By Tara Dunn
“Going to prison is like dying with your eyes open.”-Bernard Kerik.
These are My Brothers, Uncles and Fathers
My second day on co-op, my supervisor and I visited the Washington, D.C. Central Detention Facility to see clients. Once we made it through security, the air got thicker and began to reek of sweat and rotten meat. As we rounded the corner, there were about 14 men in orange suits sitting along the wall, every single one of them African-American. I lagged behind my supervising attorney, making eye contact with every single man in there. I wasn’t staring at “criminals,” some shadowy villains starring in a scary, fireside tale. I was staring at men who looked like my father, brother, uncle, cousin, and grandfather.
I had a hard time holding myself together that first trip to the jail. I watched client after client, those who had previously…
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