Restorative Justice Week 2009

How the Community Met my Needs upon my Release
Rod Carter

Although I was released from prison in 1968 on parole, the need to find a new community was essential if I was to make it on the outside. As I was leaving, I had the feeling there was a target placed on my heart but it wasn't so. Community support was available to me in so many different ways.

I visited my aunt who assured me I was old news and newer criminals were in the newspapers and in the courts. When I told her I was going back to night school, she said "no one can ever take education away from you" and she tucked a twenty in my hand. My uncle told me that I would make it because I was made of good stock from a family that knew how to weather tragedy, "so claim it!". He also passed me some cash.

In those days, long before the advent of halfway houses, I was paroled to my parents. The family I'd betrayed and the neighbourhood I'd disappointed welcomed me home. I truly felt this on my return.

I was prepared to earn my way back into the community; obliged really. The community just wanted me to not cause any more harm or wreckage in the neighbourhood. As long as I kept my nose clean, they were satisfied.

My parole officer recognized that I functioned best with minimal supervision. He recognized my direction towards a law abiding personhood and gave me the space to manoeuvre. He, like me, followed the philosophy that I should be allowed to fail on my own terms rather than succeed on someone else's.

I entered into counselling sessions with my Minister who assisted me in recognizing that I was seething with anger; what friends later referred to as my 'nitro-glycerine side'.

My construction boss said, "You fresh out of the joint?". I said, "Yeah". He asked, "Are you a hard worker?". I quickly responded, "The hardest!". He answered, "You're hired". I ran jackhammers throughout the days and into the nights.

My new friends were no angels but unlike the old crowd they weren't into causing others to suffer. I made a distinction between those of us who were 'bad' and those who were 'mean'. I learned to steer clear of those who had a strong desire to punish either themselves or others. I might have noticed the red flags earlier, but then again I'm colour-blind.

The women I dated tended to like walking on the wild side by dating an ex-convict. I had to be strong, yet in a tender way. It was like jiggling the dish of nitro-glycerine ever so gently. Admittedly, I liked it. This feeling drove me to motorcycles, drive-in movies with beer, wine, people in the trunk and Johnny Cash instead of Neil Diamond. It allowed us to nudge close to the edge; while creating new ways of being in alliance with our 'death wish'.

If God hadn't chosen to hook me, I could easily have returned to prison. Restoration is God's grace and God presented that to me in a thousand ways through numerous caring people. My gratitude was to not return to prison and to make a contribution to society instead of taking from it.

With God's forgiveness and society's criminal pardon I had a strong footing. My community bestowed upon me trust and I reciprocated.

Please register for the National Symposium on Restorative Justice
to be held in St. John's, Newfoundland and Labrador, November 18th - 20th, 2009
Contact Noreen Byrne at (709) 631-0069, cms@nfld.net