A Mother’s Plea 

For most of my life I paid little attention to our criminal legal system. Like most Americans, I naively believed that the system was equitable, with people who commit crimes getting what they rightly deserve at the hands of prosecutors dedicated to pursuing justice in a way that is fair.  

Now that my family has been caught up in that very system for the past three years, I’ve come to realize how blind I was to it I was -- especially about local prosecutors and the power they wield over peoples’ lives. I’ve come to learn that the main goal of nearly all prosecutors is not to seek justice, but instead to push for convictions no matter the collateral damage for all involved. This philosophy and prosecutorial conduct are fueling the mass incarceration problem we face today in the United States.  

As pointed out in the ACLU report Unlocking the Black Box, which makes the compelling case that we need to demand more transparency from our prosecutors as one key way to begin changing a system that has clearly failed, our country now has nearly 25 percent of the world’s jail and prison populations despite having less than 5 percent of the world's population. We have more people behind bars than anywhere else on the planet.  

My son Gabe is one of them.  

My family’s interaction with the criminal legal system began in 2017 when Gabe (then 24) was arrested for having eight pictures on his phone that he’d taken of two adolescent boys’ genitals. Gabe did not sell these pictures. He did not put them on the internet. The pictures were only on his phone. I’m not saying Gabe was innocent of any wrongdoing. He committed a crime, and deserved to be held accountable. Throughout the process there was not one minute that Gabe did not take responsibility for his actions. But none of this mattered to the Grand Traverse County Prosecutor. It was truly shocking and deeply disturbing to see the vengeance with which she went after Gabe. In that regard, justice was definitely not served.  

I say that because after he was arrested, Gabe – who attended the University of Michigan with plans of c becoming a doctor – began seeing a counselor. After some time in therapy, what emerged was that Gabe himself was a victim of many sexual assaults. First at age 11, when he was molested repeatedly by a teenage boy who lived in our neighborhood. Second by a trusted friend when he was in high school. And lastly in the later years of college when he was a victim of a violent assault. The trauma of these assaults and molestations, which Gabe kept to himself because of the shame he felt, affected him deeply.   

As I said, Gabe never told us what happened to him. Others did not notice any difference in his behavior. He continued to be a leader among his peers, remained fun and outgoing around others, and never got into any trouble. But, as a mother, I could tell that something had changed. I could see him becoming more withdrawn, but never pressed him to tell me what was going on. Looking back, I wish I had. Maybe we wouldn’t be where we are today if I did. One of the things the counselor explained was that Gabe’s behavior as an adult was directly related to the abuse that he suffered as a child and the ongoing trauma of his early adulthood.   

The counselor expressed with certainty that, with treatment, Gabe’s illegal behavior would become an aberration that would not be repeated. He needed help, not a lengthy prison sentence, the counselor said. To this day we support Gabe’s treatment and provide access to continue his relationship with his counselor by setting up phone appointments for them to work on his treatment. His progress has been truly amazing.  

Gabe is not a monster; he certainly didn’t deserve to be treated as one. But the prosecution clearly felt the need to create the image of a “monster” to get a conviction. Sadly, our local county prosecutor would believe none of what the counselor mentioned would be possible. In fact, rather than trying to see Gabe as a person suffering from the abuse he’d experienced while just a child, his case was methodically pursued to inflict the harshest punishment possible. The prosecutor viewed my son as a crime and a criminal, not a person. By not assessing my son individually to see why this happened, and to find alternatives to help both the person who was offended and the person who did the offense, she unilaterally ignored these options. Gabe could have been charged with a lesser crime carrying much less severe penalties. Spending much of his life in prison could have been avoided, with time spent in the county jail being the punishment, and continued counseling a requirement. But the prosecutor would have none of that.  

This shows the sweeping power of prosecutors: The ability to choose which crimes a suspect will be charged with, and what penalties to pursue. In Gabe’s case, lesser charges could have been applied, shaving years off his sentence, and possibly resulting in no prison time at all. Instead of showing compassion and a sense of fairness, our prosecutor pursued charges that generated media attention but certainly didn’t serve justice. 

Making a hellish situation even worse, the federal government was tipped off and decided to prosecute Gabe as well. He was convicted of both state and federal charges, with the latter being much harsher. Fortunately, a judge agreed to allow the sentences to be served concurrently. That was the only decision even close to a break that he got. Even so, Gabe is facing the grim prospect of serving a minimum of 15 years in a federal prison. Now 27, he will be a middle-aged man by the time he regains his freedom.  

Even though we are more than three years into this ordeal, all this remains painfully difficult for me to talk about. But I feel compelled to speak out because change must be made if we are going to have a justice system worthy of its name.   

One change that we, as voters, can demand is the quality of the prosecutors we elect – the vastly powerful official who decides who to charge, what to charge, and ultimately how many people end up sitting behind bars. I can tell you from experience that we should be demanding compassion and empathy from our prosecutors, and not just for the victims of crimes, but also for people accused of committing them, because life circumstances are complicated and must not be ignored.   

Coercing pleas, winning convictions, and pushing for harsh prison sentences does not equate to justice. Real justice means breaking down the complicated, and working to arrive at a place where fairness, not retribution and punishment, is accomplished. Real justice is smart for our communities, smart for our safety, and smart for our families who are also doing “time” with their loved ones.  

One thing that gives me hope that is the sense that our society is undergoing profound changes. As the COVID-19 pandemic continues to spread, making us all feel vulnerable – especially those locked behind bars unable to social distance and protect themselves, and protestors continue to take to the streets in the wake of George Floyd’s tragic murder at the hands of police – people everywhere are opening their eyes to the need for the fundamental transformation of our criminal legal system.   

One way to help bring that about is for all of us to begin putting pressure on our local prosecutors to increase transparency. In that regard, I wholeheartedly agree with the ACLU that people everywhere start demanding that prosecutors embrace reform by taking these actions:  

• Systematically gather and publish quarterly statistics on race, ethnicity, and gender of defendants along with information about charging decisions, convictions, deferred prosecutions, and diversion program placements.   
• Create a Conviction Integrity Unit that reviews innocence claims, due process violations, corrupt law enforcement practices, and excessive sentences.   
• Implement a policy of open file discovery through which defendants or their attorneys have timely access to the prosecutor’s entire files.   
• Create a community advisory board that represents impacted communities including immigrant communities, formerly incarcerated communities, communities of color, and the LGBTQ+ community to determine the priorities of the prosecutor’s office.   
• Publish all office policies and protocols online.  

This type of transparency is an essential step toward ending mass incarceration policies that have locked up millions of people, ripping them away from their families, and shattering neighborhoods throughout Michigan. It is imperative to collect and analyze information on how prosecutors contribute to these harms to hold them accountable and to design solutions to reverse the crisis we face.  

I believe people are finally starting to see the massive need to dismantle our system of mass incarceration. At least I pray that is the case. And if you think none of this matters because you or a loved one will never get caught up in the system, all I can say is that I once thought the very same thing.  

With lives hanging in the balance, time is running out for the Michigan Legislature to pass a bill desperately needed to protect people throughout the state—especially during a global pandemic.  

Right now, the Water Shut Off Protection Act (Senate Bill 241) is before state lawmakers, who are wrapping up their 2020 session in just a few days. This legislation, if passed, would keep water on across the state through the end of March for people who can’t afford to pay their bill. Water shutoffs endanger people and the communities they live in during the best of times. But during the COVID-19 crisis, which can be stemmed in part by frequent handwashing, keeping water flowing into homes is essential. 

If the Legislature fails to act before the current session ends on December 17, one of the people whose well-being could be placed in jeopardy is Detroit homeowner Jacqueline Taylor.  

In 2016, Ms. Taylor, who is retired and lives on $860 a month in Social Security payments, was placed in a rehabilitation center for a lengthy stay following hip replacement surgery. After returning home, Ms. Taylor received a bill from DWSD for water usage totaling about 75,000 gallons while she was away – despite the fact that no one was living in her home and no water was being used. In mid-2018, with the city claiming she owed nearly $6,000 in arrearages, her water was cut off. She struggled to survive for nearly two years on store-bought bottled water and water delivered to her by a local nonprofit group. 

Ms. Taylor’s water service was finally restored in March when Gov. Gretchen Whitmer, responding to the COVID-19 crisis, issued an executive order halting shutoffs throughout the state and mandating that service be restored to people who had previously lost service. 

“To mitigate the spread of COVID-19, protect the public health, and avoid needless deaths, it is crucial that all Michiganders remain in their homes or residences to the greatest extent possible and wash their hands thoroughly and regularly. Now more than ever, the provision of clean water to residences is essential to human health and hygiene, and to the public health and safety of this state,” Gov. Whitmer stated in the order.  

In July, she issued a new order that extended the moratorium on shutoffs through the end of this year. However, in a 4-3 ruling issued by the Michigan Supreme Court in October, the court determined that Gov. Whitmer had violated her constitutional authority by continuing to issue orders to combat COVID-19 without the Legislature’s approval. 

While the governor’s authority has been reined in, the coronavirus’ reign of terror continues. This Wednesday, Michigan officials reported 9,350 new cases and 93 additional deaths, bringing the death toll statewide to 9,947. 

Just as COVID-19 knows no bounds, the prospect of water shut offs isn’t limited to cities like Detroit where Ms. Taylor lives. 

“According to data reported to DHHS [Department of Health and Human Services] by municipal water systems, water bills for 317,631 households throughout the state had fallen into arrears since March 1, 2020. Based upon an average household size of 2.49 per household, this equates to approximately 800,000 Michiganders — or about 8 percent of the state’s population — who are water insecure,” Janet Meissner Pritchard, interim legal director for the Traverse City-based nonprofit group FLOW, reported in an October blog. 

Highlighting the far-reaching threat resumption of shut offs poses to communities throughout the state, a “16-member assembly of water rights, social justice and environmental organizations and impacted Michigan residents urged Michigan’s Senators to take up and pass, as soon as possible, a bill that would protect public health by ensuring access to clean water and sanitation for all during a global pandemic,” according to a posting on the Michigan Environmental Council’s web site. 

“This is not just a single-city issue; this is an issue across the state, from city centers to suburbs to small towns and villages,” wrote Charlotte Jameson, program director for drinking water, legislative affairs and energy for Michigan Environmental Council. “When water is shut off, not only can people not drink, bathe or wash their hands, they can be exposed to water contamination from corroded and damaged residential plumbing systems due to disuse.” 

The Water Shut Off Protection Act would require water utilities to turn water service back on to all customers and reinstate the moratorium on shutoffs. Immediate passage of the legislation is crucial. It is, however, only a stopgap measure as it would expire March 31. 

READ LETTER TO MICHIGAN SENATORS URGING THEM TO PASS THE WATER SHUT OFF PROTECTION ACT

Although the passage of this legislation is crucial, as my colleague Mark Fancher pointed out in an opinion piece published in the Detroit Free Press earlier this year, the same logic that dictates water should keep flowing to protect public health during the coronavirus outbreak needs to be adhered to at all times: 

“While the toll taken by COVID-19 brings a centuries-old scientific fact to the forefront of our thinking, the same science applied before the current outbreak. And it will certainly apply once this pandemic is finally behind us.”  

That is why the ACLU of Michigan, working with a coalition of civil rights organizations, filed a class action lawsuit in federal court in July to make water affordable for all Detroiters, and to permanently end water shutoffs in the city. 

At the core of that lawsuit is a proposed mandate that would link water rates to a household’s income. Something as essential to life – and public health – as water should not be restricted to only those who are financially well-off. Tying rates to income is the only way to assure water remains affordable for everyone. 

That’s a concept Ms. Taylor, who is a named plaintiff in our class action lawsuit, fully supports.  

“If my water were to be shut off now, it would put me in a truly dire situation,” she says. “But I am just one of many, many people dealing with the issue of being able to afford something that is absolutely vital  to the  health of all of us. We all need water to wash our bodies, and we all need water to stay alive. That is why it needs to be affordable for everyone.” 

She is praying that happens.  

The immediate concern, however, is that no one loses access to water while this deadly pandemic continues to rage. For that to happen, the Michigan legislature must take immediate action and pass the Water Shut Off Protection Act.  Please help us send a message to state lawmakers: Water is a human right, pass the Water Shut Off Protection Act now.

Tell Michigan lawmakers: Pass the Water Shut Off Protection Act now