Views in brief
Thrown behind bars for life
I HAVE a son who was 16 years old when he was sentenced to life in jail without the possibility of parole. This is a young man who had never been in trouble with law and who had been an honor-roll student. Even today, he has made the president's list in college while incarcerated.
He was sentenced to life because he would not take plea deal. His cousin, who was 21 at the time, committed the murder and took a plea because he was facing the death plenty. I feel sentencing these young men to this kind of time is unfair and unjust--especially when the district attorney knows who committed the murder.
My son knows that not coming forward after the event took place put him in a position that he has to pay for his part in. However, I don't feel he needs to spend his whole life in jail and miss out on his only son, who is now three years old. To take someone's whole life and put him behind bars for someone else's crime is so unfair.
Theresa Able, Charlotte, N.C.
Support Victor Agosto
REGARDING "REFUSING to go to Afghanistan": If folks support this courageous resister, they should be encouraged to donate to Victor Agosto's legal defense fund at the Courage to Resist Web site.
Jeff Paterson, Courage to Resist project director, Oakland, Calif.
Denied a chance to make a difference
REGARDING "WASHINGTON'S chancellor of union busting": I graduated April 30 of this year from Florida Atlantic University's College of Education with my BA in Secondary Education. All of my volunteer teaching hours, my internship and student teaching assignment have been at public schools where the student body closely mirrors Washington, D.C.'s, demographics and socioeconomic standing.
I was born in Gaithersburg, Md., and I have dear family in Rockville and Germantown. I started seriously considering teaching in D.C. two years ago. I found an opportunity Teach for America (TFA) was offering, I was willing to teach anywhere in the country that needs young and enthusiastic teachers.
However, it soon appeared that what TFA was doing was filtering recent college graduates (who have not spent their time, energy and financial resources on a college education meant to enter the public teaching profession) ideally into charter schools. So I became disillusioned with TFA.
My application to the D.C. Public Schools didn't get to far. I was informed recently that they have decided not to offer me an interview or a chance at making a serious difference in the D.C. community and schools. This is painful, because I know a less-committed group of TFA "teachers" will be filling classrooms that I have the credentials and drive to transform.
If we take anything from these events and the history of D.C.'s public schools, let us not waste all of our time obsessing with the figureheads (Michelle Rhee and Mayor Adrian Fenty) who act as commissars to the goal of further subjecting the children of D.C. to poor conditions of life and education.
How can Rhee and Fenty grasp the needs of D.C.'s school kids when they follow in-step with objectives laid down by people like New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg?
How does a billionaire understand the needs of the fighting poor?
Patrick Van Scyoc, Fort Lauderdale, Fla.
Standing witness to murder
I ATTENDED the state-sponsored murder of Thomas Ivey in Columbia, S.C., on May 8.
I am a new resident of Columbia, and was surprised to see so few people protesting the 1,161st execution in the United States since the death penalty was reinstated in 1977.
The night before, six people, including myself, attended a candlelight vigil at the governor's mansion. None of us expected a pardon from Gov. Mark Sanford, but we knew we needed to be there. In the days leading up to the state-sponsored murder, Ivey spoke to Margaret, a fellow protester, and was surprised that anyone would be holding a vigil.
I learned more about the history of state-sponsored murder in South Carolina from veterans of the abolition movement. When I saw people at a firearms store across the street sitting on the dropped tailgate of their pick-up truck, I asked a fellow protester names Bucky who they might be. He explained that they were probably counter-protesters. "Pretty soon," he said, "they'll be eating chicken."
I did not understand this comment and I could not get clarification, because the corrections officers told us to keep moving. It was against the law for us to stand in one place. We got plenty of exercise moving up and down the sidewalk in front of the chamber where the murder was scheduled.
When Bucky and I crossed paths again I learned that this event used to be held at 4 a.m., and that death penalty supporters would bring food and have a cookout as if they were attending a football game. Their numbers have certainly dwindled; apparently so have ours.
I am glad only four people showed up on the other side, compared to our 12. We got about 30 honks of approval that night, compared to only a few thumbs down and middle fingers. This was encouraging--if that is a word that can be used just before a prisoner is scheduled to die.
After marching, we stood silent inside a roped-off area and waited. Two men approached us and read a prepared statement explaining that Ivey had been murdered and pronounced dead at 6:15 a.m.. We bowed our heads, Margaret said some words of consolation, and we crossed the street to our vehicles.
A state trooper was standing in the middle of the road; his cruiser's lights flashed blue. We waited as the hearse pulled out of the death chamber's driveway; the counter-protesters smoked cigarettes, clapped and whistled.
They made themselves noticed, but so did we.
Marc LaFleche, Columbia, S.C.
