LWOP, The Wheel, The Letters, are all euphemisms to describe the daunting sentence of life without the possibility of parole.

Our criminal justice system has handed out LWOP for almost every crime imaginable. Tough on crime have created mandatory minimum sentences giving the judges no discretion in sentencing. LWOP is so ubiquitous that the mention of this sentence no longer carries the weight it once had, at least not for society. The person who receives such a sentence in many cases is squashed under the weight of what life without the possibility of parole really means--death on an installment plan.

Imagine you are child, punished by your parents, in time-out. You can not participate in activities nor play freely. You do not have access to those things which make you happy. Imagine you are in time-out for the rest of your life. As a child, it would have killed you to be in this perpetual state. Children are being given ‘the letters’ as well.

We all want people who commit crimes to be punished but we have become so desensitize to the LWOP sentence, pushing for something stronger.  Sentences are run consecutively--looped together to ridiculous amounts of years or in all to many increasing cases, one receives death because LWOP is not sufficient. While I am not a proponent of capital punishment, I do understand the idea of it as some crimes are so heinous, death is a logical choice, but make no mistake, when a person goes to prison for LIFE, with no opportunity to ever come home, it is a punishment. It is sufficient. Living as an eternal prisoner for some is more devastating than a death sentence.  An LWOP sentence is a death sentence--death of spirit for those who have received this sentence and as long as judges are bound by mandatory minimums without taking each case on an individual basis, “the wheel” is the death of common sense.

LWOP- Life without the Possibility of Parole

The Wheel – refers to prisoners never getting out, much like running on a hamsters wheel

The Letters – refers to not being giving a set of numbers (3 to 5 years), but LIFE (letters).

This past Saturday, I attended the 22^nd Annual Virginia C.U.R.E. “Organizing for Advocacy” conference in Richmond, Virginia.

In a room of forty people or more, each one touched by the prison system in some way, it becomes clear that many of us have taken the life we have been dealt and have decided to make it in to a bigger story; a story in many cases that has a beginning, middle and no end.

In this crowd, you hear the voices of mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, wives, nephews, and ex-offenders, each chipping away at their piece of the criminal justice system, whether we fight for geriatric prisoners to live their final days in freedom, or cry foul for our juveniles whose justice too often forgets the differences between a child and an adult.

From the inundation of the sex offender registry where the system fuses the dissimilarities between peeing in the park and pedophilia to the prisoners trapped within an old law, languishing, as their freedom is cunningly and craftily being denied by a board that continues to apply the new law to an old way of doing business. The ailments of the criminal justice system should make all of us sick.

As I paraphrase one board member, “If you wonder if what we do make a difference, you only have to listen to the stories to know that it does”, every letter, every call, every voice makes a difference.

They came. They saw. They continue to advocate for you and me.  Aren’t you glad there is a C.U.R.E.?

To learn more about the Virginia Cure, visit their website.