Vivid comics show the impacts of mass incarceration on communities of color
By Jenna M. Lloyd
Colorlines
September 2nd, 2009
Locking
2.3 million people behind bars is a vast social project. It takes work
to hide the equivalent of a large US city in plain sight. The
explanations served up on the nightly news and by tough-on-crime
politicians graphically focus on violent crime, despite its decline.
More prisons, they say, will create safe and drug free communities. The Real Cost of Prisons Comix
(PM Press), winner of the National Council on Crime and Delinquency’s
PASS Award, asks whether the billions of dollars invested annually in
mass incarceration delivers on these promises. Hidden behind these
fear-provoking images, the book documents the steep human costs exacted
on individual health and freedom, family unity, and community well
being. What else could be done with the social wealth and creativity now
trapped into cycles of cage-building and neighborhood abandonment?
Through powerful graphics and a wealth of grim statistics The Real Cost of Prisons Comix depicts
how the past 30 years of unprecedented prison growth have reshaped the
landscape of our urban and rural communities. By showing the concrete
work that goes into building and maintaining the prison-industrial
complex—from the peddlers of fear to the parole officer—the book serves
as a smart, accessible primer on the politics and economics driving
prison expansion. Prisons are filled with people who have dreams, raise
children, and belong to communities most will rejoin.
The RCPC
shows visceral narratives of their lives and the collision of racism,
poverty, sexism to trace the systematic ways in which mass incarceration
builds on and exacerbates these powerful inequities. Most importantly,
it suggests concrete alternatives that can help rebuild safe, healthy
communities. Shrinking the system becomes as important a harm reduction
strategy as needle exchange and drug treatment.Three accomplished comic
artists collaborate with long time activists and draw on the work of
dozens of researchers imprisoned people, and advocates, to examine one
dimension of mass incarceration. Kevin Pyle’s “Prison Town: Paying the Price”
shows how millions of dollars poured into moving people hours away from
their homes fails to generate promised economic growth for struggling
rural communities. In “Prisoners and the War on Drugs,”
Sabrina Jones takes on racial disparities in drug laws and policing
practices that result in African American and Latino people comprising
93% of those incarcerated in New York, and that lock up more drug users
than dealers. Susan Willmarth’s “Prisoners of a Hard Life: Women and Their Children”
examines how women are the fastest growing group of people being
imprisoned. Most women are imprisoned for non-violent crimes, half of
them drug offenses. But lifetime bans on welfare, public housing, and
student loans for felony drug convictions only exacerbate already
serious problems of poverty, racism, abuse, and drugs women face in
their daily lives. The Real Cost of Prisons Comix grew out of a
popular education project Lois Ahrens began in 2000. Since the first
printing in 2005, over 115,000 copies have been distributed free of
charge, and project’s website receives over 30,000 page views each
month. One of the great things about this book as an organizing tool is
that it includes letters from readers of the comic books—imprisoned
people, political organizers, policy makers, teachers, social service
providers—which give us a sense of how resonant these comics have been,
and all of the ways they have been put to work on the ground.
The
economic depression and fiscal crises facing so many states make the
alternatives to mass incarceration the book outlines all the more
timely. But it’s also a time when the government is pouring even more
money into locking up immigrants. Doing away with prisons isn’t just an
issue of pure economics, but will also require confronting the racism,
economic inequalities, and sexism that work to fuel the futureless
future that they represent.