The
Metro Detroit Restorative Justice Network, launched in 2019 as an initiative of the Detroit Justice Center, exists to advocate for a new definition of justice and a more effective call to accountability when Detroiters hurt one another.
The network serves as a hub for restorative justice practitioners, providing local training while pushing for changes to court systems statewide that, according to network program manager Lauren Fardig-Diop, would give crime victims what they most want and need ― true accountability from someone who has wronged them.
Restorative justice principles have changed court systems elsewhere in the country, but its philosophy has been slow to find footing in Detroit, Lauren Fardig-Diop says. Network leaders hope to increase use of the approach that emphasizes repairing harm, giving victims a voice, and treating each person involved in harmful actions as a human capable of change.
Restorative justice isn’t letting wrongdoers off the hook. Rather, it’s a mindset that says we can do better than locking up offenders and hoping they change, Fardig-Diop says.
“It’s really a huge shift in how you see human beings,” Fardig-Diop says. “It’s really about seeing every single person in the community as valuable and not relying on carceral systems to solve our conflicts.”
Identifying harm
In 2019,
Detroit Justice Center commissioned network founder Angel McKissic to learn what restorative justice resources existed in the city.
With a background in psychotherapy, McKissic found familiarity in the restorative justice space. Restorative justice “circles,” one tool commonly used among practitioners, provide group therapy-like space for open dialogue, accountability, and, in some cases, reconciliation.
Detroit, McKissic discovered, falls at least two decades behind the coasts and many other large cities in embracing and using the concepts of restorative justice to heal communities.
The few Detroiters trained and practicing its principles told McKissic they needed help connecting to and partnering with one another. From this was born the Metro Detroit Restorative Justice Network.
The network’s first gathering, scheduled for April 2020, fell victim to the COVID-19 pandemic, but the group continued virtually, hoping to convince communities, schools, and the legal system to reconsider how they respond to harm.
A broad regional survey, now coalesced into a book-length report set to be released in August, indicated Detroiters often fail to recognize events and dynamics as destructive.
“People definitely had a hard time identifying things as harm, even though they were harmful, says McKissic, now director of the
Damon J. Keith Center for Civil Rights at Wayne State University Law School.
The report includes case studies that acknowledge the complexities inherent in a reevaluation of the current U.S. justice system. They are stories of people who want more police protection but are afraid of police, stories about crimes that seemingly require harsh punishment at the same time current systems of punishment often make things worse.
“We know that many Detroiters will see their stories in these stories,” McKissic says. Such real, multifaceted pictures will, she hopes, encourage policymakers to stretch beyond politics to see and ponder the serious tensions within issues of justice.
Circles of healing
Current Metro Detroit Restorative Justice Network program manager Lauren Fardig-Diop, an educator by training, says schools exemplify the need for change in the way society handles crime.
School staples like detention and suspension remove a problematic student from a volatile situation but fail to address whatever root problem led to the trouble, Fardig-Diop says.
She has been a restorative practitioner in schools since 2014, advocating for a better approach. As part of that work, she leads restorative justice circles that open healing dialogue.
Such circles stem from indigenous culture and prioritize communication, accountability, and pursuit of paths to healing. They can happen in any setting, but restorative justice practices use the circle format to address harm that could land people in the legal system.
At a school, a restoration circle might include classmates, parents, administrators, and others impacted by an incident, engaged in careful conversation moderated by a facilitator trained to, as Fardig-Diop says, “hold space” for participants to say difficult things.
The premise extends far beyond the classroom. Community relationships are harmed by seemingly small tussles and squabbles, from who parked in who’s parking space to who threw trash on who’s lawn. “Small level incidents erupt into violence because there wasn’t a more peaceful way to resolve things,” Fardig-Diop says.
Restorative justice circles, used preemptively, defuse tension before it becomes dangerous. That’s why the network has invested in training about 60 Detroiters in restorative practices, equipping them with skills to peacefully intervene when trouble is brewing.
The trainees say they want to know more, so the network hopes to establish a continuing education piece to reinforce and strengthen that practice in the Detroit area.
Restorative justice practitioners are not therapists, nor is a restorative justice circle therapy, although it could have therapeutic effects. Practitioners meet with participants individually ahead of time to understand their perspective and the power dynamics at play, then craft questions that will lead the group to a resolution that heals relationships as much as possible.
A circle is not a one-and-done endeavor. Between pre-meetings, scheduling, and followup circles, a single case might take six months to a year. That’s not surprising, Fardig-Diop says: “One three- or four-hour conversation is not going to resolve years and years of conflict.”
Redeemable people
The restorative justice approach encompasses all relationships but especially targets the criminal justice system, with its focus on arrest and punishment as presumed fixes to violence and crime. That’s where society most needs to focus its efforts to mend relationships and find the deeper fix, Fardig-Diop says.
While some restorative justice efforts do result in dismissal of charges or avoidance of incarceration, that’s not their primary intent. Rather, the approach seeks to hold an offender accountable for his or her actions while actively seeking avenues to repair the harm they have done to people, relationships, and communities. It focuses on those harmed and what they need to feel the wrong has been righted ― an end that current court systems often fail to reach.
To encourage incorporation of restorative justice statewide, McKissic co-authored a bill currently being prepared for consideration by state legislators.
Initially intended as a modification of the Michigan Crime Victim’s Rights Act, the now-standalone proposed legislation would create a pathway for restorative justice diversion in the courts.
Should the bill pass, it would not mandate use of circles or other restorative justice tools but would make it easier for courts to incorporate those tools in the pursuit of a more effective form of justice for both offenders and victims. The bill does not exclude any crime from the consent-based process, which McKissic says improves outcomes even in cases as serious as homicide.
The bill does not call for automatic dismissal or reduction of charges for those who participate, but judges could take participation into consideration at sentencing.
The bill also would establish restorative justice as a confidential process, offering privileges similar to those used with an attorney. Such confidentiality is “hugely important for getting people to show up,” McKissic says. Violence and discord have long, complicated backstories, with “lots of little things leading up to big things,” and people need a safe space to talk about past harms without fear of new criminal charges.
The bill asks for a $15 million pot of state funding for implementation. “We’re not going to get it,” McKissic says ― but, she says, the price tag demonstrates the importance of building out programs incorporating restorative justice at the court and community level.
More than anything, restorative justice forces people to look at one another ― and themselves ― as humans, McKissic says.
“In our system, if you accept responsibility, you are essentially accepting that you are a monster,” McKissic says. “We are trying to separate acts from people, and we are trying to say that people are redeemable. But the institutions we have set up do not create space for people to redeem themselves.”
Resilient Neighborhoods is a reporting and engagement series examining how Detroit residents and community development organizations work together to strengthen local neighborhoods. It's made possible with funding from The Kresge Foundation.