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Locking Up Our Own: Winner of the Pulitzer Prize
Winner of the 2018 Pulitzer Prize for General Non-Fiction
Longlisted for the National Book Award
One of the New York Times Book Review's 10 Best Books of 2017
Former public defender James Forman, Jr. is a leading critic of mass incarceration and its disproportionate impact on people of colour. In Locking Up Our Own, he seeks to understand the war on crime that began in the 1970s and why it was supported by many African American leaders in the nation's urban centres.
Forman shows us that the first substantial cohort of black mayors, judges and police chiefs took office amid a surge in crime and drug addiction. Many prominent black officials, including Washington, DC mayor Marion Barry and federal prosecutor Eric Holder, feared that the gains of the civil rights movement were being undermined by lawlessness - and thus embraced tough-on-crime measures, including longer sentences and aggressive police tactics. In the face of skyrocketing murder rates and the proliferation of open-air drug markets, they believed they had no choice. But the policies they adopted would have devastating consequences for residents of poor black neighbourhoods.
A former public defender, Forman tells riveting stories of politicians, community activists, police officers, defendants and crime victims. He writes with compassion about individuals trapped in terrible dilemmas - from the men and women he represented in court to officials struggling to respond to a public safety emergency. Locking Up Our Own enriches our understanding of why American society became so punitive and offers important lessons to anyone concerned about the future of race and the criminal justice system.
322 pages, Kindle Edition
First published April 18, 2017
614 people are currently reading
19064 people want to read
About the author
James Forman Jr.
3 books103 followersJames Forman Jr. is one of the nation’s leading authorities on race, education, and the criminal justice system, and a tireless advocate for young people who others have written off.
Forman attended Yale Law School, and after he graduated, worked as a law clerk for Judge William Norris of the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals and Justice Sandra Day O’Connor of the U.S. Supreme Court. After clerking, he took a job at the Public Defender Service in Washington, D.C., where for six years he represented juveniles and adults in felony and misdemeanor cases.
Forman loved being a public defender, but he quickly became frustrated with the lack of education and job training opportunities for his clients. So in 1997, along with David Domenici, he started the Maya Angelou Public Charter School, an alternative school for dropouts and youth who had previously been arrested. The Maya Angelou school has been open for almost twenty years, and in that time has helped hundreds of vulnerable young people find a second chance, begin to believe in themselves, graduate, get jobs, and attend college.
At Yale Law School, where has taught since 2011, Forman teaches Constitutional Law and a course called Race, Class, and Punishment. Last year he took his teaching behind prison walls, offering a seminar called Inside-Out Prison Exchange: Issues in Criminal Justice, which brought together, in the same classroom, 10 Yale Law students and 10 men incarcerated in a CT prison.
Forman’s first book Locking Up Our Own: Crime and Punishment in Black America is a Washington Post bestseller and a New York Times Editor’s Choice. It has been called “superb and shattering” in the New York Times, “eloquent” and “sobering” in the London Review of Books, and “moving, nuanced, and candid” in the New York Review of Books. On Twitter, New York Times book reviewer Jennifer Senior called Locking Up Our Own “the best book I’ve read this year.”
Forman attended Yale Law School, and after he graduated, worked as a law clerk for Judge William Norris of the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals and Justice Sandra Day O’Connor of the U.S. Supreme Court. After clerking, he took a job at the Public Defender Service in Washington, D.C., where for six years he represented juveniles and adults in felony and misdemeanor cases.
Forman loved being a public defender, but he quickly became frustrated with the lack of education and job training opportunities for his clients. So in 1997, along with David Domenici, he started the Maya Angelou Public Charter School, an alternative school for dropouts and youth who had previously been arrested. The Maya Angelou school has been open for almost twenty years, and in that time has helped hundreds of vulnerable young people find a second chance, begin to believe in themselves, graduate, get jobs, and attend college.
At Yale Law School, where has taught since 2011, Forman teaches Constitutional Law and a course called Race, Class, and Punishment. Last year he took his teaching behind prison walls, offering a seminar called Inside-Out Prison Exchange: Issues in Criminal Justice, which brought together, in the same classroom, 10 Yale Law students and 10 men incarcerated in a CT prison.
Forman’s first book Locking Up Our Own: Crime and Punishment in Black America is a Washington Post bestseller and a New York Times Editor’s Choice. It has been called “superb and shattering” in the New York Times, “eloquent” and “sobering” in the London Review of Books, and “moving, nuanced, and candid” in the New York Review of Books. On Twitter, New York Times book reviewer Jennifer Senior called Locking Up Our Own “the best book I’ve read this year.”
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 585 reviews
August 3, 2018
Inundated with information in the best possible way, I feel like I took an entire class rather than simply reading one book.
January 28, 2018
This is a really important book that complicates the dominant narrative on crime espoused in books like the new jim crow and others. It adds more nuance and it shows how the black community participated in raising the stakes for crimes. Forman is a public defender in DC and son of the SNCC Forman. He knows what he's talking about, his history is fascinating, and the stories are heartbreaking. Even if you think you know everything about this issue, don't skip this one.
October 11, 2020
Forman looks at the story behind the laws and practices that resulted in America’s mass incarceration of African Americans. He focuses on black led city governments, police and activist organizations which were responding to the rapid rise in street drugs and accompanying violence beginning in the late 1960s. Black leaders supported the harsh sentences and invasive searches that were implemented from the 1970s to the 1990s. Although white led jurisdictions and the federal government were also adopting draconian sentencing practices, black leaders gained control of America’s largest cities having a particularly significant impact. 90% of people in prison in the U.S. are in state or local prisons. At the time these laws were seen as a way to stop violent crime, not fill prisons, an unintended consequence.
Forman was a public defender in Washington, D.C. in the 1990s. He concentrates on D.C. which had acquired Home Rule in the 1970s with a black mayor, majority black city council, majority black population and a very influential group of black church leaders. He also refers to the black mayors of Atlanta and Detroit and leaders of black civil rights groups to show the consensus of opinion of black leadership. Forman describes the eruption of drug abuse in the 1960s. Heroin addiction soared in the late sixties. Marijuana was seen by many as a gateway drug. The black response had historical roots. Many blacks saw the drug epidemic as being driven by whites to weaken the black community, to destroy black youth. In D.C. some blacks and most whites wanted to make marijuana possession punishable by a ticket and fine, eliminating the stigma of arrest and jail for offenders. But they lost out to black leaders who wanted to stop drug abuse in its tracks by maintaining stiff penalties for marijuana and other drugs.
Gun possession met with similar logic. In 1976 Washington D.C. banned the possession of guns, a popular decision with both black and white residents. Crime was out of control and residents were scared. However, penalties were light to keep Congress from interfering, and guns were always readily available outside the city. Similar measures were proposed in other black led cities. With a history of violence by white vigilantes against blacks, many saw gun possession as an essential protection. But in the sixties and seventies urban violence against blacks was primarily committed by blacks. Gun prohibitions turned out to be ineffective and were followed by increased maximum and mandatory minimum sentences for crimes committed with guns. Increasingly blacks, predominately the poor, would be incarcerated for far longer terms.
Forman gives us a short history of the rise of black police. In Atlanta in 1946, a city with a large black population, there were no black police officers. As the civil rights movement pushed forward following WWII blacks were increasingly able to become police officers in many large cities. It began slowly and with many restrictions on black officers, but by the 1970s there were black police captains and even chiefs. Black civil rights leaders thought black leadership of the police would stop the problem of police brutality toward black offenders and help bring peace to black communities suffering from crime. It didn’t work that way. Most black police officers were there for a job, not civil rights advocacy. They didn’t see black people as needing special breaks and often were harsher than white police. They saw simple crimes like public drunkenness and disorderly conduct as a reflection on the black race, whereas a white officer might see it as expected behavior and ignore it in a poor black community.
In 1982 D. C. passed initiative 9, which detailed increased maximums and mandatory minimums for drug offenses. The initiative carried by a wide majority of blacks and whites. Most black city leaders including black police were firmly behind the initiative. Crime was rampant, but prison not treatment was seen by the local community as the answer. Forman points out that citizen complaints about drug paraphernalia littering streets and alleys always ended up at the police. People did not look to expanded treatment as a solution. He notes “When we ask ourselves how America became the world’s greatest jailer, it is natural to focus on bright shiny objects: national campaigns, federal legislation, executive orders from the Oval Office. But we should train our eyes, also, on more mundane decisions and directives, many of which took place on the local level. Which agency director did a public official enlist in response to citizen complaints about used syringes in back alleys? Such small choices, made daily, over time, in every corner of our nation, are the bricks that built our prison nation.”
In the late 1980s and early 1990s the crack epidemic and the related violence grew exponentially. The murder rate in cities like D.C. soared. D.C. instituted Operation Clean Sweep where officers raided drug market street corners throwing everyone against the wall and throwing everything in their pockets on the street. Other cities adopted similar programs, but these didn’t slow down the murder rate or stop drug sales. Congress established ever higher mandatory minimum sentences. In Forman’s words, “The process was often as hurried as the outcomes were draconian. Instead of holding public hearings and soliciting expert testimony n proposed legislation, members of congress engaged in a bipartisan bidding war to raise the penalties ever higher.” “The nation’s urban centers exercised their own power – especially when it came to policing.” “And African Americans…featured prominently in many municipal governments. By 1990, for example, there were 130 black police chiefs nationwide, including the top cops in D.C., New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Detroit, Chicago, and Houston. There were also more than 300 African American mayors, including those in D.C., New York, Los Angeles, Philadelphia, Detroit, Baltimore, Atlanta, and Oakland. The words and deeds of these black law enforcement officials and politicians…are crucial to explaining why and how the war [on drugs] developed as it did in American cities.”
In 1995 future Obama Attorney General Eric Holder became the first African American to serve as U.S. Attorney of the District of Columbia. That year he announced Operation Ceasefire. This was the motor vehicle version of New York City’s stop and frisk for pedestrians, implemented that same year. Its goal was to find guns by stopping drivers for any one of many minor offenses including following too closely, windows tinted too darkly, changing lanes without a turn signal, and on and on. The police would then ask to search the car for weapons. Over 90% of people would say yes, although the police may not have always asked. Just looking through the windows, the police might find probable cause to search. Of course most of the stops were in the poor black areas of D.C. The program did find more guns, but a lot of cars had to be stopped. The biggest find was drugs and this hit blacks in the poorest communities disproportionately hard. While there was good justification for not stopping cars to search for guns in upscale white neighborhoods where very few murders occurred, car searches in white areas would have uncovered more drugs just as in black areas. Many whites as well as blacks had a small stash of marijuana in their car. Even an arrest that was dismissed for a token amount of marijuana kept people from getting jobs. And many would end up in jail and not be able to post bail and lose their jobs. Those convicted could expect a stiff sentence. The D.C. police department was majority black and it was primarily black officers making the stops. The police avoided well off black neighborhoods where crime was lower and residents often had connections to city and police leaders.
D.C. decriminalized marijuana in 2014. Black leaders had reversed their view of two decades earlier. Drug related murders had declined by 83% from 2000. The reasons are endlessly argued: tough crime measures, aging of the population, reduction of childhood lead exposure, the decline of crack, and on. The toll in incarceration remained. In eleven states more than 1 in 20 black men were in prison. Also technology advances meant that arrest records were readily available to employers, credit agencies and others. Forman holds that a focus only on low level non-violent offenders will not remedy the problem of mass incarceration. Only a tiny percentage of those incarcerated are there for marijuana possession, although 20% are there on drug related charges. Forman points out that even if that 20% were released, America would still have more people in prison than any other country in the world. He points out how exceedingly difficult it is to find rehabilitation programs for violent offenders in lieu of prison. He details a case he handled of a minor who robbed a man at a bus stop threatening him with a knife. Forman reached out to the victim to support giving the boy a another chance. It was his first offence. He was fifteen. Forman found a unique education program that would take the boy and teach him carpentry which he had aptitude for. Such programs usually denied those charged with violent crimes. Then Forman asked the victim to come to court and tell the judge he wanted to give the boy a second chance. Amazingly the judge agreed and put him on probation. Years later Forman ran into the defendant who was working on a construction crew. He had completed the program and entered the work force. If convicted and sent to prison he would have been another life lost.
Forman was a public defender in Washington, D.C. in the 1990s. He concentrates on D.C. which had acquired Home Rule in the 1970s with a black mayor, majority black city council, majority black population and a very influential group of black church leaders. He also refers to the black mayors of Atlanta and Detroit and leaders of black civil rights groups to show the consensus of opinion of black leadership. Forman describes the eruption of drug abuse in the 1960s. Heroin addiction soared in the late sixties. Marijuana was seen by many as a gateway drug. The black response had historical roots. Many blacks saw the drug epidemic as being driven by whites to weaken the black community, to destroy black youth. In D.C. some blacks and most whites wanted to make marijuana possession punishable by a ticket and fine, eliminating the stigma of arrest and jail for offenders. But they lost out to black leaders who wanted to stop drug abuse in its tracks by maintaining stiff penalties for marijuana and other drugs.
Gun possession met with similar logic. In 1976 Washington D.C. banned the possession of guns, a popular decision with both black and white residents. Crime was out of control and residents were scared. However, penalties were light to keep Congress from interfering, and guns were always readily available outside the city. Similar measures were proposed in other black led cities. With a history of violence by white vigilantes against blacks, many saw gun possession as an essential protection. But in the sixties and seventies urban violence against blacks was primarily committed by blacks. Gun prohibitions turned out to be ineffective and were followed by increased maximum and mandatory minimum sentences for crimes committed with guns. Increasingly blacks, predominately the poor, would be incarcerated for far longer terms.
Forman gives us a short history of the rise of black police. In Atlanta in 1946, a city with a large black population, there were no black police officers. As the civil rights movement pushed forward following WWII blacks were increasingly able to become police officers in many large cities. It began slowly and with many restrictions on black officers, but by the 1970s there were black police captains and even chiefs. Black civil rights leaders thought black leadership of the police would stop the problem of police brutality toward black offenders and help bring peace to black communities suffering from crime. It didn’t work that way. Most black police officers were there for a job, not civil rights advocacy. They didn’t see black people as needing special breaks and often were harsher than white police. They saw simple crimes like public drunkenness and disorderly conduct as a reflection on the black race, whereas a white officer might see it as expected behavior and ignore it in a poor black community.
In 1982 D. C. passed initiative 9, which detailed increased maximums and mandatory minimums for drug offenses. The initiative carried by a wide majority of blacks and whites. Most black city leaders including black police were firmly behind the initiative. Crime was rampant, but prison not treatment was seen by the local community as the answer. Forman points out that citizen complaints about drug paraphernalia littering streets and alleys always ended up at the police. People did not look to expanded treatment as a solution. He notes “When we ask ourselves how America became the world’s greatest jailer, it is natural to focus on bright shiny objects: national campaigns, federal legislation, executive orders from the Oval Office. But we should train our eyes, also, on more mundane decisions and directives, many of which took place on the local level. Which agency director did a public official enlist in response to citizen complaints about used syringes in back alleys? Such small choices, made daily, over time, in every corner of our nation, are the bricks that built our prison nation.”
In the late 1980s and early 1990s the crack epidemic and the related violence grew exponentially. The murder rate in cities like D.C. soared. D.C. instituted Operation Clean Sweep where officers raided drug market street corners throwing everyone against the wall and throwing everything in their pockets on the street. Other cities adopted similar programs, but these didn’t slow down the murder rate or stop drug sales. Congress established ever higher mandatory minimum sentences. In Forman’s words, “The process was often as hurried as the outcomes were draconian. Instead of holding public hearings and soliciting expert testimony n proposed legislation, members of congress engaged in a bipartisan bidding war to raise the penalties ever higher.” “The nation’s urban centers exercised their own power – especially when it came to policing.” “And African Americans…featured prominently in many municipal governments. By 1990, for example, there were 130 black police chiefs nationwide, including the top cops in D.C., New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Detroit, Chicago, and Houston. There were also more than 300 African American mayors, including those in D.C., New York, Los Angeles, Philadelphia, Detroit, Baltimore, Atlanta, and Oakland. The words and deeds of these black law enforcement officials and politicians…are crucial to explaining why and how the war [on drugs] developed as it did in American cities.”
In 1995 future Obama Attorney General Eric Holder became the first African American to serve as U.S. Attorney of the District of Columbia. That year he announced Operation Ceasefire. This was the motor vehicle version of New York City’s stop and frisk for pedestrians, implemented that same year. Its goal was to find guns by stopping drivers for any one of many minor offenses including following too closely, windows tinted too darkly, changing lanes without a turn signal, and on and on. The police would then ask to search the car for weapons. Over 90% of people would say yes, although the police may not have always asked. Just looking through the windows, the police might find probable cause to search. Of course most of the stops were in the poor black areas of D.C. The program did find more guns, but a lot of cars had to be stopped. The biggest find was drugs and this hit blacks in the poorest communities disproportionately hard. While there was good justification for not stopping cars to search for guns in upscale white neighborhoods where very few murders occurred, car searches in white areas would have uncovered more drugs just as in black areas. Many whites as well as blacks had a small stash of marijuana in their car. Even an arrest that was dismissed for a token amount of marijuana kept people from getting jobs. And many would end up in jail and not be able to post bail and lose their jobs. Those convicted could expect a stiff sentence. The D.C. police department was majority black and it was primarily black officers making the stops. The police avoided well off black neighborhoods where crime was lower and residents often had connections to city and police leaders.
D.C. decriminalized marijuana in 2014. Black leaders had reversed their view of two decades earlier. Drug related murders had declined by 83% from 2000. The reasons are endlessly argued: tough crime measures, aging of the population, reduction of childhood lead exposure, the decline of crack, and on. The toll in incarceration remained. In eleven states more than 1 in 20 black men were in prison. Also technology advances meant that arrest records were readily available to employers, credit agencies and others. Forman holds that a focus only on low level non-violent offenders will not remedy the problem of mass incarceration. Only a tiny percentage of those incarcerated are there for marijuana possession, although 20% are there on drug related charges. Forman points out that even if that 20% were released, America would still have more people in prison than any other country in the world. He points out how exceedingly difficult it is to find rehabilitation programs for violent offenders in lieu of prison. He details a case he handled of a minor who robbed a man at a bus stop threatening him with a knife. Forman reached out to the victim to support giving the boy a another chance. It was his first offence. He was fifteen. Forman found a unique education program that would take the boy and teach him carpentry which he had aptitude for. Such programs usually denied those charged with violent crimes. Then Forman asked the victim to come to court and tell the judge he wanted to give the boy a second chance. Amazingly the judge agreed and put him on probation. Years later Forman ran into the defendant who was working on a construction crew. He had completed the program and entered the work force. If convicted and sent to prison he would have been another life lost.
June 25, 2017
A book about policy yes. BUT at the end it makes you cry.
November 22, 2020
This book won the Pulitzer Prize for Non-Fiction recently and was penned by James Forman Jr, a long time public defender in Washington DC and Yale Law School Professor.
I liked the messaging and the detail on some of the history of African Americans living in DC and the ongoing challenges going back to 1919 was quite good. The section on class distinction - specifically African American cops in DC and how some were the most brutal to the poorest African-American suspects - was well written and insightful.
Few people have the first hand law experience that Forman had to even write this book. However the writing was not at the level of a professional historian and on the flip side the stories, because 75 years of DC were covered, were not in depth or especially emotional either. So the author chose a middle path.
3.5 stars. Worth a read because its thread is a unique take on crime and punishment in DC primarily.
I liked the messaging and the detail on some of the history of African Americans living in DC and the ongoing challenges going back to 1919 was quite good. The section on class distinction - specifically African American cops in DC and how some were the most brutal to the poorest African-American suspects - was well written and insightful.
Few people have the first hand law experience that Forman had to even write this book. However the writing was not at the level of a professional historian and on the flip side the stories, because 75 years of DC were covered, were not in depth or especially emotional either. So the author chose a middle path.
3.5 stars. Worth a read because its thread is a unique take on crime and punishment in DC primarily.
July 11, 2017
As a public defender working in the criminal punishment system in Hinds County, Mississippi, a county that is well over 70% black,, I found Professor Foreman's book to be long overdue, yet timely. Where many authors look at the current state of our criminal punishment system in the larger context of systematic racism, Foreman's work digs deeper and gives readers an up close look at class dynamics and how they have played out in cities where black elected and appointed officials were tasked with controlling the local criminal punishment apparatus and legislative processes.
The history that Foreman uncovers shows that black elected and appointed officials who made political, economic and social gains from the advancements of the civil rights movements, many times adopted the status quo solutions to of remedying crime through punishments in many instances even when they knew that the true root causes of criminality were addiction, economic inequity and racism. However, instead of taking the time, energy and brain power necessary to come up with root cause solutions to crime such providing mental health services, drug rehabilitation, leveling the economic playing field and ultimately, taking the political positions that they had acquired in government and attempt to dismantle the status quo that kept so many poor black people locked inside of a vicious cycle that was marred by poverty, crime and hopelessness, these individual took their new found class status, pushed the dominant narrative and passed harsher and more punitive laws that played into the politics of fear and punishment.
To be fair to these politicians who added fuel and legitimacy to the call for longer and harsher punishment, Foreman also points out that the community bewildered by crime, drugs and violence also were calling for these elected leaders to do something about the devastation the crime, drugs and violence were wreaking on their communities. Looking back, we can clearly see that these politicians took the road of least resistance and that was throwing poor black people away into prisons and jails who were ultimately victims of a political, social and economic context that they did not create. If Foreman's work does not demonstrate anything else, it demonstrates that leadership must employ creativity, empathy, compassion and ingenuity to solve the problems of crime and violence. There are no short cut solutions. The history shows that the individuals in political authority who had control of the criminal punishment apparatus after being victimized by it for so long, failed when they had their shot at the helm. Many black politicians continue to fail the masses of poor black people in this way.
Even In the Age of Trumps America, there are still localities throughout the United States who claim to be electing black progressive and even "radical" political leadership. Locking Up Our Own serves as a cautionary tale to what not to do in the realm of criminal justice if we are to have any real justice on the local and state levels particularly. It also shows what happens when oppressed group take control of the political apparatus without purging themselves of the social values of our oppressors. Without such a purging, the formerly oppressed class will be just as punitive and unforgiving as those who held control previously. However, instead of being on the basis of race, such punishment and long term harm will be carried out on the basis of class.
The history that Foreman uncovers shows that black elected and appointed officials who made political, economic and social gains from the advancements of the civil rights movements, many times adopted the status quo solutions to of remedying crime through punishments in many instances even when they knew that the true root causes of criminality were addiction, economic inequity and racism. However, instead of taking the time, energy and brain power necessary to come up with root cause solutions to crime such providing mental health services, drug rehabilitation, leveling the economic playing field and ultimately, taking the political positions that they had acquired in government and attempt to dismantle the status quo that kept so many poor black people locked inside of a vicious cycle that was marred by poverty, crime and hopelessness, these individual took their new found class status, pushed the dominant narrative and passed harsher and more punitive laws that played into the politics of fear and punishment.
To be fair to these politicians who added fuel and legitimacy to the call for longer and harsher punishment, Foreman also points out that the community bewildered by crime, drugs and violence also were calling for these elected leaders to do something about the devastation the crime, drugs and violence were wreaking on their communities. Looking back, we can clearly see that these politicians took the road of least resistance and that was throwing poor black people away into prisons and jails who were ultimately victims of a political, social and economic context that they did not create. If Foreman's work does not demonstrate anything else, it demonstrates that leadership must employ creativity, empathy, compassion and ingenuity to solve the problems of crime and violence. There are no short cut solutions. The history shows that the individuals in political authority who had control of the criminal punishment apparatus after being victimized by it for so long, failed when they had their shot at the helm. Many black politicians continue to fail the masses of poor black people in this way.
Even In the Age of Trumps America, there are still localities throughout the United States who claim to be electing black progressive and even "radical" political leadership. Locking Up Our Own serves as a cautionary tale to what not to do in the realm of criminal justice if we are to have any real justice on the local and state levels particularly. It also shows what happens when oppressed group take control of the political apparatus without purging themselves of the social values of our oppressors. Without such a purging, the formerly oppressed class will be just as punitive and unforgiving as those who held control previously. However, instead of being on the basis of race, such punishment and long term harm will be carried out on the basis of class.
July 3, 2017
Using Washington D.C. as foundation, Mr. Forman, Jr. takes a look at how, many small events conspired to land the Nation to where it sits today as the greatest jailer in the world. Mass incarceration didn't just happen, it built slowly but steadily and many Black politicians, civic and religious leaders bear some responsibility. He details with solid research how Black communities consistently called for tougher sentencing laws, not just in D.C. but in Black communities all across the land. The aim wasn't malicious but lacking foresight, Black leadership was unprepared for the result of the call to get tough on crime.
With the advent of Black Lives Matter movement, a popular refrain to the activism and outrage is Blacks don't care about so-called Black on Black crime.James Forman Jr. is a former public defender and the son of prominent civil rights activist. And he effectively explodes that myth in these pages.
"In documenting the range of black responses to crime, this book repudiates a claim sometimes made by defenders of the criminal justice system: that African Americans protest police violence while ignoring violence by black criminals." Not only have Black communities cared, they have responded in myriad ways, from corner patrols to stop the violence marches and rallies.
"Far from ignoring the issue of crime by blacks against other blacks, African American officials and their constituents have been consumed by it." So how did we get here? James argues, "Mass incarceration is the result of small, distinct steps, each of whose significance becomes more apparent over time, and only when considered in light of later events."As you turn these pages the journey to mass incarceration shines through with a distinct clarity that James presents in engaging prose with abundant notes and poignant examples. Well written and researched it is a book I recommend for those asking the same question that the author asked, how did this happen?
"When we ask ourselves how America became the world’s greatest jailer, it is natural to focus on bright, shiny objects: national campaigns, federal legislation, executive orders from the Oval Office. But we should train our eyes, also, on more mundane decisions and directives, many of which took place on the local level. Which agency director did a public official enlist in response to citizen complaints about used syringes in back alleys? Such small choices, made daily, over time, in every corner of our nation, are the bricks that built our prison nation." And in building those bricks Black folk bear some culpability by choosing punishment over treatment where drugs are concerned as often drug use and abuse where factors in increased criminality. Also the willingness to draw class distinctions led to a fracturing of communities and hence some seeing others as monsters and not people in need of help. Forman doesn't shirk from some of these hard truths but maintains a semblance of balance throughout. It's a solid look at the so-called war on drugs and guns and the resulting experiences.
With the advent of Black Lives Matter movement, a popular refrain to the activism and outrage is Blacks don't care about so-called Black on Black crime.James Forman Jr. is a former public defender and the son of prominent civil rights activist. And he effectively explodes that myth in these pages.
"In documenting the range of black responses to crime, this book repudiates a claim sometimes made by defenders of the criminal justice system: that African Americans protest police violence while ignoring violence by black criminals." Not only have Black communities cared, they have responded in myriad ways, from corner patrols to stop the violence marches and rallies.
"Far from ignoring the issue of crime by blacks against other blacks, African American officials and their constituents have been consumed by it." So how did we get here? James argues, "Mass incarceration is the result of small, distinct steps, each of whose significance becomes more apparent over time, and only when considered in light of later events."As you turn these pages the journey to mass incarceration shines through with a distinct clarity that James presents in engaging prose with abundant notes and poignant examples. Well written and researched it is a book I recommend for those asking the same question that the author asked, how did this happen?
"When we ask ourselves how America became the world’s greatest jailer, it is natural to focus on bright, shiny objects: national campaigns, federal legislation, executive orders from the Oval Office. But we should train our eyes, also, on more mundane decisions and directives, many of which took place on the local level. Which agency director did a public official enlist in response to citizen complaints about used syringes in back alleys? Such small choices, made daily, over time, in every corner of our nation, are the bricks that built our prison nation." And in building those bricks Black folk bear some culpability by choosing punishment over treatment where drugs are concerned as often drug use and abuse where factors in increased criminality. Also the willingness to draw class distinctions led to a fracturing of communities and hence some seeing others as monsters and not people in need of help. Forman doesn't shirk from some of these hard truths but maintains a semblance of balance throughout. It's a solid look at the so-called war on drugs and guns and the resulting experiences.
June 25, 2017
One of the best books on criminal justice and the root causes of mass incarceration that I have read. I especially appreciated the history of city politics and local black elected officials and law enforcement in Atlanta and D.C. Most of the books and studies on mass incarceration focus on everything and everyone but the role that our own community and leaders played while doing their best to save the community from rampant crime. Incredibly eye opening and captivating read, and very accessible even for those with little background knowledge or exposure to these issues. Highly recommend to anyone interested in criminal justice reform.
August 22, 2020
This is a very important accompaniment for The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness. Especially in the current climate (2020) of people trying to understand how to stop incidents like the George Floyd killing when one of the four policemen was black. The mass incarceration system is not a simple story that can be explained entirely by white supremacy. Its establishment was, according to this book, enthusiastically demanded by black leaders. We need to rethink our entire approach to crime prevention, poverty reduction, addiction prevention, education, etc. So many of our policies seem to be driven by fear, not by a reasoned approach to doing what actually works to solve the problem.
February 16, 2020
I finished this book 2 weeks ago, but I have put off reviewing it because... well, I guess because there was SO MUCH information in this book that reviewing it was a little daunting. I don't know how to write this review. On the surface, this is a book about mass incarceration, and how black people are imprisoned at much higher rates, but this is called "Locking Up Our Own", not "Locking Them Up" so this book looks at the reasons and ways that black people have affected policies that increase the black prison population. And MAN, was it interesting.
I mean, let's think about things from the modern perspective, with excessively long mandatory minimum sentences for non-violent drug offenses, stop and frisk laws, school-to-prison pipelines, racial profiling in traffic stops, huge police presences in neighborhood primarily composed of people of color, on and on... You would think - "Black people don't want this!" And you wouldn't be wrong, because a lot of people, not just black, do not want this. But there is still, and used to be even more, a strong opinion that harsh punitive actions were necessary among the black community to make it safe. This was a time when heroin was rampant, crack wasn't even a thing yet, and coming out of the 60s Civil Rights era, black people wanted guns more than ever before to ensure their safety amongst a community that DID NOT WANT THEM TO BE PART OF IT, and had the arms to enforce it. These issues were HUGELY divisive, and in the end, conservatism and punishment won out over treatment and social service policies.
But it didn't happen all at once. This book shows, if nothing else, how good-intentioned "for the greater good" policies can stack up over time and create a monster that is almost impossible to kill. It's political suicide NOT to claim to be Tough On Crime(tm). And yet, we've had these policies in place for 40+ years and haven't seen a reduction in crime or drug use... just a massive increase in the number of people, mostly black people, locked up.
Prison isn't a deterrent. And it is not any real form of rehabilitation. It's not a means for someone to pay for a crime and then re-enter society after their term is up, because the stain on their record - even from arrests that do not result in charges - can follow them for a lifetime, ruining job prospects, housing options, social safetry nets, etc. And, when there's no options for someone to make a living legally after they have served their time, what other option is there but to turn to illegal methods?
This is not justice. This is disenfranchisement from society and the ability to live one's life after having made a mistake of committing a crime.
It's only with hindsight that we're able to see that these policies are incredibly harmful. They are cyclical and unending and DO NOT WORK. (Well, unless you run a for-profit prison, and then they work beautifully.)
The communities that voted for these policies didn't want to rip families apart and take people from their homes and lock them away forever, they just wanted the drugs out of their neighborhoods. They didn't want to lock up young men for 30 years for having a gun to protect themselves, but they wanted the violence to stop. They didn't want THIS, they just wanted to be safe. And they didn't know how else to accomplish it. By "they" I am referring to both elected officials AND community members who voted for these policies. There were opposing arguments proposing social reforms, like rehab facilities, free methadone, decriminalization of marijuana, etc etc etc, but the option seen as the quicker, more GET IT DONE method was punitive action, and that's what people opted for to see results NOW... and each little decision stacked on top of others, and this is where we end up.
This book opened with an anecdote about Forman sitting with a teenage defendant waiting for a judge to make a determination as to whether to give him probation for possessing a weapon, or send him to the juvenile jail. The kid had plead guilty, and said that he had only had the gun for protection because he lived in a dangerous area. He had no prior arrests, no record, was an average student, etc. A normal kid who just happened to feel like he needed a gun in his neighborhood to feel safe. (This all takes place in D.C. by the way.)
The judge, a black man, (everyone in the court was black - judge, lawyers, defendants, families, everyone) decided to send him to Juvie for 6 months because the defendant, as a young black man who got caught up in the dangerous area he lived in through no fault of his own (though admittedly DID have a gun through his own actions) was essentially throwing the legacy that Dr. Martin Luther King fought and died for back in his face.
This has stayed with me, as it stayed with Forman, because it's MASSIVELY unfair. These days, the system is stacked against kids. They can't control where they live, the actions of their peers, the danger of walking to & from school, the social expectation and potential protection of gangs, etc. To expect anyone to rise above that based on willpower alone is unrealistic and doomed to fail. Will there be some who do? Absolutely. But for the majority, no. This is the life they know, and the life they have. You can't expect someone to scale a 30 foot wall unless you maybe give them a leg up.
So this judge sending him to Juvie is, in fact, throwing another 10 or 15 feet up on top of that already high wall. This kid will now miss 6 months of school, putting him far behind. He will have this on his record (though potentially it will be expunged at 18). He will live, for 6 months, with kids who also have hard lives, few options, and see the dangers and lack of opportunities in their neighborhoods as the only future they have, because that's their normal. But probably worst of all is that this kid will see that even taking responsibility and admitting his mistake will not help him - he will always be judged based on his failure to live up to an ideal that NOBODY lives up to, and the system will fail him in turn. Likely again and again and again. It's heartbreaking.
We need criminal & social justice reform. I understand how we could have gotten here, but we now have the benefit of hindsight and data showing that punitive policy isn't effective. Let's do better.
I mean, let's think about things from the modern perspective, with excessively long mandatory minimum sentences for non-violent drug offenses, stop and frisk laws, school-to-prison pipelines, racial profiling in traffic stops, huge police presences in neighborhood primarily composed of people of color, on and on... You would think - "Black people don't want this!" And you wouldn't be wrong, because a lot of people, not just black, do not want this. But there is still, and used to be even more, a strong opinion that harsh punitive actions were necessary among the black community to make it safe. This was a time when heroin was rampant, crack wasn't even a thing yet, and coming out of the 60s Civil Rights era, black people wanted guns more than ever before to ensure their safety amongst a community that DID NOT WANT THEM TO BE PART OF IT, and had the arms to enforce it. These issues were HUGELY divisive, and in the end, conservatism and punishment won out over treatment and social service policies.
But it didn't happen all at once. This book shows, if nothing else, how good-intentioned "for the greater good" policies can stack up over time and create a monster that is almost impossible to kill. It's political suicide NOT to claim to be Tough On Crime(tm). And yet, we've had these policies in place for 40+ years and haven't seen a reduction in crime or drug use... just a massive increase in the number of people, mostly black people, locked up.
Prison isn't a deterrent. And it is not any real form of rehabilitation. It's not a means for someone to pay for a crime and then re-enter society after their term is up, because the stain on their record - even from arrests that do not result in charges - can follow them for a lifetime, ruining job prospects, housing options, social safetry nets, etc. And, when there's no options for someone to make a living legally after they have served their time, what other option is there but to turn to illegal methods?
This is not justice. This is disenfranchisement from society and the ability to live one's life after having made a mistake of committing a crime.
It's only with hindsight that we're able to see that these policies are incredibly harmful. They are cyclical and unending and DO NOT WORK. (Well, unless you run a for-profit prison, and then they work beautifully.)
The communities that voted for these policies didn't want to rip families apart and take people from their homes and lock them away forever, they just wanted the drugs out of their neighborhoods. They didn't want to lock up young men for 30 years for having a gun to protect themselves, but they wanted the violence to stop. They didn't want THIS, they just wanted to be safe. And they didn't know how else to accomplish it. By "they" I am referring to both elected officials AND community members who voted for these policies. There were opposing arguments proposing social reforms, like rehab facilities, free methadone, decriminalization of marijuana, etc etc etc, but the option seen as the quicker, more GET IT DONE method was punitive action, and that's what people opted for to see results NOW... and each little decision stacked on top of others, and this is where we end up.
This book opened with an anecdote about Forman sitting with a teenage defendant waiting for a judge to make a determination as to whether to give him probation for possessing a weapon, or send him to the juvenile jail. The kid had plead guilty, and said that he had only had the gun for protection because he lived in a dangerous area. He had no prior arrests, no record, was an average student, etc. A normal kid who just happened to feel like he needed a gun in his neighborhood to feel safe. (This all takes place in D.C. by the way.)
The judge, a black man, (everyone in the court was black - judge, lawyers, defendants, families, everyone) decided to send him to Juvie for 6 months because the defendant, as a young black man who got caught up in the dangerous area he lived in through no fault of his own (though admittedly DID have a gun through his own actions) was essentially throwing the legacy that Dr. Martin Luther King fought and died for back in his face.
This has stayed with me, as it stayed with Forman, because it's MASSIVELY unfair. These days, the system is stacked against kids. They can't control where they live, the actions of their peers, the danger of walking to & from school, the social expectation and potential protection of gangs, etc. To expect anyone to rise above that based on willpower alone is unrealistic and doomed to fail. Will there be some who do? Absolutely. But for the majority, no. This is the life they know, and the life they have. You can't expect someone to scale a 30 foot wall unless you maybe give them a leg up.
So this judge sending him to Juvie is, in fact, throwing another 10 or 15 feet up on top of that already high wall. This kid will now miss 6 months of school, putting him far behind. He will have this on his record (though potentially it will be expunged at 18). He will live, for 6 months, with kids who also have hard lives, few options, and see the dangers and lack of opportunities in their neighborhoods as the only future they have, because that's their normal. But probably worst of all is that this kid will see that even taking responsibility and admitting his mistake will not help him - he will always be judged based on his failure to live up to an ideal that NOBODY lives up to, and the system will fail him in turn. Likely again and again and again. It's heartbreaking.
We need criminal & social justice reform. I understand how we could have gotten here, but we now have the benefit of hindsight and data showing that punitive policy isn't effective. Let's do better.
December 31, 2023
Informative. Well-written. Thought-provoking.
December 22, 2018
Locking Up Our Own provides a detailed look at how mass incarceration and the war on drugs and guns came to disproportionately affect people of color. These policies often had the support of African American leaders and community, and over time, they slowly contributed to making America the most locked-up country in the world. Many people are thrown in jail for minor infractions, which then robs them of the chance to get good educations and have job opportunities.
What's amazing about this book is its nuance and empathy. Forman shows that there were many factors that contributed to this appalling outcome. These factors were the best wisdom of the time, thought up by well-respected folks (such as community leaders, politicians, cops and police chiefs), doing what they thought were the best thing for their people. Instead, their policies exacerbated the already hopeless conditions of poor African American communities.
I found this book to be timely and insightful. It is a must-read for those who wish to understand why our criminal justice system is the way it is today, as well as some ideas on how we can help poor minority communities plagued by hopelessness and crime rise above them.
What's amazing about this book is its nuance and empathy. Forman shows that there were many factors that contributed to this appalling outcome. These factors were the best wisdom of the time, thought up by well-respected folks (such as community leaders, politicians, cops and police chiefs), doing what they thought were the best thing for their people. Instead, their policies exacerbated the already hopeless conditions of poor African American communities.
I found this book to be timely and insightful. It is a must-read for those who wish to understand why our criminal justice system is the way it is today, as well as some ideas on how we can help poor minority communities plagued by hopelessness and crime rise above them.
September 28, 2018
This is a pretty straightforward book. Not particularly artful in style. It brings up a lot of questions of blame in the Black community around incarceration, singling out Black leaders. It’s not wrong I just question the narrowness of the subject and if it’s fair to blame these folks for a bigger national and anti-Black problem. Not sure why it won the Pulitzer.
February 7, 2025
I don't know how anyone could call this boring. I also am not sure why some folks say it's a rebuttal to "The New Jim Crow" as he speaks positively of that text as revolutionary in changing hearts and minds. I have definitely fallen into the toxic kind of identity politics where one hopes that their own monolithic demographic or that of another oppressed group will shift things if given leadership positions- often when I didn't even believe it would happen. This book is a good antidote to that shallow way of thinking.
I was completely engaged with this book from beginning to end. This was both fascinating for it's detailed history of a majority Black location (DC) and the criminal (in)justice system as well as a refreshing thesis on the complexity of these issues.
It sucks that this needs to be said in any discussion of any marginalized group, but Black folks are like other humans- complex and diverse in opinions and beliefs. They are also susceptible to corruption by unjust systems, as we all are. Tokenizing folks and pretending like just adding more Black (or enter any other group) cops/prosecutors/judges will somehow automatically solve an authoritarian regime is misguided at best. Though it makes sense- in desperate times we all want solutions and we often use the only things we've ever known, even if they're known to destroy us. One thing is for sure, this book shows in detail how wrong whataboutist folks are who claim that Black communities don't care or do anything about "black on black crime" (aka crime.)
This book was also a good look into the unique confounding factors that Black people have to navigate in various neighborhoods, being forced to clean up messes they didn't create with tools they didn't design. The author is a good writer, story teller, and does very well to make his points by both telling and showing. Highly recommended reading.
I was completely engaged with this book from beginning to end. This was both fascinating for it's detailed history of a majority Black location (DC) and the criminal (in)justice system as well as a refreshing thesis on the complexity of these issues.
It sucks that this needs to be said in any discussion of any marginalized group, but Black folks are like other humans- complex and diverse in opinions and beliefs. They are also susceptible to corruption by unjust systems, as we all are. Tokenizing folks and pretending like just adding more Black (or enter any other group) cops/prosecutors/judges will somehow automatically solve an authoritarian regime is misguided at best. Though it makes sense- in desperate times we all want solutions and we often use the only things we've ever known, even if they're known to destroy us. One thing is for sure, this book shows in detail how wrong whataboutist folks are who claim that Black communities don't care or do anything about "black on black crime" (aka crime.)
This book was also a good look into the unique confounding factors that Black people have to navigate in various neighborhoods, being forced to clean up messes they didn't create with tools they didn't design. The author is a good writer, story teller, and does very well to make his points by both telling and showing. Highly recommended reading.
April 18, 2018
Finished: 18.04.2018
Genre: non-fiction
Rating: A
Review:
Perspective: As a lawyer who started his career as a public defender in Washington D.C., Forman retains a pro-African American perspective for the entirety of the book.
Goal: His goal is an honest retelling of the struggles the black man is up against:
arrests for minor marijuana infractions, opiate crisis getting worse particularly among blacks, racial profiling and guns. "From Wyatt Earp to the Godfather...USA misleads their young people who think they can secure their manhood through the barrel of a gun."
Strong point: with a fact-based approach Forman effectively presents the story of the racial injustice and inequality that is unchecked in Forman's area of Washington D.C. . The War on Drugs that started in 1970's did more harm than good resulting in mass incarcerations of black men.
Tone: Forman maintains a level-leaded and intellectual tone throughout the narrative.
Weak point: the book begins slowly and the first 2 chapters (legislation drugs and guns) did not 'grab' my attention. But once I reached chapter 3 "1948-1978 - Rise of African American police" I was hooked.
Conclusion:
This book is a welcome addition to the debate about racial issues in the USA.
It cannot be compared to Blood in the Water: The Attica Prison Uprising of 1971 and Its Legacy or Ghettoside: A True Story of Murder in America
Heather Thompson and Jill Levoy shift the tone in their books from fact, despair, to excitement, back to fact. They take the reader on a roller coaster of emotions.
James Forman jr. as professor of law at Yale and legal scholar keeps emotions subdued but enlightens the reader with facts only a lawyer can reveal through years of experience.
Forman offers solutions that should be investigated.
This book is a winner! Pulitzer Prize General Non-Fiction 2018
Genre: non-fiction
Rating: A
Review:
Perspective: As a lawyer who started his career as a public defender in Washington D.C., Forman retains a pro-African American perspective for the entirety of the book.
Goal: His goal is an honest retelling of the struggles the black man is up against:
arrests for minor marijuana infractions, opiate crisis getting worse particularly among blacks, racial profiling and guns. "From Wyatt Earp to the Godfather...USA misleads their young people who think they can secure their manhood through the barrel of a gun."
Strong point: with a fact-based approach Forman effectively presents the story of the racial injustice and inequality that is unchecked in Forman's area of Washington D.C. . The War on Drugs that started in 1970's did more harm than good resulting in mass incarcerations of black men.
Tone: Forman maintains a level-leaded and intellectual tone throughout the narrative.
Weak point: the book begins slowly and the first 2 chapters (legislation drugs and guns) did not 'grab' my attention. But once I reached chapter 3 "1948-1978 - Rise of African American police" I was hooked.
Conclusion:
This book is a welcome addition to the debate about racial issues in the USA.
It cannot be compared to Blood in the Water: The Attica Prison Uprising of 1971 and Its Legacy or Ghettoside: A True Story of Murder in America
Heather Thompson and Jill Levoy shift the tone in their books from fact, despair, to excitement, back to fact. They take the reader on a roller coaster of emotions.
James Forman jr. as professor of law at Yale and legal scholar keeps emotions subdued but enlightens the reader with facts only a lawyer can reveal through years of experience.
Forman offers solutions that should be investigated.
This book is a winner! Pulitzer Prize General Non-Fiction 2018
April 21, 2017
An excellent book! I was reading on my iPad and I tend to read very slowly that way... but I would find time for this book. Engaging, understandably infuriating, and with a tone I found passionate but unbiased, I learned how increased availability of drugs like heroin and crack in the '70s and '80s, coupled with the increased use of handguns and the rising prevalence of African-American police forces, served to influence laws and practices that led directly to the unbelievable rates of incarceration we see today, particularly among poor blacks in urban areas. The focus was not on the jailed populations, rather unraveling the whys that got us here. It was informative and detailed, very interesting and easy to read. In the later chapters of the book, Forman, Jr. offers suggestions that might mitigate social damage caused by arrests, mandatory minimums and mandatory maximums, including programs for high-risk youth which worked in one case he discussed in depth. I highly recommend this book!
I received a review copy from NetGalley. All opinions are my own.
I received a review copy from NetGalley. All opinions are my own.
February 23, 2021
I learned some new things. The author is a public defender working in Washington D.C. He discusses how black cops have come to arresting black youths there. It's complicated. The crack epidemic and its violence in the 1980s has something to do with it. He talks about the easy availability of firearms and the thriving illegal drug market. I remember many of the names from the news since I live near D.C. Well worth the read to better understand the whole picture which was my goal.
April 6, 2024
Overall an excellent book, the historical story Forman Jr. tells about the role the Black political class played in the construction of mass incarceration is a powerful warning. His threading through of personal stories of people he served in his role as an attorney really grounded his history in the real impact on real people. Though he doesn’t go here with his conclusions I think there is a lesson about how any reform that treats the solving of social problems with a carceral lens very quickly takes you down the road towards dead ends like mass incarceration. A highlight of the book is the chapter on the rise of Black police, it’s a masterpiece. One critique i have of the book is his focus on mass incarceration being built piecemeal was not fully convincing and the notion that then mass incarceration will be dismantled that way similarly so. This seems to have more faith in the power of the legal system and the state overall to be a neutral, as opposed to ruling class, institution capable of changing such a cornerstone in its repressive apparatus. Excellent book overall though, well deserving of the praise, and worth the read.
July 20, 2018
COMPELLING.
“What was going on: How did a majority-black jurisdiction end up incarcerating so many of its 0wn?” (Kindle Location 127)
James Forman, Jr.’s book, Locking Up Our Own: Crime and Punishment in Black America, is one of the most compelling, and most readable pieces of non-fiction I’ve read. It is a game (and a perspective) changer. Mr. Forman’s take on ‘warrior’ and ‘pretext’ policing, alone, is more than worth the price of admission.
I readily agree with the jacket-blurb of another of my favorite non-fiction authors:
“Locking Up Our Own is an engaging, insightful, and provocative reexamination of over-incarceration in the black community. James Forman Jr. carefully exposes the complexities of crime, criminal justice, and race. What he illuminates should not be ignored.” —Bryan Stevenson, author of Just Mercy and founder of the Equal Justice Initiative (Kindle Locations 6398-6402)
Recommendation: Do not hesitate to move Locking Up Our Own to a nigher place on your ‘to read’ list. Share it with your high-schoolers.
Farrar, Straus and Giroux. Kindle Edition. 6,482 Kindle Loctions, 320 pages
“What was going on: How did a majority-black jurisdiction end up incarcerating so many of its 0wn?” (Kindle Location 127)
James Forman, Jr.’s book, Locking Up Our Own: Crime and Punishment in Black America, is one of the most compelling, and most readable pieces of non-fiction I’ve read. It is a game (and a perspective) changer. Mr. Forman’s take on ‘warrior’ and ‘pretext’ policing, alone, is more than worth the price of admission.
I readily agree with the jacket-blurb of another of my favorite non-fiction authors:
“Locking Up Our Own is an engaging, insightful, and provocative reexamination of over-incarceration in the black community. James Forman Jr. carefully exposes the complexities of crime, criminal justice, and race. What he illuminates should not be ignored.” —Bryan Stevenson, author of Just Mercy and founder of the Equal Justice Initiative (Kindle Locations 6398-6402)
Recommendation: Do not hesitate to move Locking Up Our Own to a nigher place on your ‘to read’ list. Share it with your high-schoolers.
Farrar, Straus and Giroux. Kindle Edition. 6,482 Kindle Loctions, 320 pages
January 2, 2020
I was a criminology major in college, later a lawyer. The criminilization of blackness is something I have been studying formally and informally since the early 80s. This book has a different POV than any I have read. I think all rational people can agree that in the US white people have rigged the system to keep those with more melanin down, and that the justice system has been the most efficient and devastating tool in that arsenal. This book though goes a bit farther and looks at the ways African Americans abetted that process. I have seen others indicate this was a response to The New Jim Crow -- I disagree with that descriptor. This book is a "yes and" follow up to The New Jim Crow. A solid piece of scholarship and social commentary . I do think the book could have been better organized, and that the final section should have used much more of the good research out there about recidivism rates for offenders who go to prison versus those given probation and job training. The author left the reader to fill in a lot of blanks. Still an exceptionally worthwhile read to start my 2020.
August 24, 2018
A political history told in compelling narrative and framed with Forman's own experiences as a public defender...a complicated, necessary book that is also a pleasure to read (and made me cry real tears).
Read
April 29, 2020I read this for my Criminal Punishment class (not for fun) so I won’t be rating it, but I’m still counting it towards by Goodreads goal 🤓
August 21, 2017
This has to be one of the most profound books I've ever read. Foreman's premise tackles one of the most common detracting arguments we hear when we discuss racism in the criminal justice system today: But the arresting officer/jury/judge/other authority figure is black! How can this be an instance of racism, then? Admittedly, I would always be a bit stumped at this question before proceeding to cite the prevalence of internalized racism, the power dynamics of structures vs. those of the individuals, etc. However obnoxious and problematic the question is, Foreman answers by outlining the crucial points in our history at which decisions were made that would eventually leave us with a broken criminal justice system.
I truly appreciated the book's accessibility. Despite his Ivy League credentials, Foreman speaks in a way that can all understand and respond to. I can't think of any other subject in which accessibility is needed as much as it is when discussing the U.S. criminal justice system. He tackles the most relevant issues including the war on drugs, gun control, and racial profiling without being overly simplistic, and most importantly, without losing the nuanced historical realities that many have overlooked.
This was one of the first non-fiction, policy-oriented works I've read that was written with palpable emotion and heart. Foreman's eloquence and sensitivity regarding these issues emanate off its pages pages. He is compassionate, but not patronizing. He is upset by the injustices he witnesses, but leveled with his arguments. He cares in the way that only someone who has firsthand experience can do. I had the opportunity to meet Mr. Foreman at a book signing, and was so moved by his kind demeanor. I'm hardly well-read on criminal justice issues, and yet I felt - and continue to feel, even more so now - empowered by Mr. Foreman to educate myself and others about these issues that once seemed too large and intimidating.
I truly appreciated the book's accessibility. Despite his Ivy League credentials, Foreman speaks in a way that can all understand and respond to. I can't think of any other subject in which accessibility is needed as much as it is when discussing the U.S. criminal justice system. He tackles the most relevant issues including the war on drugs, gun control, and racial profiling without being overly simplistic, and most importantly, without losing the nuanced historical realities that many have overlooked.
This was one of the first non-fiction, policy-oriented works I've read that was written with palpable emotion and heart. Foreman's eloquence and sensitivity regarding these issues emanate off its pages pages. He is compassionate, but not patronizing. He is upset by the injustices he witnesses, but leveled with his arguments. He cares in the way that only someone who has firsthand experience can do. I had the opportunity to meet Mr. Foreman at a book signing, and was so moved by his kind demeanor. I'm hardly well-read on criminal justice issues, and yet I felt - and continue to feel, even more so now - empowered by Mr. Foreman to educate myself and others about these issues that once seemed too large and intimidating.
October 19, 2017
Locking Up Our Own Crime & Punishment in Black America is a great read on the imprisonment of Black America. Author Forman explains how when the Black community takes one step forward there is always the white supremacist politicians and white supremacist law enforcement and the white supremacist wealthy pushing them many steps backward. Author Forman did a great job in explaining how locking up our own started to how it never stopped.
I was very impressed over how author Forman Jr. feared no retribution for telling it way it was and the way it currently is. He talked about how the white supremacist politicians and the white supremacist law enforcement and the white supremacist wealthy set Blacks up for failure as well as how Blacks set themselves up for failure and how Blacks in power set up the Black communities for failure.
An outstanding accounting of how America white supremacist politicians and the white supremacist law enforcement and the white supremacist wealthy made it their cause to oppress Black Americans and how they’ve continued their work from slavery through today. We learn the techniques used to keep their thumbs on the back of the necks of Blacks. We also learn why it is so challenging for Blacks to overcome the atrocities the white supremacist politicians and the white supremacist law enforcement and the white supremacist wealthy commit on Blacks.
Locking Up Our Own was a great read but like most books on this subject, we always learn about the who, the what, the when, the how, and the why but never how to get the thumbs of the White Supremacists thumbs off the back of the necks of Blacks.
I was very impressed over how author Forman Jr. feared no retribution for telling it way it was and the way it currently is. He talked about how the white supremacist politicians and the white supremacist law enforcement and the white supremacist wealthy set Blacks up for failure as well as how Blacks set themselves up for failure and how Blacks in power set up the Black communities for failure.
An outstanding accounting of how America white supremacist politicians and the white supremacist law enforcement and the white supremacist wealthy made it their cause to oppress Black Americans and how they’ve continued their work from slavery through today. We learn the techniques used to keep their thumbs on the back of the necks of Blacks. We also learn why it is so challenging for Blacks to overcome the atrocities the white supremacist politicians and the white supremacist law enforcement and the white supremacist wealthy commit on Blacks.
Locking Up Our Own was a great read but like most books on this subject, we always learn about the who, the what, the when, the how, and the why but never how to get the thumbs of the White Supremacists thumbs off the back of the necks of Blacks.
Read
February 10, 2022I was long overdue to read this book--I cited it in my thesis like two years ago having only read the introduction--and it was even more interesting and complicated and thoughtful than I anticipated. Forman makes the case that we cannot fully understand (let alone begin to dismantle) mass incarceration if we overlook the role of Black communities in building it. He manages to do this without losing sight of the fact that mass incarceration is fundamentally racist and largely driven by white fearmongering; likewise, his description of Black involvement in ramping up criminal punishment accounts for the huge variety in people's reasons for getting involved and the goals they hoped to achieve by increasing policing and punishment. Reading this book felt like watching the Titanic movie: I generally knew how the story would turn out, but still found myself rooting for a different ending. (For the record, though, it appears to be much more historically accurate than the Titanic movie.) Forman's argument is so nuanced that it's hard to summarize here, but the book itself reads easily. All this to say I recommend just going ahead and reading the thing.
Big picture learnings: history methods are really useful for figuring out how we got where we are; understanding how we got where we are will hopefully make it easier to avoid making the same mistakes again; it is important to both be empathetic about the decisions people made in the recent past--for the most part, they were just doing the best they could with the information and resources available to them, just like us today--and understand (+ be critical of) the unforeseen/unaccounted for/underappreciated consequences of those decisions. In addition to pushing back against obviously reactionary right wing shit, we need to be vigilant about the potential problems with good faith attempts to make things better.
More specific takeaways: Black communities dealing with extraordinary violence in the 1970s-1990s "wanted more law enforcement, but they didn’t want only law enforcement…On one hand, they supported fighting drugs and crime with every resource at the state’s disposal, including police, courts, and prisons. On the other hand, they called for jobs, schools, and housing—what many termed ‘a Marshall Plan for urban America.’ But…the help never arrived…African Americans never got the Marshall Plan—just the tough-on-crime laws" (12-13). "Far from ignoring the issue of crime by blacks against other blacks, African American officials and their constituents have been consumed by it" (11). The political valence of anti-drug crusading was not at all the same in the 1970s as it is today, and punitive drug laws were advocated in part by Black nationalist groups and others who felt that underenforcement of drug laws was a racist ploy to keep Black people passive and oppressed (26-28). "Mass incarceration is the result of small, distinct steps, each of whose significance becomes more apparent over time, and only when considered in light of later events" (45). A lot of the problems we have today are rooted in desperate experiments that just didn't end up working as expected--for example, hiring more Black police officers was, in the 1940s, a major civil rights campaign, and it would have been wonderful if that had limited or ended police violence (as hoped for), but it just didn't (106-111). "In times of crisis, even a bad answer beats no answer at all" (146), which reminded me of The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism. Focusing all criminal punishment reform efforts on "nonviolent offenders" misses the point and backfires (220) (this book is clearly and explicitly in conversation with A Pattern of Violence: How the Law Classifies Crimes and What It Means for Justice, though this one came first, so I guess it's the other way around).
In addition to all that, the book is rooted in Washington, DC, and it was really cool to read about the recent history of the city (and especially the recent history of my current neighborhood). Apart from this article, I have learned woefully little about what my block was like before I got here, which of course is one of the causes and consequences of gentrification. (This book re-spurred my thinking about how to habitate ethically given the weird power dynamics I carry with me in the form of whiteness/college education/US citizenship/etc.) It was interesting to learn about the neighborhood's history of neglect and resistance, and the many strategies residents have adopted to help the community live better, from militant anti-drug campaigns to armed self-defense to joining (and, in other cases, rising up against) the police force. Simply as a resident of U Street/Columbia Heights, I wish I'd read this book sooner.
As a history nerd, DC resident, abolitionist, and observer of/participant in the local court system, I got a lot out of Locking Up Our Own, and I enthusiastically recommend it.
Big picture learnings: history methods are really useful for figuring out how we got where we are; understanding how we got where we are will hopefully make it easier to avoid making the same mistakes again; it is important to both be empathetic about the decisions people made in the recent past--for the most part, they were just doing the best they could with the information and resources available to them, just like us today--and understand (+ be critical of) the unforeseen/unaccounted for/underappreciated consequences of those decisions. In addition to pushing back against obviously reactionary right wing shit, we need to be vigilant about the potential problems with good faith attempts to make things better.
More specific takeaways: Black communities dealing with extraordinary violence in the 1970s-1990s "wanted more law enforcement, but they didn’t want only law enforcement…On one hand, they supported fighting drugs and crime with every resource at the state’s disposal, including police, courts, and prisons. On the other hand, they called for jobs, schools, and housing—what many termed ‘a Marshall Plan for urban America.’ But…the help never arrived…African Americans never got the Marshall Plan—just the tough-on-crime laws" (12-13). "Far from ignoring the issue of crime by blacks against other blacks, African American officials and their constituents have been consumed by it" (11). The political valence of anti-drug crusading was not at all the same in the 1970s as it is today, and punitive drug laws were advocated in part by Black nationalist groups and others who felt that underenforcement of drug laws was a racist ploy to keep Black people passive and oppressed (26-28). "Mass incarceration is the result of small, distinct steps, each of whose significance becomes more apparent over time, and only when considered in light of later events" (45). A lot of the problems we have today are rooted in desperate experiments that just didn't end up working as expected--for example, hiring more Black police officers was, in the 1940s, a major civil rights campaign, and it would have been wonderful if that had limited or ended police violence (as hoped for), but it just didn't (106-111). "In times of crisis, even a bad answer beats no answer at all" (146), which reminded me of The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism. Focusing all criminal punishment reform efforts on "nonviolent offenders" misses the point and backfires (220) (this book is clearly and explicitly in conversation with A Pattern of Violence: How the Law Classifies Crimes and What It Means for Justice, though this one came first, so I guess it's the other way around).
In addition to all that, the book is rooted in Washington, DC, and it was really cool to read about the recent history of the city (and especially the recent history of my current neighborhood). Apart from this article, I have learned woefully little about what my block was like before I got here, which of course is one of the causes and consequences of gentrification. (This book re-spurred my thinking about how to habitate ethically given the weird power dynamics I carry with me in the form of whiteness/college education/US citizenship/etc.) It was interesting to learn about the neighborhood's history of neglect and resistance, and the many strategies residents have adopted to help the community live better, from militant anti-drug campaigns to armed self-defense to joining (and, in other cases, rising up against) the police force. Simply as a resident of U Street/Columbia Heights, I wish I'd read this book sooner.
As a history nerd, DC resident, abolitionist, and observer of/participant in the local court system, I got a lot out of Locking Up Our Own, and I enthusiastically recommend it.
February 5, 2023
Phenomenal read. Forman’s experience as a public defender at PDS really shines through in this book, and his use of case anecdotes brought even more pathos into his argument and beautifully bridged the space between historical sources of carceral policies and the people they harm today. Obviously I LOVED that he used D.C. history as a lens for his argument. The government has failed D.C.’s Black residents again and again and again, and leaders who advocated for more punitive measures were primarily trying to ensure their community’s survival. Going to be thinking about this one for a long time, can’t wait to reread.
September 30, 2021
This was a very good and well written book, but in all honesty the book The New Jim Crowe by Michelle Alexander is a hair better.
February 9, 2018
Excellent, excellent, excellent. This book deserves a place alongside the New Jim Crow, Rise of the Warrior Cop, The Color of Law, and Ghettoside in our understanding of race and criminal justice in the drug war era. Forman is a public defender in DC with extensive experience defending poor, mostly African American defendants. Here are some of the big insights he brings to bear:
The main goal of the book is to complement the NJC narrative of race, policing, and criminal justice by showing that African American communities, in this case in the majority-AA Washington DC, supported city-level tough on crime efforts in the 70's and 80's. One example of this was marijuana decriminalization, which a white city council member proposed in the mid-1970's. This issue provided fascinating insight into the AA community's views on drugs. Under the influence of black nationalism, many AA's viewed the sale and use of drugs as a kind of race treachery, a caving in to white oppression and poverty, and advocated harsh punishment of MJ use or sale. Black preachers and other middle class AA's saw MJ as an issue of class and morality, disdaining lower-class drug users and sellers as betraying the legacy of the Civil Rights movement (the way the CRM is used in this story as a cudgel against drug dealers and users is fascinating).
Ultimately, the AA community helped defeat MJ decriminalization, and the mostly AA city council (of DC and many other cities) passed extremely punitive drug legislation, especially when the crack epidemic hit in the 80's. This is an important corrective to the NJC narrative, showing the middle class AA's thought about how to approach the drug/crime problems quite similarly to white politicians. Like most of the country, middle class AA's who exerted the most political control in cities held little sympathy for drug users/sellers, eschewing a public health approach and trapping many in the criminal justice system (think NJC's criminal caste argument). To be fair, most AA's called for "all of the above" approaches to poverty and crime, meaning they wanted better schools, jobs, fairer policing, etc as well as tough action against drugs. What they usually got from state and federal governments was support for the drug war and little else.
This book shoots down a number of myths about race and crime. First, it makes it impossible to say that AA communities don't care about black-on-black crime. They care and have cared immensely, but their reaction (just like the national reaction) only made the problem worse in the sense of calling for extremely punitive policies. Second, it offers a mild corrective to Michelle Alexander's argument about how the war on drugs was designed by manipulative white elites to harness white fear to oppress black communities. Forman somewhat more plausibly explain the drug war as the result of unforeseen consequences from a variety of small decisions superimposed onto an already racially biased system. He also highlights the agency of black Americans in responding to the crime wave in a city that was majority AA and, after the Home Rule legislation, became mostly run by AA's. The tragedy of his story is that their solutions, while maybe helping the crime wave, directly contributing to a system of mass incarceration that has disproportionately harmed AA's.
So if you are into the lit on race, crime, and police, this is an absolute must-read. I didn't even talk about other fascinating issue this book discusses, including the issue of whether more police at higher ranks in city police departments would lead to fairer policing for AA's (hint: it didn't) It is short, well-written, convincing, and emotionally, moving. It's a fascinating new perspective on these issues that I can't recommend enough.
The main goal of the book is to complement the NJC narrative of race, policing, and criminal justice by showing that African American communities, in this case in the majority-AA Washington DC, supported city-level tough on crime efforts in the 70's and 80's. One example of this was marijuana decriminalization, which a white city council member proposed in the mid-1970's. This issue provided fascinating insight into the AA community's views on drugs. Under the influence of black nationalism, many AA's viewed the sale and use of drugs as a kind of race treachery, a caving in to white oppression and poverty, and advocated harsh punishment of MJ use or sale. Black preachers and other middle class AA's saw MJ as an issue of class and morality, disdaining lower-class drug users and sellers as betraying the legacy of the Civil Rights movement (the way the CRM is used in this story as a cudgel against drug dealers and users is fascinating).
Ultimately, the AA community helped defeat MJ decriminalization, and the mostly AA city council (of DC and many other cities) passed extremely punitive drug legislation, especially when the crack epidemic hit in the 80's. This is an important corrective to the NJC narrative, showing the middle class AA's thought about how to approach the drug/crime problems quite similarly to white politicians. Like most of the country, middle class AA's who exerted the most political control in cities held little sympathy for drug users/sellers, eschewing a public health approach and trapping many in the criminal justice system (think NJC's criminal caste argument). To be fair, most AA's called for "all of the above" approaches to poverty and crime, meaning they wanted better schools, jobs, fairer policing, etc as well as tough action against drugs. What they usually got from state and federal governments was support for the drug war and little else.
This book shoots down a number of myths about race and crime. First, it makes it impossible to say that AA communities don't care about black-on-black crime. They care and have cared immensely, but their reaction (just like the national reaction) only made the problem worse in the sense of calling for extremely punitive policies. Second, it offers a mild corrective to Michelle Alexander's argument about how the war on drugs was designed by manipulative white elites to harness white fear to oppress black communities. Forman somewhat more plausibly explain the drug war as the result of unforeseen consequences from a variety of small decisions superimposed onto an already racially biased system. He also highlights the agency of black Americans in responding to the crime wave in a city that was majority AA and, after the Home Rule legislation, became mostly run by AA's. The tragedy of his story is that their solutions, while maybe helping the crime wave, directly contributing to a system of mass incarceration that has disproportionately harmed AA's.
So if you are into the lit on race, crime, and police, this is an absolute must-read. I didn't even talk about other fascinating issue this book discusses, including the issue of whether more police at higher ranks in city police departments would lead to fairer policing for AA's (hint: it didn't) It is short, well-written, convincing, and emotionally, moving. It's a fascinating new perspective on these issues that I can't recommend enough.
December 31, 2019
I wrote a big review of this when I first finished it. I was pretty proud of it; it said nearly all the things I wanted to say about this book. And then Goodreads ate it, even after introducing an auto-save feature that was supposed to make sure that couldn't happen. I would have written it in Word if I knew it wasn't going to work. Anyway, all that to say this book was really smart and good and I refuse to write another review of it so I DECLARE REVIEW AMNESTY.
July 10, 2020
A quick but emotional summation of how the American justice system got to it's lamentable present state. Framing this history lesson are the author's experiences as a defense attorney in DC in the 1990s. While the present conversation regards the systemic marginalization of black Americans, Forman reminds readers that much of the most destructive elements of this system were implemented by black mayors, black city council members and black chiefs of police.
There were legitimate concerns that precipitated these measures: exploding homicide rates, rampant drug use (heroin ravaging DC before crack) and what was seen as lenient sentences.
To solve these problems quickly (and to appease the hyperventilating of mostly white upper class authorities and media outlets) these mostly black officials and church leaders rallied behind more draconian law enforcement. The end results we witness to this day: racial profiling by police, the highest prison population in the world and scores of people of color with little class-based advancement.
Forman argues that instead of seeing the urban state of the 1980s and 1990s as a crime-based issue, it should have been seen as a public health issue. Attention should also have been paid to class-based discrimination, sometimes from within the black community. But at it's core, Forman believes a general lack of human empathy is ultimately to blame.
While the author praises the Obama administration for encouraging the release of non-violent drug offenders and decriminalizing drug possession, Forman points to some violent offenders who also deserve less punitive measures. This book doesn't elaborate on specific ways to treat more violent offenders, but it does conclude that the rash efforts to improve society in the past only created the unjust present. And if these unsuccessful efforts were made incrementally, then the means to fix those changes may have to be just as incremental. But they all have to start from somewhere more humane.
There were legitimate concerns that precipitated these measures: exploding homicide rates, rampant drug use (heroin ravaging DC before crack) and what was seen as lenient sentences.
To solve these problems quickly (and to appease the hyperventilating of mostly white upper class authorities and media outlets) these mostly black officials and church leaders rallied behind more draconian law enforcement. The end results we witness to this day: racial profiling by police, the highest prison population in the world and scores of people of color with little class-based advancement.
Forman argues that instead of seeing the urban state of the 1980s and 1990s as a crime-based issue, it should have been seen as a public health issue. Attention should also have been paid to class-based discrimination, sometimes from within the black community. But at it's core, Forman believes a general lack of human empathy is ultimately to blame.
While the author praises the Obama administration for encouraging the release of non-violent drug offenders and decriminalizing drug possession, Forman points to some violent offenders who also deserve less punitive measures. This book doesn't elaborate on specific ways to treat more violent offenders, but it does conclude that the rash efforts to improve society in the past only created the unjust present. And if these unsuccessful efforts were made incrementally, then the means to fix those changes may have to be just as incremental. But they all have to start from somewhere more humane.
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