Oooph.

I’m impressed, I was prepared for this book to be more of a downer than it was.  Make no mistake, this isn’t the one to pick up if you want to turn off your brain for something fluffy (not meant as an insult; some days I need fluffy books for just that reason; my next read after this might need to be for decompression, actually). But, for a book on the ways that race plays into the justice systemic racism finds a way to thrive by being sanctioned in creative or selective application of law, it’s fairly uplifting. I only wanted to throw up six times!

Seriously, the selective interpretation of law in this book is staggering.  It’s painful to see how the black men and women Stevenson profiles in the book are treated, even those  guilty of the crimes they’ve been imprisoned over.  There’s a lot that hits home for me as a new parent as well as someone who works at a children’s hospital, so many of the criminals were victims first, children abused by parents, foster care workers, or adult fellow prisoners when tried as adults.  Stevenson describes litigating on their behalf so empathetically – but knowledgeably – that it’s hard to believe anyone stayed in jail with him as a lawyer

Stevenson doesn’t shy away from the unpleasant side of his charges, but he also finds enough humanity in each of their stories to leave the reader hopeful for the future if ashamed of the past.