Hurt People, Hurt People

Hurt People, Hurt People


Exit door in San Quentin, photo by Robert A. Hicks for the Historic American Buildings Survey [public domain] via Wikimedia Commons

The person who has most shaped my understanding of reconciliation is a gentleman by the name of Jerry Elster, an exceptional human being, trusted friend, colleague, and mentor.

I first met Jerry in 2015 when I attended a Victim/Offender Education Group (VOEG) training with the Insight Prison Project. The curriculum was designed by licensed mental health therapists in collaboration with survivors of violent crimes and people incarcerated for previously violent behavior. VOEG allows victims and incarcerated people an opportunity to work together, which dramatically aids in the healing process for everyone involved and enhances public safety by greatly reducing recidivism.  

VOEG groups are usually lead by three facilitators, two from the outside and one inside. The program began in San Quentin state prison where Jerry had been one of the inside facilitators. After he was released he became a VOEG trainer.

I immediately warmed to this man who was softly spoken and quick to smile. It was clear that he had done an enormous amount of work on himself. He was comfortable answering any question, no matter how difficult, and he did so with grace and ease. This created a safe space for those in the class to ask seemingly the most awkward questions without fear of offense or ridicule. He patiently explained the enormous impact of race and class in the justice system and recognized that victims of crime are often not allowed to participate in the criminal justice process. 

The day after his 20th birthday, Jerry received a life sentence for a gang related homicide. Fortunately, subsequent changes in legislation allowed him to come home 27 years later. 

The Crips and Bloods are two notorious Los Angeles street gangs. Jerry was born on the Crip side of town and gang life was the only life he knew. By his own admission, Jerry says he was an angry young man. “I hid my anger, but it manifested in my behavior. I was a bitter person and hurt people hurt people”. 

Jerry spent the first 5 years of his incarceration in solitary confinement.  It was there that he had a spiritual awakening. He heard the voice of God say ‘Who is this man that Jerry Elster has become?’  Jerry didn’t know the answer but he made a promise to God that if He would direct his footsteps, he would do something positive every day for the rest of his life.

After that doors started to open, literally. When he returned to general population, he worked hard to improve his 7th grade education, he developed a prayer and meditation practice, and formally renounced his gang affiliation. Jerry started to find himself in situations where “I felt touched by God and doors opened for me”.

At the time, Jerry knew he wasn’t ever going home but he could help the young men who were by finding a way to prevent recidivism. He went on to organize fellow lifers and start programs such as KidCAT (Kid – the age the offenders were when they were sentenced [all were juveniles] and CAT – Creating Awareness Together), No More Tears, become a VOEG facilitator, quell a race riot in the prison, and organize the first ever day of peace in San Quentin where all races came together wearing white t-shirts and ceased all hostility. 

Since his release, he’s completed his Ph.D. in forensic psychology and continues to work tirelessly to improve the lives of others.

4 comments

  1. Julie,
    Thank you for doing this difficult, hopeful, powerful work. RJ is the Jesus way. RJ gives permission to go deeper and more authentically into one’s story and thus, heal what is profoundly broken (for both the victim and the offender). God is in the dialogue, and you give space for God to be present and meet us where we are.
    Blessed be.
    Thank you.

  2. Yes! We so often mistake people for what they have done or how they act – and this means that we miss the truth as to who they truly are. If only we could see one-another as God sees us, we would treat each other so differently – instead of judging, He sees our pain, our brokenness and still loves us. Yet, for me, the key thing is that God does not want to punish us, merely to teach us to find the exit from our cycles of pain.

  3. Thanks for this post, Julie! I am encouraged by stories of reconciliation in our prison system. It too often feels broken beyond repair, and Jerry’s story offers hope in the midst of our broken system.

  4. What an incredible story of redemption and restoration! Thanks for sharing, Julie. I’m looking forward to hearing more about the work that you are doing in the juvenile detention system as well.

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