El Jones: A poem on Restorative Justice

El Jones is a poet, educator and community activist from Halifax.

She co-hosts the Black Power Hour radio show, a program that aims to connect with the black prison population on Canada's East Coast. She also runs poetry workshops with inmates in Nova Institution for Women.

In her work, El advocates for restorative justice, an Indigenous approach to justice that focuses on healing, community, and reparations.

In this special edition of Tapestry, El explores restorative justice by speaking with a woman whose life was deeply affected by violent crime and a man who took someone else's life.

El Jones shares a spoken word piece based on her experiences working with incarcerated men and some of the stories they shared with her.

Click LISTEN to hear El's performance and scroll below to read a full transcript.

T. comes into prison a proud white supremacist. He's got swastikas tattooed on his neck and KKK on the knuckles on his fist And the last prison he was in there's a guy he already killed. But there's a black guy on the range and somehow they start to chill He says just cover that up around me if we're going to co-exist And they're both doing life over blood that they have spilled And slowly, slowly, somehow their friendship starts to build Well T. gets transferred out and from the depths he sends a letter Thank you for your friendship for helping me be better He says, my sister was assaulted at a party by black guys And I decided every single black guy was the same in my eyes I was so angry that my hate was twisting me inside Thank you for showing me another way. Thank you for saving me If we've never struggled to make a change what do we know of bravery What do we know about transformation in these places where we're breaking people down D. is waiting in the hole it's been 7 or 8 months now One day he loses it in his cell and starts trashing everything around And then he hears a knock. And he thinks what now I can't take anymore this pressure has to stop. And a hand reaches through his slot. And D.'s on edge thinking it's someone here to take a shot The guy's high up in a gang a soldier at the top But he opens up his fist and there's a jade and black crucifix And all he says is simply, I thought you needed this. What do we know of human kindness and the places it exists When we sentence people to life and say their humanity's eclipsed And M. toasts bread and hides it in the fridge He grew up on a remote reserve with no food when he was a kid Captain Crunch at Christmas was what his mother knew of gifts And uncles struggling with their own addictions who taught him how to fix When residential schools left generations broke in bits And the other guys bug him now because he only owns one lime green pair of sweats So when someone offers him 20 dollars that's as good as it gets They ask him to heat up butter in the microwave and throw it in a face And he gets dragged off to solitary but for him it's not a waste Because 20 dollars is enough to get a couple weeks canteen What do we know of desperation when our stomach's full when we go to sleep What do we know of wounding where the trauma runs so deep And so we lock people down never allowed out in the open But the light gets through the cracks in the places that we're broken So many lives that disappear and their stories are unspoken And there's a young Mi'kmaq man who calls me and tells me that he's fine And then I link him to his mother and he starts crying on the line And he tells her he almost died because he drank hand sanitizer What do we know of pain when numb's the only option for survival And there are teenagers inside who are shaking on arrival And I don't understand how every courtroom has a bible And then we sentence human beings to places where if they're suicidal They strip them of their clothes and throw them into solitary confinement And once you get a record it's a judgement that is final And there's no supports when you get out so you're forced to repeat the cycle What do we know of forgiveness when our vengeance still is primal And there's so many minds going to waste full of knowledge that is vital Who knows if the cure for AIDS is in a mind that's sitting idle And people talk of justice as if it's just a scale that balances While families and communities are grieving all the absences And people sit inside for years and yet it never heals the damages And I don't know if there's an easy answer for how we meet these challenges But I've seen transformations that I would call miraculous Love, forgiveness, resilience, generosity and thankfulness What I know of being human comes from being a prison activist To everyone working towards justice, thank you for making me compassionate.- El Jones