TRANSFERRED INTENT

It’s never their fault, just ask them. They will tell you, “I’m not the one who pulled the trigger.” I’ve heard their stories so many times it’s downright sickening.

“No,” I want to say, “you didn’t pull the trigger, but you set in motion a chain of events that led to someone’s death. Whether it’s a man held at gunpoint, ordered to lay on the floor inside a vacant house while you strip him of his wallet and keys, the man shooting at you as you try to make a clean getaway in his truck, his stray bullet killing a grandmother sitting in her living room, or the Detroit police busting down a door—a warrant for your arrest—a policeman’s handgun discharging, for reasons we may never know, killing a seven-year old girl. It is you, yes: YOU, who are ultimately responsible; YOU who endangered the lives of others.”

You’re not buying it. You fail to see the logic in a sequence of illogical events. “What if the man charged with murder,” you say, referring to the second case, “is innocent?”

“Then why is he hiding?” I ask.

He ignores my question. “The police should’ve knocked on the door instead of bombing the house.”

“Maybe they did, maybe they didn’t.” I say, and then ask, “Still, why were the police there in the first place?”

This is the type of dialogue that takes place in prison; this is where we warehouse young gang bangers and dope dealers, a majority of whom blur the lines between right and wrong because of a strong sense of entitlement, because of their disillusioned beliefs that nobody will get hurt so long as they get with the program—THEIR PROGRAM. When will they learn that life isn’t a rap video or Hollywood movie? Most of them will sit in prison year after year waiting for another chance to continue their street hustle.

I say, “Let them wait. Let them think they’ll never get out.” Some chains of events are preventable.