Guilty of Orderly Conduct'
Say you’re a recovering alcoholic who, after being a defendant in over 40 misdemeanor cases in the past 16 years, is in AA, holding a steady job and wants to give back to the community. You could mentor at-risk youth, help former inmates find employment, fundraise for a drug and alcohol abuse treatment center—or, you could donate time making photocopies at the local prosecutor’s office.
That’s what John Sempek is doing now that he’s gotten his life in order.
The prosecutor thinks Sempek is a model excon:
“This is kind of some way to pay back and to look at things that go on this side of the counter we like to say and hopefully maybe someday he can help other people on the other side of the counter.”
I genuinely admire John’s recovery and turnaround, and for all the reasons I’ve already started to discuss, I think volunteering can provide meaning and perspective. I have to admit though, this story makes me a little uncomfortable. Since when did turning your life around involve volunteering to help prosecute other people? This is my own skepticism about a legal system that for 16 years could do nothing more for John than put him on trial 40 times; however, I also understand that John is an adult and should be responsible for his actions when they harm others.
Volunteering in the city prosecutor’s office has changed Sempek’s view of the people who enforce the laws that he used to break.
“I was on the other side all this time and never got to see the good part about these people. I didn’t know people cared down here, the cops and the attorneys down here. On the other side you think they’re evil and don’t care, but actually they do.”
But the most interesting part about this story is not my knee-jerk discomfort with his choice of volunteer venue, but the way volunteering is working to bridge a gap between two obviously opposing parties. Empathy is an inadvertent result of Sempek’s time in the prosecutor’s office. Volunteering is exciting when it brings people from different backgrounds with different life experiences together. The prosecutor undeniably has the power, but through contact they wouldn’t likely have otherwise, he and Sempek gain some perspective, come to understand each other better and the whole experience fosters goodwill.
In this way, Sempek volunteering at the prosecutor’s office makes sense. Maybe for him, the whole thing is a way of showing himself and others how much better off he is now, of performing his own rehabilitation and privilege—if he’s volunteering for the prosecutor’s office, he’s certainly not being prosecuted. As weird and uncomfortable as it seems, it could be a way of reclaiming control over his time and making a choice about how to spend it. Helping out rather than being imprisoned or forced to do community service.
Eh, but I’m just reading the situation based on the report. I have no idea what Sempek is doing or why. I do know that volunteering can show you your own good fortune. Donating time you can afford to give, you’re rewarded with the good feelings that come from knowing you’ve made someone’s life easier and the gratitude that person shows.
[Thanks to Daniel Zier for the crappy title]