reader. writer.

I like the advice that we should choose a few things to focus on instead of trying to take in everything…it makes a lot of sense, but I can’t say I am following it. The best I can do is say, okay, what is one thing I can focus on right this minute? 

I also keep reminding myself that I don’t have to know everything or do everything, I don’t have to be on top of everything, I don’t have to be perfect, I can be broken, I can be aging, I can fail to correct typos (or actual errors!), I can overreact, I can under-react, I can be distracted, I can be overwhelmed, I can pull back, I can leap forward, and no matter what, this stays true: I can speak up for what is right. And I never, ever have to quit caring about life on this planet, human, plant, or animal. I can be angry at everyone and still want everyone to be okay.

All this to say, in the middle of EVERYTHING being at risk ALL AT ONCE, I want to take a moment to react to the news that South Carolina will execute a death row inmate by firing squad, the first time in fifteen years.

Here’s a screenshot from the linked APnews report:

I generally prefer to scrutinize everything about death row through fingers covering my eyes–though I want credit for reading Bryan Stevenson’s Just Mercy more than once, and not only do I recommend reading it and supporting his amazing work, I still find this line so powerful, the kind of idea that breaks through all the noise: “Each of us is more than the worst thing we’ve ever done.”

So I will step gingerly around the mind-numbing darkness that a firing squad is apparently a more humane way to die than all the other options. And I don’t want to go into a full debate over the death penalty.

Instead, I want to turn your attention not to the death row inmate in that picture, but the three “state Correction Department volunteers.” 

Take this moment to consider, that for this execution (for every execution), our government trains and pays people to kill—not for defense, just as a nine-to-five job. Just show up to work that day and know that your job is to shoot another human being. Some on death row have incontrovertible records of inflicting great harm; some are falsely convicted. Whoever does this job won’t know which it is. And keep in mind that it is overwhelmingly poor people who land on death row, not anyone with enough money and privilege to hide their crimes or defend themselves. So they are being paid to kill someone partly because that person is poor. 

Not only that, anyone who works at a prison could find they are working side-by-side with one of these “volunteers.” They could become part of a culture that arises to protect itself from self-doubt, justifying everything that happens no matter how horrific (which suddenly reminds me of a recent report from the NY Times that suggests prison conditions are dire for all involved). It means working in the prison can cause you to lose your ability to see the people in the facility as human. And here’s a gentle hint–not seeing other people as human doesn’t only harm the other people–it begins to strip your own humanity away.

I won’t pretend that I ever supported the death penalty. I don’t, and that discussion could go on and on. But today, I want us to pause and think about what we are doing to everyone involved in the executions. That something important is harmed every time an execution takes place. That the price we pay, literally and metaphorically, is simply too high.

But I have to mention my greatest concern about the death penalty–that it relies on government never making a mistake. I know people who work in government act in good faith more often than not, I reject the nonsense being spouted by unelected (yet highly paid) permanent adolescents taking chainsaws to our critical services. But I also know that nothing is perfect, neither the private sector nor the public. There will never be a safe or appropriate way for the government to execute its people, especially this new dystopian version in South Carolina.