The Juvenile Justice Accountability and Improvement Act of 2007, H.R. 4300
House Judiciary Committee
Subcommittee on Crime, Terrorism, and Homeland Security
September 11, 2008.


The Juvenile Justice Accountability and Improvement Act of 2007, H.R. 4300
House Judiciary Committee
Subcommittee on Crime, Terrorism, and Homeland Security
September 11, 2008
Mr. Chairman and members of the Committee, thank you for holding this hearing and for
inviting me to testify here today. I give honor to God for my life and the mercy I have been
shown. My name is Raphael Bernard Johnson. I am before you as someone who, as a teenager,
committed a horrible, senseless crime. An innocent person lost his life because of me 􀂱
something I regret more than I could ever say, and something I will have to live with for the rest
of my life. I am a man who spent my young adulthood in prison. By the grace of God I did not
receive a life without parole sentence, and because of that I was released from prison, and have
dedicated my life to making amends. I would like to tell you my story in hopes that it illustrates
how important it is for young people to get second chances.
I grew up in a Detroit neighborhood known for gun violence and drug dealing. My father
went to prison when I was twenty-two months old. My mother was alone as the head of our
house. She worked long hours in order to compensate for the fact that she had no one to rely on. I
now know that I direly needed a role model, and I searched in desperate places to find one. As a
child and youth, I looked to the streets and to tough men. I wanted to somehow be like to them,
and to be accepted. I wanted to be tough. I wanted to be a gangster. I thought these things would
make me a man. I know now just how distorted that perception was.
I was twelve years old. I took it
to school to build a tough-man persona. At fourteen, I was sent to a boys home for four years.
There, things began to look up for me. I was given a full scholarship to attend the University of
Detroit High School. I excelled in high school. I was on the honor roll. I was the captain of the
football team. I was even homecoming king. I had a lot going for me, and still, I was an
adolescent who could not think clearly before he acted, could not control his anger or walk away
from conflict.
When I was 17 years old, I did the most horrible thing that anyone could ever do to
another human being. The night it happened, I went with friends from school to a party. We were
thrown out of the party for horseplay. Once we were outside, we had a physical altercation, and I
was thrown to the ground. In front of my friends, I was embarrassed, frightened, and angry.
Without thinking, I acted out of rage and fear. One of my friends had a gun in his car. I ran to get
it, returned and fired it three times. The bullets I shot killed someone who was not even involved
in the scuffle I had just had. It was the most cowardly act imaginable.
What was in my head at the time? life and future. Later I learned his name was Mr. Johnny
Havard. I think years passed before I was mature enough to really understand what I had done.
I was tried as an adult and found guilty. I was very fortunate that I did not get life without
parole. The circumstances of the case and the fact that my supporters got me good attorneys
meant that I narrowly escaped a charge that would have resulted in life without parole. I was
sentenced to 10-25 years in prison.
Like a lot of youth offenders who are sentenced to adult prison, the early years of my
incarceration were not perfect by far. I was still misguided, with an unclear understanding of
manhood. I violated the prison rules three times: for a fight, assault, and threatening behavior.
These infractions resulted in my spending nearly six years in solitary confinement where I was
locked down for 23 hours a day, without fresh air and little natural light. Something happened
when I was about 25 years old, and I began to change. I got tired. My exhaustion with this
meaningless life propelled me to do everything in my power to change who I was and who I was
As the years went by, I grew up inside that cell. Over time, I began to come to terms with
myself and to look at what I had done. I began to detest my crime and I came to understand Mr.
Havard and his family as human beings. I began to think of what I had put them through and I
wrote letters trying to express my apologies and beg for forgiveness. Each letter would be

Because I had the chance of parole, a chance that thousands of other young offenders do
not have, I had hope. From day one I saw light at the end of the tunnel. I had something to work
towards, and the dream of helping others, having a family, making a difference in the world
seemed like a possibility. I immersed myself in education and vocation. I read over 1,300 books
and wrote three of my own. I took advantage of all available programming and became a
certified carpenter, plumber, electrician and paralegal. I thought about my faith and relationship
with God. In doing so, I learned self-discipline. I began to search my soul. Through this selfintrospection
I was able to question my thinking of the past, develop a value system and have a
deeper understanding of my actions. I realized I was lying to myself about what really happened
the night of my crime, and I was living a life where I blamed others for situations I got into. In
short, I matured. I grew up. I did the things that a young adult should do, leaving behind
I was able to do this in part because I had a strong desire to make up for the harm I had
done. In addition, I had the support of family and friends who sent letters, money, and clothes
and visited me. There were community ties which included business owners, clergy, elected
officials and educators. I was also fortunate because through all of this, I had people who
believed in me and supported me. Father Don Vettese, a Jesuit priest, stayed in touch through
letters, giving me hope. He continues to assist me today. My father, who had transformed
himself from a gangster to a correctional officer (for nearly 25 years now) also inspired me. I
focused on what I could do to right my wrong 􀂱 to somehow atone for the innocent life I had
taken. I began to concentrate on who I was going to be upon release rather than what I was going
to do when released.
Twelve years after the senseless and unwarranted murder of Mr. Johnny Havard, I was
released from prison. I have been out four years. I went to college and last year I received my
B.A. summa cum laude from the University of Detroit Mercy. I married my childhood
sweetheart, Schannon, and she has given me two beautiful children. I started my own company
where I do motivational speaking and conflict resolution all around the country. I work with
Goodwill Industries of Greater Detroit as a Community Reintegration Coordinator where I help
ex-offenders successfully re-enter society. I am a published author and have appeared in the
media, and I am a community activist. I am currently wor a new book and
curriculum to help ex-offenders successfully re-enter society.
I humbly submit to you that everyone makes mistakes, errors in judgment, and decisions
that we wish we could undo at a later time 􀂱 especially young people. In many, many ways, I am
not the same person I was at age 17. I did things then that I could never do now. I have chosen a
different path. What I want to convey to you is that for any juvenile offender who commits a
crime as horrible and senseless as mine, there is still hope. A teenager is not fully formed yet.
who once declared in the courtroom that she could never forgive me. Now, many years later, I
have another, deeper understanding of her pain. I look at my two year old son and my baby
daughter and when I imagine them being murdered by a teenager, I think I have a clearer sense
of her hurt and anger. However, I also can empathize with the errors of a misguided teenager
who acts without thinking and takes the life of another person.
I humbly ask you to vote for H.R. 4300 and do so in recognition that no adolescent is
beyond hope of redemption, and every young person should have the chance to prove that they
can change and be afforded the opportunity to make the difference. Thank you.



10 de octubre 2013


Un nuevo informe de The Sentencing Project muestra que, si bien las tasas de delitos graves en los Estados Unidos han ido disminuyendo desde hace 20 años, el número de personas condenadas a cadena perpetua se ha cuadruplicado desde 1984.

Una de cada nueve personas encarceladas en Estados Unidos (159 mil personas) está cumpliendo una sentencia de cadena perpetua, y casi un tercio (50.000 personas) son condenados a cadena perpetua sin libertad condicional. De hecho, la población de presos condenados a cadena perpetua sin libertad condicional ha subido más bruscamente de lo que tienen la posibilidad de libertad condicional: se ha producido un incremento de 22,2% en las oraciones perpetua sin libertad condicional desde 2008.

Aproximadamente 10.000 de estas cadenas perpetuas que sirven han sido condenados por delitos no violentos, y más de 10.000 han sido condenados por delitos que ocurrieron antes de cumplir los 18. Casi una cuarta parte de los menores son condenados a cadena perpetua sin libertad condicional.

Casi la mitad de los que tienen cadena perpetua son afroamericanos y 1 de cada 6 son latinos.

Rara vez usa la mayor parte del siglo 20, a cadena perpetua aumentaron como parte de “duro con el crimen” políticas que se hizo popular en la década de 1980, explica el informe. Un miedo creciente de la delincuencia alimentada por informes de los medios sensacionalistas de los reincidentes y profecías racializados sobre una ola de crímenes violentos en los jóvenes de minorías provocó el rechazo generalizado de la rehabilitación como una meta de la pena de prisión y la aceptación de la pena de muerte en prisión. Seis estados – Illinois, Iowa, Louisiana, Maine, Pennsylvania, y Dakota del Sur – y el gobierno federal de libertad condicional eliminados por completo durante este período, en estos estados a todos los reclusos condenados vida pasan el resto de su vida en prisión sin posibilidad de revisión o liberar.

El problema de estas políticas es que la ola de delincuencia juvenil nunca sucedió, el crimen violento ha disminuido en todo el país, y los costos rápidamente crecientes de la encarcelación en masa están impulsando políticas a reevaluar las leyes de sentencias y aplicar las reformas que se están empezando a reducir la población carcelaria en muchos estados . Las investigaciones muestran largas condenas no hacen nada para mejorar la seguridad pública, y los reclusos ancianos requieren asistencia médica muy cara, pero condenados a cadena perpetua siguen siendo en gran medida excluidos de la discusión de la reforma de sentencia.

EJI está involucrado en litigios y otros esfuerzos de reforma encaminados a reducir el castigo excesivo y la encarcelación en masa .

Bryan Stevenson: We need to talk about an injustice

“Bryan is a lawyer and activist, and gives a talk about his work to end locking up kids in adult prisons.”
In an engaging and personal talk — with cameo appearances from his grandmother and Rosa Parks — human rights lawyer Bryan Stevenson shares some hard truths about America’s justice system, starting with a massive imbalance along racial lines: a third of the country’s black male population has been incarcerated at some point in their lives. These issues, which are wrapped up in America’s unexamined history, are rarely talked about with this level of candor, insight and persuasiveness.

“Elogio De La Incomodidad (documental, 2013)”

Publicado el 30/08/2013
Una producción de CTERA. 2013.

“Elogio de la Incomodidad. La experiencia de la escuela de reingreso de Barracas” es un documental en el cual intentamos mostrar que es posible desde una escuela estatal diseñar y poner en acto nuevas formas de organizar el conocimiento, de organizar el trabajo y los vínculos de enseñanza-aprendizaje, de modo tal que se pueda dar cuenta de los intereses, las necesidades y los derechos de los adolescentes. Que es posible construir una escuela en la que se integren áreas de conocimiento, es posible que se escuche a los estudiantes y es posible que profesores y profesoras construyan autoridad pedagógica desde la práctica cotidiana y no desde prescripciones reglamentarias.
Algunas de las ideas que aquí circulan, centralmente la del trabajo docente colectivo, son parte de las claves para la recreación de la escuela secundaria ahora obligatoria, pensada como derecho de ciudadanía.
Esperamos que este testimonio nos de nuevas pistas para seguir buscando en la incomodidad de ir navegando mientras construimos el barco.