30 Days a Year, Every Year
“We knew we couldn’t make it illegal to be either against the war or black, but by getting the public to associate the hippies with marijuana and blacks with heroin, and then criminalizing both heavily, we could disrupt those communities.”
- John Ehrlichman, Richard Nixon’s Domestic-Policy Adviser
In 1994, the true motives behind the seemingly altruistic “War on Drugs” were exposed long after Richard Nixon popularized the assault. Unfortunately, the legacy of such purposeful exclusion of marginalized peoples permeates today’s criminal justice system. Nearly 2 million people or 85% of the prison population in 2010 had substance abuse problems, a history of them, or were arrested for a crime with some connection to drugs or alcohol. In effect, this permits the incarceration of non-violent offenders for long periods of time without ensuring that they receive the help needed to combat their addiction. Such imprisonment doesn’t just legitimize the neglect of such people while they’re incarcerated, it does its best to guarantee that reintegrating into society is an obstacle for the rest of their lives.
One of the many people that fell victim to the flawed system is Ryan, a current resident at Dismas House. Dismas House is a reentry program where former prisoners work to rebuild their lives and rekindle hope for themselves and their families. It is here that Ryan began his recovery from drug addiction. Before that, he can recount going to jail at least once a year “30 days here, 60 days here” each time for crimes related to drugs or alcohol. His story is a testament to the dangerous intersection of recidivism and substance abuse problems as prison does little to combat the source of one’s crime. In his own words, “it’s a revolving door,” one that capitalizes off of the demise of those who need help the most.
In addition to the obstacles inherent to individuals recently released, drug addiction imposes an especially difficult barrier to reintegrating into society. Not only does the substance curb progress, the lifestyle to which a recovering addict is accustomed can no longer exist if one hopes to improve. This doesn’t merely entail the physical environment but also often includes the people that were closest to the person such as friends and/or family. As Ryan recognizes, “You have to change everything,” which sometimes includes cutting ties with everyone you grew up with or have been friends with for years. Under such drastic conditions, life after prison is hardly an end to one’s social and emotional anguish which necessitates re-entry initiatives..
Ryan’s current aspiration to become a “recovery coach” to help people overcome past addictions, indicates the extent to which a second chance can go far beyond helping one person. Re-entry programs supersede the plight that is recidivism, replacing the cycle of destruction with one of recovery. It is because of this prospect that we should seek to obliterate the lasting effects of the war on drugs and of the incessant barriers to reintegration that plague all of the people who are supposed to be done paying for their crimes.
If Ehrlichman’s words were merely indicative of only Richard Nixon’s “War on Drugs,” we could find solace in the progress that our nation has made. That, however, is not the case as Nixon’s model was reworded and masked so that it is not a war on drugs, but on the people that have historically been left on the outskirts of progress: the minorities, the poor, and the vulnerable.