So, I'm a thug?

I intended to start this off with a lighter subject, but this one is just itching to be written. It’s dedicated to a certain “accordion man,” you know who you are.

See, for some insane reason, I joined Twitter, and have been adding people who amuse me to the list of folks I follow. Then there was this one “tweet,” obviously by the accordion man who had been fairly amusing previously, that sort of set my teeth on edge. “F***thepolice.” Of course, those of you who know me know I had to follow up on that one. I was told I am a “thug 4 hire” and I “enforce laws of a murderous and corrupt superpower.” Oh, yeah, that lit a fire.

Got me to thinking about the path that led me to being a “thug 4 hire.” I had no clue what I was going to do for a living when I got to college. All I knew was I hated school and wanted out in the shortest amount of time possible. Ran across a course called “corrections,” and that intrigued me. See, I was a very idealistic 18 year old child at the time. Very much a child of the 60's and 70's. Anti-Vietnam war, don’t trust people over 30, the whole thing. This class talked about the purpose of the criminal justice system to protect the public, to prevent people from being warehoused, and to help people return to being productive members of the community when it was necessary to remove them from society for a time.

I really liked the part about helping people. That’s what I wanted to do. So corrections became my major. Yes, this was back in “the dark ages” before it was renamed criminal justice science. A lot of sociology and psychology classes later, I had my degree. During my senior year, I wrote a grant application and obtained funding for a juvenile diversion program for the county probation office where I interned. Wow! I was making a difference already! Now what would I do? I left college being extremely liberal (isn’t that what college is for?) I was anti-death penalty, felt 90% of “criminals” needed help and understanding, and I was going to help.

My first job was working for a residential girls’ home run by a group of Roman Catholic nuns. Hey, it sounded like a good place to start. I was a live-in “cottage mom.” They went to school during the day, there were three of us who played “cottage mom” the rest of the time. Had a room in the cottage, so I had the honor of sleeping there, too. I earned a whopping $350 a month. It took me 18 months to figure out that working with a group of 12 hard core delinquent girls ages 13 to 17 was pretty much a losing proposition if you are looking for a positive experience. Actually, I figured that out the first time a cute little 13 year old told me exactly where I could go, how to get there, and what I could do with myself when I arrived. And that was within the first couple of weeks. But, by God, I was going to make a difference for these girls! Teach them that society did value them. That they could have wonderful lives. These kids who had been raised by drug addicts, had been sexually abused by friends and family, had serious mental health issues, in general, had more problems than the nuns could fix. I wasn’t too impressed with the nuns, either. I didn’t really think cleaning the laundry room floor with a toothbrush as punishment for wetting the bed was a good idea.

In the end, those girls broke my heart. I saw what they had the potential to be, and then saw where they decided to go. There were no happy endings, and I had to get out of there or lose my sanity.

Next, I worked as a state probation officer for ten years in what many would describe as a “ghetto.” Yes, it was interesting. My first office was in a store front, I had a window office that looked out on the street. I got to see strange, some might say sick, men park in their cars in front of the office and masturbate for entertainment. Once in a while, someone would be shooting at someone else on the street. I had a guy on probation who killed another guy because he cheated him spitting up some “loot” they stole. One who said it was OK to steal cars because he wore gloves, no fingerprints! Those who didn’t work, their vocation was finding their next “fix.” Those who fried their brains with phencyclidine or embalming fluid. Occasionally, someone would die of gunshot wounds crawling from an apartment complex to a hospital two blocks away.

We had some successes. Like the guy who made it through inpatient drug treatment, stayed clean and sober, got a job and got off supervision early. The guy who wore the gloves to steal cars who came back after he was off my caseload to tell me that maybe I wasn’t crazy when I told him his life would be easier if he got a job and stopped taking unscheduled vacations to jail.

I keep asking myself, was that be beginning of being a “thug?” I really don’t think our clients (they are now called offenders, but I still can’t use the word) considered me a thug. I had big, tough “criminals” apologize to me when I had to have them arrested. More than once, when I was out doing home visits and someone was hassling me, one of our “criminals” would tell the jerk, “That’s the parole lady, leave her alone.”

Eventually I had to leave. We didn’t have the resources to provide help for the folks who really needed it, and the ones who truly needed to be warehoused seemed to always be on the street, causing havoc.

I became a federal probation officer. That would be the place where I could make a real difference, right? Yeah, right. Now, thirty years after getting that college degree, I understand a little better what the criminal justice system can, and can’t, do.

People with mental health issues who don’t comply with treatment can’t be fixed. Sex offenders, pedophiles, in general, cannot be “cured.” I wanted to believe they could be fixed, but it just doesn’t seem to happen. There is no good alternative for the ones who are dangerous other than to warehouse them.

Bank robbers fall into two basic categories: career and stupid amateur. The career bank robbers can’t help themselves. They do their time, get out, and do it again. Weighing the average amount taken in a bank robbery against the penalties, it really makes no sense, but they do it. Over and over. The stupid amateur is generally a desperate fool, for whatever reason, who thinks he will obtain enough money to fix his problems. Never works out that way.

Drug dealers, well, I suspect we will have to agree to disagree here. People who discover it’s financially rewarding for a small effort end up preying on people and ruining lives. No, I don’t really see a difference between marijuana, alcohol, opiates, whatever. All of them have the potential for abuse, abuse leads to people who make very poor decisions, do very foolish things. If there were a way to remove all mood altering substances from the earth, I would probably support making that happen. Are our current drug laws particularly effective? No. I know prohibition didn’t really work, either, but until you come up with something that works better, it’s my position that we need those drug laws.

I’m trying to figure out which of the “criminals” I’ve dealt with over the past twenty years were the victims of the laws of the murderous and corrupt superpower. Maybe the folks who were bringing children here from other countries, and I mean pre-teens, as sex objects for folks who had the money? I was told the kids were living on the streets in their home countries and were happy to live in nice, clean American homes.

Perhaps the ones that had the prostitution/drug business? They paid the girls in drugs, sold drugs and “services” to their customers. Killed a few people along the way, too, but maybe that wasn’t important?

I know, it’s probably all of the convicted felons who get caught with firearms. Surely people who have broken other laws can be trusted with firearms?

Would it be the bank robbers? I was at a sentencing for a bank robber where the teller came in to make a statement at sentencing. She was so traumatized after being threatened by a man with a gun at her job, she was trembling as she addressed the defendant and the court. Did I mention that she was pregnant at the time of the robbery?

Surely it’s the fraud folks. The ones that prey on the elderly and steal the bulk of their savings. That is surely a law of a murderous and corrupt superpower. I remember cases where, by the time the “criminal” was caught, the victims were dead. Did the trauma of being swindled out of their life savings hasten their deaths.

Credit card fraud schemes, identity theft/fraud schemes, no big deal. Sooner or later, the victims will be able to prove they weren’t responsible for all of those monetary transactions, and they will be able to have their lives back. The businesses that are swindled, well, they can afford it. Right? Doesn’t matter that all of those costs get passed on to you, me, everyone.

Counterfeiting. That one isn’t a problem, right? Except for the businesses that end up with the fake money, they take the loss, which, again, gets passed on.

Illegal aliens. They are just poor people who want to have a better life in our country. Unfortunately, the ones I meet are usually also involved in drug trafficking or have had multiple convictions for assaultive behavior. (That would be beating on other people, often their girlfriends, sometimes their friends who disagreed with them, occasionally shooting, stabbing, whatever.) None of them are prosecuted simply because they are here illegally. They all have criminal records, and not for jaywalking. Of course, not all illegal aliens are criminals. The ones I come into contact with are.

Insurance fraud. Those evil insurance companies make so much money, it’s no big deal if they are one of the major reasons insurance rates are outrageous. Mortgage loan fraud, well, that’s just ripping off the government, right? (I met the government, they is us.)

I don’t currently supervise “offenders.” I do presentence investigations which means I also have to make recommendations about potential sentences. (It’s only a recommendation, judges are pretty smart people, believe it or not.) What do I consider when I make a recommendation? That could be a whole dissertation on its own. Briefly, we consider the nature of the offense; the person’s prior criminal record; any medical, mental health or substance abuse issues; and the support system available for the person in the community.

So, Accordion Man, if you, or anyone else, believe I am a thug 4 hire, that I help enforce the laws of a murderous and corrupt superpower, I make no apologies. I’ve helped people get the medical, mental health, or substance abuse treatment they needed; helped people find housing; helped people find employment; helped people obtain training/education; and mediated between family and folks on supervision. Back in the days when we were required to give our clients our home telephone numbers, I had one woman call me every evening for months to say “goodnight.” She called me her “other mother.”

I’ve also recommended that people who are truly dangerous remain in custody for the rest of their natural lives. After 30 years, I’m comfortable with either role.