The Kiss of Judas: When Criminal Justice Reform Embraces Our Stories but Rejects Our Leadership
When I was released from federal prison in 2020, I could not wait to become part of the nonprofit criminal justice reform sector.
I believed it was my duty to give back to the men and women who remained incarcerated. I wanted their voices to be heard when programs were created, policies were developed, legislation was discussed, and decisions were made about communities directly impacted by incarceration.
I came home believing that lived experience would be valued. I quickly learned that sometimes the embrace comes with a kiss. And sometimes, that kiss is the Kiss of Judas. In the biblical story, Judas did not betray Jesus from across the room. He betrayed him with a kiss an outward gesture of closeness that concealed something entirely different underneath. There is a similar contradiction happening within parts of the criminal justice and prison reform nonprofit sector.
Organizations say they value lived experience. They put formerly incarcerated people on panels. They put our faces in annual reports. They ask us to tell stories of the worst moments of our lives. They invite us to conferences to explain what prison did to us, what separation did to our children, what incarceration did to our families, and what it felt like to finally come home.
Our pain becomes powerful when it supports a campaign. Our stories become valuable when they support a grant. Our faces become important when an organization needs to demonstrate that directly impacted people are “at the table.” But what happens when we ask for more than a seat on a panel? What happens when we ask for the job? What happens when we want to control the budget, design the program, develop the policy agenda, lead the organization, conduct the research, or make decisions? Suddenly, lived experience isn't enough. Suddenly, we're told we don't have the right qualifications. That is the contradiction we need to talk about. Lived Experience Is Expertise.
There is an unspoken hierarchy within parts of this movement. The people who have actually lived inside prisons and returned home are frequently not the people with the greatest institutional power. Let me be very specific. I am talking about people who have lived inside prison cells. Not people who studied incarceration. There is knowledge that comes from navigating sentencing, prison policies, commissary, medical care, disciplinary systems, visitation, transfers, reentry, probation, employment discrimination, housing barriers, and the thousand other consequences that never make it into a textbook. That knowledge has value. Yet formerly incarcerated people are too often invited into nonprofit spaces primarily when our trauma is useful. Representation Without Power Is Not Liberation. To my formerly incarcerated and justice-impacted community: understand something. There is no authentic criminal justice reform movement without you. Why 13th Liberation Village Is Different. This is one of the reasons 13th Liberation Village exists. We are Black-led. We are justice-impacted-led. And our programs are intentionally centered around the leadership, knowledge and experiences of formerly incarcerated and justice-impacted people. We Are the Table. If there is a table where your lived experience is welcomed but your leadership is rejected, recognize the difference. And sometimes it is the Kiss of Judas. Know the difference. And if they refuse to make room for you at their table? Build your own. That is exactly what we did. 13th Liberation Village. Justice-impacted leadership. Community power. Liberation.