
I am a criminal. Nice to meet you. I am 21 years old, right at the peak of my criminal power. I live in a big city. I have been to juvenile placement, county jail, and state prison. Let me tell you what I think about today’s criminal-justice system.
Before we go any further, please disabuse yourself of the notion that I am dumb. I watch, listen, and learn from what happens around me. In some ways, I’m probably smarter than you. I bought three kilograms of cocaine for $93,000 last week. Quick: tell me how many quarter pounds, ounces, and eight-balls I have, and what should I sell each amount for if I need to make $250,000. I did that in my head while you were reaching for a calculator.




I didn’t meet Davell Gardner Jr. Yet his photo — and the bubbly personality it captures — will forever remain etched in my mind. The picture shows a baby with fuzzy curls; trusting, happy eyes; a beaming, gap-toothed smile. His chubby, loaf-like baby hands remind me of my own kids’ hands, which I often can’t help kissing or blowing raspberries on. There he is, crawling on his dad’s belly, enjoying one of the last playtimes of
Chicago Mayor Lori Lightfoot’s plans over the last year or so to alleviate the violence plaguing the city she was elected to run simply aren’t working, as evidenced by the extreme failure of her “Our City, Our Safety” program. Who knew that injecting “resources” en masse instead of allowing police to do their jobs wouldn’t work?



Be amiss…


