Obselete

Prison Transformations: The System, the Prisoners, and Me by Stephen Chinlund ’51. Here is the story of an Episcopalian priest who is attracted to monastic life but finds a higher calling in helping the incarcerated find ways to transform their lives. In the early 60’s, he was hired at Saint Augustine’s Chapel on Henry Street, a satellite of Trinity Church. The neighborhood of the chapel, troubled by drug addiction and crime, led him to visit first Riker’s. His concern for prisoners grew and became central to his life’s work. In spite of much evidence to the contrary, Stephen maintained a firm belief that people are capable of transformation. In opposition to the harsh view that prisoners required disdain, a view prevalent among prison personnel, he maintained a fervent optimism and could point to some amazing results. From his start as a visitor, he continued to work with the system throughout the state of New York, convincing the powerful to try new approaches. By building a program called Network, which consisted of group meetings with a simple reliable format, he provided broken individuals a vehicle to view life a new way. At the meetings, the participants were invited to relate some positive, helpful behavior, to devise a plan for how they would deal with life on the outside, and then to reflect in silence. Here, of course, Stephen was influenced by his life as a student at Friends. Eventually, when the Commission of Corrections was formed to monitor prisons after the riot at Attica, Stephen was appointed by the governor to be Chairman. Stephen discusses the issues of crime, incarceration, rehabilitation and reentry to society with the complexity and thoughtfulness they deserve. His own bent toward introspection, especially in his comparative analysis of monasteries and prisons, is engrossing. This book stands as an inspiration for those working with seemingly immovable individuals: it seems that stubborn idealism can win out.

Edge of the Knife: Police Violence in the Americas by Paul Chevigny 50’s is the story of police abuse of power, whether unnecessary deadly force in the street or torture behind closed doors. Paul Chevigny examines police departments in Los Angeles and New York City in the US and then Sao Paulo Brazil, Buenos Aires Argentina, Kingston Jamaica, and Mexico City. For Los Angeles, the Rodney King beating in 1991, was a watershed event. The semi-military approach to policing had been largely free of scandal until that moment. That the public saw what happened created a sense of outrage and led to commissions which examined the sad fate of most civilian complaints. In LA complaints were rarely sustained and often the officers with the most complaints were the ones promoted. This book is deeply researched and though it came out in 1995, it seems to be very relevant today as institutional cultures are remarkably slow moving. Even with the ever-present cell phone cameras, the issues in the 90’s are still present. Paul provides a wealth of evidence about violence, its link with corruption (bribes and kickbacks), and the general inability of the departments to monitor themselves. He advocates for greater accountability particularly from civilian review boards. As troubling as his reporting on LA and NYC is, his details about what goes on in South America, Jamaica, and Mexico is exponentially more horrifying, where there is often no thought of the police as working for justice for the people. Tourists may not notice the frightening complicity between authorities and crime because private security forces are brought in to protect them. After reading this, I would not venture far from my hotel! Edge of the Knife is not a diatribe. It seeks to understand how sociological and psychological forces work. It contains much thought that would be helpful to blacklivesmatter.

Running Time: Films of the Cold War by Nora Sayre 60’s. The Fifties were a time when movies reflected and interacted with politics and international rivalry dominated American culture. The house on Un-American Activities Committee and the McCarthy investigations effected a cold war within the states. Film writers, actors and producers could find themselves blacklisted and unable to work until well into the Sixties. Nora Sayre captures the climate of the times as it is portrayed both directly and obliquely in the films of the era. Sharp-tongued in the manner of Dorothy Parker, Nora demolishes absurdities: “You can sometimes spot a Communist because his shadow looms larger and blacker than his adversary’s” (81). Nora shows that during World War II, Russia was depicted as a joyful, dancing country all dressed up in embroidered blouses. Soon after the war, the Soviet Union hit the screen as a bunch of murderous thugs. Hollywood felt the threat from Washington and produced anti-Soviet propaganda which was not always well received by the public. It turned out that the film had to be good in addition to being morally adjusted to the tenor of the times for the audience to respond. As the decade progressed, the movies turned toward domestic conflict. Nora heaps praise on On the Waterfront , and shows how pictures about such matters as father-son conflicts (vehicles for actors like James Dean) began to dominate the box office. Epics drawn from the Bible, like The Robe helped the populace find refuge at the cinema. So many of those fifties films I saw as a child. This fascinating book gave me a new perspective on an era I lived through. Here is a perceptive and often funny – in a devastating way – look at our recent past.