Spotlight on Criminal Justice
Sentencing inconsistency
Jimmy Milon had been addicted to crack cocaine for almost 15 years when he was arrested in 2002 on forgery charges, a crime he had committed to feed
his habit. Milon had worked periodically and committed crimes to maintain his life style. He was what he called a functioning addict. He moved to Madison in
2001 to get away from his problems in his native Chicago. However, he fell right into the same crack cocaine habit. He hadn’t yet realized that he was part of
the problem and his problems had come with him to Madison.
Milon can still remember the moment when he came to the realization about himself. “October 27, 2003 is when I had the realization at Dodge Correctional
Institution,” Milon recalled. When I looked outside that window and saw those gates, I knew I wasn’t going home. That’s when I realized that I had a problem. I
turned my will over then to God. I said ‘I can’t do this.’”
While he was in prison, Milon vowed to turn his life around — and he did. When he was at Oakhill Correctional, Milon landed a job at a foundry, which he
kept when he was released. He was also able to make the connections so that he would be released into a different environment when he got out.
“When I got out, I went to a halfway house called Arise Family Services,” Milon said. “I stayed there for a couple of months. The Lord put my wife back into my
life and we began to form a relationship between the two of us and walk in the same direction. That’s when my life began to change for the better. You can walk
out this door and the problem is right there. But you have that choice to say no and mean it. It’s real simple and yet, so hard. I disrupted my old patterns or if I
didn’t, I would fall right back into those same things.”
For the most part, Milon has stayed on the straight and narrow, although he confided that he has taken some steps backward since he’s been out. “I have
failed a couple of times and I’m not ashamed to say it because the only fight you lose is the one you lay down on,” Milon emphasized. “It knocked me down, but
I was able to get up and identify the situation that caused it. I was able to see the things that led up to it. And it was something that I wanted to go back to and I
was going back to some more pain, heartaches and suffering. So I said ‘Lord, this isn’t me. You didn’t bring me this far to put me back there.’ So I realized that
and I understood and shared with the people who are supportive of me such as my pastor, my wife and my best friend Jerome. And I was able to recognize the
situation.”
Dillard also had to analyze the factors that contributed to him going to prison before he could get control of his life. “I had been sitting in the joint talking
with a ‘Lifer,’” Dillard recalled. “He was about 65 years old. We were seeing people come back in who were released. And the old man looked at me and said
‘You cats do not prepare for your release before you get out.’ That impacted me. I thought about it. The previous two times, I just got out with no plan and no
idea of what I was going to do. I was just getting out. So this time, I began to identify the anti-socials in my life by name: my mother, grandmother, everyone I
knew. And I began to red dot those who used drugs and hustled. I learned that everyone I knew was anti-social. No one I knew worked. In looking at that and my
life, I realized that if I went back to Chicago or if I went to Milwaukee, it was pretty likely I would wind up the same. It was paying dues coming out here because
I still couldn’t find a job. But I found one washing dishes. And I had a group of Christian men around me who encouraged me. That made a difference to me
because I was learning life-skills. I was being around men who were raising their children and loving their wives and taking care of their business. They were
getting up going to work every day. This was foreign to me.”
Milon and Dillard were fortunate to find employment and encircle themselves with positive support that kept them away from the influences — including, at
times, their own attitudes —that led them down the path to crack cocaine. Others are not so fortunate. “You can get treatment,” Dillard said about people
leaving prison. “But if you are coming out to the same community with the same peers, then how effective is that going to be if we’re not getting support in the
community? If we’re not finding jobs, what good is it going to do?”

By Jonathan Gramling
Part 2 of 3
Last December, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in a case that Federal judges could hand down lighter sentences for
convictions concerning crack cocaine than federal sentencing guidelines specify. The Court handed down the ruling, in large
part, because of the wide disparity in length of sentence for powder and crack cocaine. 80 percent of those sentenced for crack
cocaine are African American, while Euro-Americans and Latinos tend to prefer powder cocaine.
The sentencing disparity between crack and powder cocaine is just one of the straws that contribute to the disproportionate
number of African Americans, particularly young men, who are imprisoned in the state of Wisconsin. In fact, Wisconsin has the
second largest disproportionate rate of confining African American men in the country.
One of the main reasons a disproportionate number of African American men are behind bars in Wisconsin, according to
Jerome Dillard, the leader of Voices Beyond Bars, is once African American men are released from prison, they go back to the
same neighborhoods and influences that led them to getting locked up in the first place. “Our recidivism is ridiculous at 70
percent,” Dillard said. “They aren’t committing new crimes. They are committing violations of their parole.”
Jerome Dillard works on
ex-offender issues through
the Madison-area Urban
Ministry and Voices Beyond
Bars
Jimmy Milon made fresh start of his life after being released from prison
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