Producing Hope

A few weeks ago, I participated in a conference in northern California with elected officials interested in making a positive impact on juvenile justice.

It was an amazing gathering where candid and honest conversations were held and people in various positions of influence committed themselves to working together to reform the justice system.

Immediately following the gathering, I attended the 40th birthday party of one of my favorite cousins.

I was particularly looking forward to spending time with my cousin Isaac who I grew up with and whom I hadn’t seen since my wedding almost two years ago.

Isaac is the son of a Vietnam veteran and someone whom I’ve always admired because he’s overcome many of life’s obstacles and is now preparing to become a father for the first time in three months.

With anticipation, I get to the party and don’t even recognize my cousin Isaac as he slowly walks through the door.

Seeing Isaac for the first time in two years, it was obvious that he had lost at least 60 pounds as his clothes were all but barely hanging onto his bones.

As such, I immediately went up to Isaac and held him tightly as I struggled to hold back my tears.

As the night progressed, I came to learn that Isaac had been fighting an addiction to meth for quite some time.

At that moment, the personal became political and the lines between my work, activism, and life became blurred.

At that moment, I realized that the reason why so many of us are rooted in compassion and forgiveness is the simple fact that we speak from a place of truth.

We do not make up stories of young people being pushed out of school and into prisons.

We do not make up stories of young people fighting addictions and becoming worse addicts while locked up in prison.

We do not make up these stories, because these are in fact our own stories.