVEN A 2ND CHANCE?: If prison is truly about rehabilitation, then I’ve consistently demonstrated, over the past 20 years, that I am reformed and ready to integrate back into society as a productive, hard—working man. I’ve taken advantage of all available education opportunities, maintained ongoing and steady employment since being incarcerated, and I continue to learn relevant jobs skills (such as basic computer skills).
I’ve avoided violent altercations and all criminal activity, which is a challenge within itself considering that prison is a violent and turbulent environment where fighting is a normal part of everyday activities.
During the span of my incarceration, I’ve evolved into an introspective Man who has purpose and compassion and the self— motivation to improve, not just myself, but the people and the circumstances that surround me.
What’s troubling is that the state of Wisconsin does not recognize legitimate “rehabilitation” as a reason to allow one’s sentence to be reduced, but yet, the state does allow sentence reductions for guys who provide helpful information to law enforcement agencies. For example, if a guy has information that could help the state convict another person suspected of committing a crime, then such a situation would allow a guy to get his sentence reduced, regardless if he’s legitimately reformed or not. But when a person consistently demonstrates the measure of his rehabilitation, over a 20 year span, by living a positive and purpose-driven life, then this should also factor in when considering to allow someone a sentence reduction.. Vet, it’s not.
I’m hopeful that more people out there continue to recognize that 16 year olds do not have the same degree of culpability as adults, and that juveniles shouldn’t be treated the same as adults when being sentenced. Juveniles should definitely be punished for their wrongs, but the punishment must be comparative to their level of maturity. If a 16 year old is not mature enough to be allowed to vote or buy liquor, then it would be cruel and unreasonable to suddenly treat the 16 year old as an adult when issuing punishment for a criminal conviction.
-cONTACT INFO: Please feel free to contact me at the address above or leave me a short message at www.prisoninmates.com/Jenb7ackson299O78
MILLER versus ALABAMA
From the bottoms of the earth’s blood to the Saturns in the skies, we survive the wormwood
where Jeffrey Dahmer dies.
Between a wall and a steel cot we conceal the ruckus in our dreams, Damn near 40, and under lock since we were incorrigibly 16.
Convicted teens, this is all we know-— prison prison prison and jail, But they just don’t wanna let us go so we can prove our evolution, availed.
A hundred years is not a hundred years,
No, not in the deep dark rear of iniquity;
A hundred years imprisoned is a blind cruel beast
that strangles us, long, beneath its wild blue sea.
We’ve watched our baby Loved Ones
become parents with their own families, (we’re locked away); We’ve witnessed mischievous little cousins
grow into esteemed collegiate honorees, (we rot away).
Some of us have beeü gone so long that nobody plays that song anymore! Most of us growl and sneer, to be strong
because its hard to fit Love through that door.
From the darkness of a coal mine to the brilliance of sparkling stones; We shine mighty in the mind
as we climb our way home.
[Note: Miller v. Alabama is a Supreme Court ruling (from 2012) where the court decided that it was unconstitutional to sentence a juvenile to a “mandatory” punishment of Life without parole; although, judges are still allowed to sentence juveniles to Life without parole, judges must consider the “mitigating factors of youth” before imposing such a harsh sentence.]
WHAT I’VE SEEN
I once watched a prison take a child and stretch him into angles, so when that little boy walks home, instinctively, they all scram out his way.
I once watched a prison
fight a tiger--biggest one I’ve ever seen, with claws that plucked dragons quick out the sky;
I once watched a prison smite a tiger gut a lair twist a jungle inside out.
I once watched a prison stomp—stomp, extemporaneously, on all the glowing garden flowers budding fresh in our Imaginations, so when folks speak of orchids and azaleas and sun-kissed lilies, we run to hush their lips, for safe.
I once watched a prison do long division with human heads, with cold bodies coiled tightly
in the damp black earth, fresh mud, the fingernails-- a filthy team of angst and cudgeled anger crumpled into a fist
of sloped open graves.
I once watched a prison shrivel up the sun into an orange pebbled nut, not with bergs of ice or black holes, but simply with the bent silhouette of its stone razored face pressed firm
against the dirty glass window.
THE HOPE ROOM
I go there
when the light weighs a thousand tons, and I am unable to move
from this cold, boulder, locked;
I go there
when What Is Next leans offensive against my surface, my purpose, my name;
I go there not to get away, but to get a way to heal this, to feel the good Cod medicine warm quiet against the rind;
I go there
when I am most confused, when
I fall nauseous to the wicked creep
of wretched circumstance, the dragon;
I go there, the vacant old pagoda, to soothe crumpled wings, make rich-- the tiny pauper;
I go there (frequently, I show up there) when I am broken, a billion smithereens
from scattered dust to gathered stars, truly I show up there, way—way up there, with asteroids for guts and green planets for brains;
I go there
to sip slow, the sun, to feel the glorious weightless push of bliss plus bliss plus melody;
I go there
whenever I am not here,
when the soul needs a good place to eat,
a space it knows as roam sweet.