Latest news with #criminaljustice
The Guardian
5 hours ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Trump's pardoning of Black celebrities is a cynical ploy
This week, Trump issued two dozen presidential pardons to a motley crew of wrongdoers, including shady politicians, fraudulent CEOs and other wealthy ne'er-do-wells. On that list were the Louisiana rapper NBA YoungBoy (whose real name is Kentrell Gaulden) and the Chicago gangster Larry Hoover. Regardless of where you stand on American carceral culture and what we know about the ways the criminal justice system squashes Black people who have the misfortune of interacting with it, Trump handing out pardons to Hoover and Gaulden isn't the magnanimous or justice-focused move he wants us to believe it is. Instead, it's a clear effort to garner support from the Black community by way of its big names. Gaulden, for his part, was convicted on gun-related charges and sentenced to just under two years in prison. He had already been released and this pardon just means he won't have to follow through with his probation conditions. For Hoover, Trump granted a commutation of his federal prison sentence; the former Gangster Disciples leader was serving six life sentences on conspiracy, extortion, drug and other criminal charges. Still, the 74-year-old won't be coming home (he's still on the hook for murder in the state of Illinois, a conviction that came with a hefty 200-year jail term). So why is Trump pardoning exactly the kind of people – a gangster and a rapper – whom he despises, and whom he would typically disparage and cast as a danger to American society? The answer is obvious if you've been paying attention: he's done it before – and it seems to have worked. A couple of reasons are often given for Trump's apparent increase in support from Black voters. Some voters believed Trump's claims that Black Americans saw an economic boost under his first presidency, and that he achieved record low unemployment – which isn't the full story. This is not to mention the fact that Black voters have also become increasingly disillusioned with the Democratic party. Still, one has to wonder just how many of the Black voters who switched sides were won over by disingenuous moves like Trump's pardons. Probably the most damning indication of the way Trump views Black Americans – and the instincts that drive his political decisions – are his comments about Black people who have experienced the criminal justice system. At a gala in South Carolina in 2024, Trump said he was getting more Black support thanks to his criminal cases, because Black people, like him, have been historically mistreated by the criminal justice system. 'And then I got indicted a second time and a third time and a fourth time. And a lot of people said that that's why the Black people like me because they have been hurt so badly and discriminated against,' he said. 'They actually viewed me as I'm being discriminated against.' Trump's 'aren't-we-all-just-criminals-at-the-end-of-the-day?' schtick appeals to the kind of famous, moneyed Black people who want to ingratiate themselves with whoever holds power, regardless of who they sell out or what kind of political nightmare they help unleash on the rest of the country. Just look at how many Black male celebrities showed up to his 2025 inauguration; from the rappers Snoop Dogg and Nelly, to newer faces in the industry like Fivio Foreign and Kodak Black; the latter of whom, mind you, was also granted a presidential pardon at the end of Trump's first term. The Trump show is full of these sorts of favors, but is led by a slimy businessman who always comes to collect – with interest. Black folks are disgusted with Trump. This is a fact. But if you thought all Black people would see or acknowledge this for the twisted, insulting, racist grift that it is, think again. Even after the South Carolina gala comments, Trump still managed to secure major cosigns from Black celebrities like Kodak Black, Kanye West, 50 Cent and Lil Wayne. And he's doing it again – handing out pardons like Oprah giving away cars to her audience. 'I want to thank President Trump for granting me a pardon and giving me the opportunity to keep building – as a man, as a father, and as an artist,' Gaulden said in a statement this week after news of his pardon broke. Meanwhile, comments on the news ranged from pleasant surprise, to calls for Trump to free other famous people, to wholehearted support of his use of power. Set aside the countless far more worthy cases that Trump could have applied his pardons to. Moves like this are a slap in the face considering everything that Black Americans have specifically said that they need from him, and the ways he and his administration have directly made life harder for them. Black men are the country's most unemployed demographic; Black women continue to die with shocking regularity during childbirth, and police continue to harass and abuse innocent Black people simply for existing. The fact that granting a bunch of useless pardons felt like a worthy diversion tells me two things; one, that Trump thinks Black people are stupid or disempowered enough to be distracted by this kind of meaningless breadcrumbing, and two, that the only way he thinks he can relate to Black people is through the lens of criminality and being 'wrongfully' persecuted. Either way, these pardons have proven to be a means to an end for Trump – an end where he always comes out on top. Tayo Bero is a Guardian US columnist.
Yahoo
9 hours ago
- Business
- Yahoo
Chabria: Even tough-on-crime district attorneys know prison reform is smart
On a recent morning inside San Quentin prison, Los Angeles County Dist. Atty. Nathan Hochman and more than a dozen other prosecutors crowded into a high-ceilinged meeting hall surrounded by killers, rapists and other serious offenders. Name the crime, one of these guys has probably done it. "It's not every day that you're in a room of 100 people, most of whom have committed murder, extremely violent crimes, and been convicted of it," Hochman later said. Many of these men, in their casual blue uniforms, were serving long sentences with little chance of getting out, like Marlon Arturo Melendez, an L.A. native who is now in for murder. Melendez sat in a "sharing circle," close enough to Hochman that their knees could touch, no bars between them. They chatted about the decrease in gang violence in the decades since Melendez was first incarcerated more than 20 years ago, and Melendez said he found Hochman "interesting." Inside San Quentin, this kind of interaction between inmates and guests isn't unusual. For decades, the prison by the Bay has been doing incarceration differently, cobbling together a system that focuses on accountability and rehabilitation. Like the other men in the room, Melendez takes responsibility for the harm he caused, and every day works to be a better man. When he introduces himself, he names his victims — an acknowledgment that what he did can't be undone but also an acknowledgment that he doesn't have to remain the same man who pulled the trigger. Whether or not Melendez or any of these men ever walk free, what was once California's most notorious lockup is now a place that offers them the chance to change and provides the most elusive of emotions for prisoners — hope. Creating that culture is a theory and practice of imprisonment that Gov. Gavin Newsom wants to make the standard across the state. Read more: Chabria: California to transform infamous San Quentin prison with Scandinavian ideas, rehab focus He's dubbed it the California Model, but as I've written about before, it's common practice in other countries (and even in a few places in the United States). It's based on a simple truth about incarceration: Most people who go into prison come out again. Public safety demands that they behave differently when they do. "We are either paying to keep them here or we are paying if they come back out and harm somebody," said Brooke Jenkins, the district attorney of San Francisco, who has visited San Quentin regularly for years. Jenkins was the organizer of this unusual day that brought district attorneys from around the state inside of San Quentin to gain a better understanding of how the California Model works, and why even tough-on-crime district attorneys should support transforming our prisons. As California does an about-face away from a decade of progressive criminal justice advances with new crackdowns such as those promised by the recently passed Proposition 36 (which is expected to increase the state inmate population), it is also continuing to move ahead with the controversial plan to remake prison culture, both for inmates and guards, by centering on rehabilitation over punishment. Despite a tough economic year that is requiring the state to slash spending, Newsom has kept intact more than $200 million from the prior budget to revamp San Quentin so that its outdated facilities can support more than just locking up folks in cells. Some of that construction, already happening on the grounds, is expected to be completed next year. It will make San Quentin the most visible example of the California Model. But changes in how inmates and guards interact and what rehabilitation opportunities are available are already underway at prisons across the state. It is an overdue and profound transformation that has the potential to not only improve public safety and save money in the long run, but to fundamentally reshape what incarceration means across the country. Jenkins' push to help more prosecutors understand and value this metamorphosis might be crucial to helping the public support it as well — especially for those D.A.s whose constituents are just fine with a system that locks up men to suffer for their (often atrocious) crimes. Or even those Californians, such as many in San Francisco and Los Angeles, who are just fed up with the perception that California is soft on criminals. "It's not about moderate or progressive, but I think all of us that are moderates have to admit that there are reforms that still need to happen," Jenkins told me as we walked through the prison yard. She took office after the successful recall of her progressive predecessor, Chesa Boudin, and a rightward shift in San Francisco on crime policy. Still, she is vocal about the need for second chances. For her, prison reform is about more than the California Model, but a broader lens that includes the perspectives of incarcerated people, and their insights on what they need to make rehabilitation work. "It really grounds you in your obligation to make sure that the culture in the [district attorney's] office is fair," she said. For Hochman, a former federal prosecutor and defense lawyer who resoundingly ousted progressive George Gascón last year, rehabilitation makes sense. He likes to paraphrase a Fyodor Dostoevsky quote, 'The degree of civilization in a society is revealed by entering its prisons.' "In my perfect world, the education system, the family system, the community, would have done all this work on the front end such that these people wouldn't have been in position to commit crimes in the first place," he said. But when that fails, it's up to the criminal justice system to help people fix themselves. Read more: Chabria: Bringing the death penalty back to L.A. is politics and hubris, not justice Despite being perceived as a tough-on-crime D.A. (he prefers "fair on crime") he's so committed to that goal of rehabilitation that he is determined to push for a new Men's Central Jail in Los Angeles County — an expensive (billions) and unpopular idea that he says is long overdue but critical to public safety. "Los Angeles County is absolutely failing because our prisons and jails are woefully inadequate," he said. He's quick to add that rehabilitation isn't for everyone. Some just aren't ready for it. Some don't care. The inmates of San Quentin agree with him. They are often fiercely vocal about who gets transferred to the prison, knowing that its success relies on having incarcerated people who want to change — one rogue inmate at San Quentin could ruin it for all of them. "It has to be a choice. You have to understand that for yourself," Oscar Acosta told me. Now 32, he's a "CDC baby," as he puts it — referring to the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation — and has been behind bars since he was 18. He credits San Quentin with helping him accept responsibility for his crimes and see a path forward. When the California Model works, as the district attorneys saw, it's obvious what its value is. Men who once were nothing but dangerous have the option to live different lives, with different values. Even if they remain incarcerated. "After having been considered the worst of the worst, today I am a new man," Melendez told me. "I hope (the district attorneys) were able to see real change in those who sat with them and be persuaded that rehabilitation over punishment is more fruitful and that justice seasoned with restoration is better for all." Melendez and the other incarcerated men at San Quentin aspire for us to see them as more than their worst actions. And they take heart that even prosecutors like Jenkins and Hochman, who put them behind bars, sometimes with triple-digit sentences, do see that the past does not always determine the future, and that investing in their change is an investment in safer communities. Sign up for Essential California for news, features and recommendations from the L.A. Times and beyond in your inbox six days a week. This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.
CNN
13 hours ago
- General
- CNN
A growing number of New Orleans fugitives' friends and family arrested for aiding in jail escape
FacebookTweetLink Follow The 10 men who escaped from a New Orleans jail more than two weeks ago by cutting out a hole behind a toilet received help from at least 14 people, many of them friends and family who provided food, cash, transport and shelter according to court documents. Records reviewed by The Associated Press show how some of the fugitives received aid before and after their escape — including from a number of people named in police reports but not yet facing charges. A former jail employee is accused of driving escapee Lenton Vanburen to a relative's home and helping him FaceTime family the day of the escape, while another friend later offered him a hiding place in a vacant apartment he had been hired to repaint. Others sent money via apps, lied to authorities during interrogation and messaged or called the fugitives, police say. Some are now held on bonds $1 million or higher and most face the felony charge of accessory after the fact. In a city with an entrenched mistrust of the criminal justice system, authorities on Thursday raised the reward to $50,000 per fugitive. They stressed that friends and family are key to capturing the two remaining escapees, convicted murderer Derrick Groves and Antoine Massey, who faces kidnapping and rape charges. 'We understand that some of you might be reporting a friend, a loved one, a relative and albeit not easy, it is critical to your safety and the safety of the public that you report them,' Jonathan Tapp, special agent in charge of FBI New Orleans, said Thursday. After the audacious escape in the early hours of May 16, a woman who police described as 'associated' with Groves 'picked up' and transported escapee Vanburen to a relative's residence, the documents show. She then video-called Vanburen's sisters, who came to meet him. This woman — who has not been charged with aiding in the escape — shares the same name as a former Orleans Parish Sheriff's Office employee, according to court records. In 2023, that employee was arrested for bringing a folding knife and a bag of Cheetos containing tobacco and marijuana into the jail. The charges were dropped in part due to the woman's lack of criminal history and she 'successfully completed' a pretrial diversion program, the Orleans Parish District Attorney's office told The Associated Press. The Orleans Parish Sheriff's Office did not respond to request for comment. In a text message to an AP reporter, the woman denied bringing in contraband or aiding fugitives. Separately, authorities arrested a jail plumber they say helped the men escape, but his attorney maintains he was just trying to unclog a toilet. Several escapees, including Massey, relied on internet phone services to communicate with accomplices and 'avoid detection' by not leaving a trail of cellular signals, police reports say. Escapee Corey Boyd used an internet phone service to message several contacts seeking money and access to their iCloud accounts, threatening to kill one person if they did not comply, court records show. The FBI reviewed months of calls from Boyd's 'top caller' while incarcerated. They then found a brief call from a new phone number the night after the escape and used that to help track down Boyd. They discovered that Boyd's aunt was messaging him on Instagram to help him get food as hid in the apartment where a SWAT team captured him May 20. One of the women accused of helping Massey suffered from years of physical abuse from him, court records show. The woman, who had previously filed a protective order against Massey after he attempted to strangle her, was aware of his planned escape and later misled authorities, police say. She exchanged messages with Massey's 31-year-old sister saying they hoped he 'never gets caught.' Authorities staked out the New Orleans home of Massey's sister but a search six days after the escape turned up empty-handed. Police learned Massey had been inside the home before the raid and altered and deleted evidence on his sister's phone. Court records show police accuse Massey's sister of lying to them, slowing down the manhunt and forcing them to lose 'critical days and hours' in the search. At least seven of the people facing felony charges for aiding the fugitives have ties to Lenton Vanburen, Jr. according to authorities. After alerting two of his sisters by prison phone in the hours before his escape, he instructed they contact 'my girl' and provide her with a 'clean phone' so the two could communicate. The woman identified by police as Vanburen's love interest told The Associated Press she never received the phone and denied involvement in the escape plans. Vanburen's sisters met up with him the night of his escape at a family member's residence where he was able to shower, change clothes and was given toiletries. Another family member later reportedly took him to a relative's home in Mississippi. Vanburen was ultimately captured in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, on Monday and two men arrested this week were accused of helping him find shelter in a hotel — paid for in cash — and an apartment undergoing renovation. The Baton Rouge court system had no record of their legal representation. In another case, a 59-year-old Louisiana woman is accused of sending cash to fugitive Jermaine Donald, a family friend, according to her attorney. Lindsey Hortenstine, communications director for the Orleans Parish Public Defenders' office, said that most of the people arrested in connection with helping the fugitives have not yet secured attorneys. Louisiana State Police Superintendent Colonel Robert Hodges said tips from friends and family remain essential to locating the remaining fugitives. 'They're tired, they're looking over their shoulder, looking for resources,' Hodges said. 'I think the advantage goes to law enforcement and we need the public's help to ensure that we keep that advantage.'
CNN
13 hours ago
- General
- CNN
A growing number of New Orleans fugitives' friends and family arrested for aiding in jail escape
FacebookTweetLink Follow The 10 men who escaped from a New Orleans jail more than two weeks ago by cutting out a hole behind a toilet received help from at least 14 people, many of them friends and family who provided food, cash, transport and shelter according to court documents. Records reviewed by The Associated Press show how some of the fugitives received aid before and after their escape — including from a number of people named in police reports but not yet facing charges. A former jail employee is accused of driving escapee Lenton Vanburen to a relative's home and helping him FaceTime family the day of the escape, while another friend later offered him a hiding place in a vacant apartment he had been hired to repaint. Others sent money via apps, lied to authorities during interrogation and messaged or called the fugitives, police say. Some are now held on bonds $1 million or higher and most face the felony charge of accessory after the fact. In a city with an entrenched mistrust of the criminal justice system, authorities on Thursday raised the reward to $50,000 per fugitive. They stressed that friends and family are key to capturing the two remaining escapees, convicted murderer Derrick Groves and Antoine Massey, who faces kidnapping and rape charges. 'We understand that some of you might be reporting a friend, a loved one, a relative and albeit not easy, it is critical to your safety and the safety of the public that you report them,' Jonathan Tapp, special agent in charge of FBI New Orleans, said Thursday. After the audacious escape in the early hours of May 16, a woman who police described as 'associated' with Groves 'picked up' and transported escapee Vanburen to a relative's residence, the documents show. She then video-called Vanburen's sisters, who came to meet him. This woman — who has not been charged with aiding in the escape — shares the same name as a former Orleans Parish Sheriff's Office employee, according to court records. In 2023, that employee was arrested for bringing a folding knife and a bag of Cheetos containing tobacco and marijuana into the jail. The charges were dropped in part due to the woman's lack of criminal history and she 'successfully completed' a pretrial diversion program, the Orleans Parish District Attorney's office told The Associated Press. The Orleans Parish Sheriff's Office did not respond to request for comment. In a text message to an AP reporter, the woman denied bringing in contraband or aiding fugitives. Separately, authorities arrested a jail plumber they say helped the men escape, but his attorney maintains he was just trying to unclog a toilet. Several escapees, including Massey, relied on internet phone services to communicate with accomplices and 'avoid detection' by not leaving a trail of cellular signals, police reports say. Escapee Corey Boyd used an internet phone service to message several contacts seeking money and access to their iCloud accounts, threatening to kill one person if they did not comply, court records show. The FBI reviewed months of calls from Boyd's 'top caller' while incarcerated. They then found a brief call from a new phone number the night after the escape and used that to help track down Boyd. They discovered that Boyd's aunt was messaging him on Instagram to help him get food as hid in the apartment where a SWAT team captured him May 20. One of the women accused of helping Massey suffered from years of physical abuse from him, court records show. The woman, who had previously filed a protective order against Massey after he attempted to strangle her, was aware of his planned escape and later misled authorities, police say. She exchanged messages with Massey's 31-year-old sister saying they hoped he 'never gets caught.' Authorities staked out the New Orleans home of Massey's sister but a search six days after the escape turned up empty-handed. Police learned Massey had been inside the home before the raid and altered and deleted evidence on his sister's phone. Court records show police accuse Massey's sister of lying to them, slowing down the manhunt and forcing them to lose 'critical days and hours' in the search. At least seven of the people facing felony charges for aiding the fugitives have ties to Lenton Vanburen, Jr. according to authorities. After alerting two of his sisters by prison phone in the hours before his escape, he instructed they contact 'my girl' and provide her with a 'clean phone' so the two could communicate. The woman identified by police as Vanburen's love interest told The Associated Press she never received the phone and denied involvement in the escape plans. Vanburen's sisters met up with him the night of his escape at a family member's residence where he was able to shower, change clothes and was given toiletries. Another family member later reportedly took him to a relative's home in Mississippi. Vanburen was ultimately captured in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, on Monday and two men arrested this week were accused of helping him find shelter in a hotel — paid for in cash — and an apartment undergoing renovation. The Baton Rouge court system had no record of their legal representation. In another case, a 59-year-old Louisiana woman is accused of sending cash to fugitive Jermaine Donald, a family friend, according to her attorney. Lindsey Hortenstine, communications director for the Orleans Parish Public Defenders' office, said that most of the people arrested in connection with helping the fugitives have not yet secured attorneys. Louisiana State Police Superintendent Colonel Robert Hodges said tips from friends and family remain essential to locating the remaining fugitives. 'They're tired, they're looking over their shoulder, looking for resources,' Hodges said. 'I think the advantage goes to law enforcement and we need the public's help to ensure that we keep that advantage.'
Yahoo
13 hours ago
- General
- Yahoo
Trial date announced for man on rape, kidnapping charges
ST. LOUIS – A trial date has been set for Yaha Maly, who is accused of multiple crimes, including rape, sodomy and kidnapping in Ballwin. Maly, 28, has been jailed since mid-February on 19 counts related to these charges. The trial is scheduled to begin on April 6 of next year. Maly has previously lived in several cities across the United States, including Chicago, Richmond, Tucson and Minneapolis. Officials, however, fear there could be other victims. All facts in this report were gathered by journalists employed by KTVI. Artificial intelligence tools were used to reformat from a broadcast script into a news article for our website. This report was edited and fact-checked by KTVI staff before being published. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
