Freedom, Revisited

drawing by Akil Jahi

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I recently sent a hardcopy letter via snail mail to Akil Jahi, whom I introduced a few weeks ago in this post:
https://steempeak.com/freedom/@owasco/freedom

That letter was the first I have written and mailed in over thirty years. When I sent my last letter those many years ago, Akil was a young black man in Memphis Tennessee. He and his loving family suffered several terrible traumas back then: Akil's five year old brother was killed in a car whose driver had hoped to beat a train, his younger sister suffered horribly from sickle cell anemia, and his parents' marriage frayed from all the stress, leaving Akil to care for his sister so that he missed a lot of school. Akil's story as a youth continued as too many youthful stories of this nature do, and soon after my long ago letter had snaked its way to its recipient, Akil was condemned to death in the name of justice.

I visited Akil at Riverbend Maximum Security Institution in Nashville Tennessee a week or so before I wrote him a letter. One might think this visit would have been unpleasant. We did have to go through a tedious and invasive screening for entry, and were led by prison guards through a depressing visiting room for a more general prison population, but as soon as we entered the visiting room for Unit Two - death row - our visit became joyous. Even as time ran out on visiting hours, our group of two prisoners and four guests was still engaged in a spirited conversation that none of us wanted to come to an end. Here's an excerpt from my last post about Akil and this visit:

But after three hours with Akil and Abu holding forth on finding strength, goodness, and joy in what could be one of the bleakest of places, I understood. This is a special place in large part because of the two of them, a place of honor, opportunity, worship and freedom.

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I wanted to know more, to hear more, to feel more after I had come home and published my post, so I wrote Akil a letter. A hardcopy letter, my first in three decades, maybe longer. What I wrote to him is of no import, but I received a reply that has left me in a whirl of thought and emotion, and that I hope will be of interest to some of you.

The first thing I noticed was a stamp on the outside of the letter in all caps "THE DEPARTMENT OF CORRECTIONS RMSI HAS NOT INSPECTED NOR CENSORED AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENTS". I was struck by this. Writing letters might just be the only real privacy Akil has. I wondered if my letter had been opened, read and censored before making its way to him.

Akil's letter was handwritten on three pages of unlined paper in pen. I imagine his sitting alone in his cell to write a letter to me. Was he alone when he wrote it, as I was when I wrote to him, each in our respective homes?

His penmanship is beautifully ornate, carefully crafted, and easily read. How many of us can say that about our penmanship? Certainly not I. My letter to Akil was typed.

This man has so much to teach us.

On giving:

We received a standing ovation for our presentation on the skit.
Our Dean from Lipscomb's University stated he was more proud of signing our certificates the most, because not only did we finish the course. We've become teachers working to change behaviors within our community. I felt really validated by his statement. I love learning and sharing what I've learned.

On joy:

It's moments like that, when the sun isn't shining, I can reflect back on the joy of friends. Which always causes my heart to smile, again and again.

On adversity:

Love heals

Akil also sent me this poem. I had the honor to be the first to read it.

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I once played the part of Sunny Jacobs in "The Exonerated", a play made from interviews of six wrongly convicted, condemned, but ultimately exonerated death row residents. In this play I spoke the actual words of a woman who had spent 16 years on death row. Sunny spoke a lot about the letters she wrote to and received from her husband who had also been sent to death row, and eventually executed, in a different prison. I remember one of her lines very clearly:

I existed on those letters.

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Akil has found much more to exist on in Unit Two of Riverbend Maximum Security Institution than his letters. He has become quite the cook, poet, artist and friend to many. He has found respect, joy and love, glory even. He and his friend Abu have been able to infect the entire unit, guards and prisoners alike, with peacefulness. Unit Two is a loving place! If you have trouble imagining this, please go read my previous post: https://steempeak.com/freedom/@owasco/freedom

I've needed to make an addendum to my last post, which was titled Freedom. My post made its way to the prison and to Akil's dear friend Abu. I had stated that Abu and Akil would never see each other again because Abu's death sentence was recently vacated, and Abu will soon be moved from Unit Two (death row) to Unit Six at RMSI. Abu took issue with my statement because Akil is also fighting to have his sentence vacated, which would result in both of them again being housed in the same unit. I gladly complied with Abu's request that I edit my post, and have learned yet another lesson from these two men.

Hope is a powerful thing we must never lay down.

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All images are my own unless otherwise stated.

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