In America alone, more than 2 million people are incarcerated, millions more on probation or parole, and tens of millions more with a criminal record. What distinguishes us from them? What if there were no 'us' and 'them' when it came to criminal behavior? What if we all had, at one time or another, fallen short of a perfect, law-abiding life? Would that realization make us more open to rehabilitation and less inclined to imprisonment as the first recourse?

With her non-profit, "We Are All Criminals," Emily Baxter is working to dispel stereotypes and inspire empathy, disrupting the barriers that seemingly separate us. She urges listeners to recall a time when they might have strayed from the law:

"Perhaps the listeners today have recognized something of themselves from the stories that I've told, or perhaps through other memory triggers they've recalled past transgressions. So first, there's that -- recall what you've done, and it doesn't have to be something that you're ashamed of. It can be something that you're proud of. It can be something that's completely unmemorable. It can be something that you didn't even realize was an offense, but now thinking back on it you can see that if you viewed it with the lens of criminality, "Oh yeah. That's a felony." Then, take note of the context that you allow yourself when you are recalling that memory. "I was young. I was drunk. I was stupid. I was in a bad relationship. I gave it back anyway. It wasn't my idea. No one got hurt." Whatever that context is, recognize that it may have existed for somebody who was caught as well. Now it's not necessarily an excuse, but it is an opportunity to recognize that common humanity. Then take note of the privilege that you've experienced, be it race or class or gender or geography or era or luck, and acknowledge that not everybody has been able to benefit from that same privilege. Reflect upon how patently different your own life could be and recognize how drastically different life is for individuals who were caught."

As demonstrated by Ruprecht's work, it is never too early to consider restoration over retribution. In a classroom in Oakland, the administration used restorative justice over suspension, and what they discovered was astounding:

"They walked together to the restorative justice room. Slowly, the boy began to open up and share what was weighing on him. His mom, who had been successfully doing drug rehabilitation, had relapsed. She’d been out for three days. The 14-year-old was going home every night to a motherless household and two younger siblings. He had been holding it together as best he could, even getting his brother and sister breakfast and getting them off to school. He had his head down on the desk in class that day because he was exhausted from sleepless nights and worry.

"After the principal heard Tommy’s story, he said, “We were about to put this kid out of school, when what he really deserved was a medal.”

"Eric tracked down Tommy’s mother, did some prep work, and facilitated a restorative justice circle with her, Tommy, the teacher, and the principal. Using a technique borrowed from indigenous traditions, each had a turn with the talking piece, an object that has a special meaning to the group. It moves from person to person, tracing a circle. The person holding the talking piece is the only one talking, and the holder speaks with respect and from the heart."

An emphasis on restorative justice was key in arriving at a solution that gave voice to all parties and an outcome that caused growth and healing rather than punishment alone

To read more of Shari Swanson's article,  please click here.