{"id":5619,"date":"2012-02-14T10:41:16","date_gmt":"2012-02-14T16:41:16","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.wnpt.org\/mediaupdate\/?p=5619"},"modified":"2012-02-20T11:27:04","modified_gmt":"2012-02-20T17:27:04","slug":"media-update-what-if-davidson-countys-youngest-murderer-had-been-interrupted","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.wnpt.org\/mediaupdate\/2012\/02\/14\/media-update-what-if-davidson-countys-youngest-murderer-had-been-interrupted\/","title":{"rendered":"(Media Update) What If `Davidson County`s Youngest Murderer` Had Been `Interrupted?`"},"content":{"rendered":"

By Molly Secours<\/em><\/p>\n

\"Molly
Molly Secours<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

When I first met Terrence he was 16 years old and had already been living in a Nashville Juvenile prison for four years. Arrested at 12 years old for fatally shooting a 40-year old man during a \u2018drug deal gone bad,\u2019 Terrence had the dubious honor of being dubbed \u2018Davidson County\u2019s youngest murderer\u2019 and one of the youngest inmates ever to be incarcerated in the state of Tennessee.<\/p>\n

As a 16 year old, Terrence possessed a quiet intelligence and harbored a passion (and talent) for writing that was cultivated and nurtured by an English teacher in prison. At the time, I was teaching a life skills course in the juvenile facility, and because of Terrence\u2019s enthusiasm, we decided to write a screenplay together as a class.<\/p>\n

The first week the youth were instructed to write an outline, a list of characters and bring four pages of dialog to our next session. The following week, most of the students had either forgotten or refused to complete the assignment — except for Terrence. He came to class with 40 handwritten pages of a screenplay with dialog that rivaled any episode of The Wire<\/em> in terms of authenticity, intensity and drama.<\/p>\n

Terrence\u2019s writing skills garnered him high praise and a prize after one of his essays was published in a regional magazine. In the essay, Terrence expressed regret and remorse for having taken a man\u2019s life at the age of 12.<\/p>\n

After reading the essay, members of the victim\u2019s family visited Terrence in prison and began writing to him, sending him birthday cards and following his progress.<\/p>\n

When Terrence became a legal adult, in spite of the forgiveness he received from the victim\u2019s family and the numerous pleas on his behalf to release him \u2014 including the prosecuting attorney in his original case who felt it would be a waste to sentence someone so promising to adult prison — Terrence was transferred to state prison where he remained until the age of 25.<\/p>\n

Having been raised and socialized in prison, these last two years of \u2018freedom\u2019 for Terrence have been frightening, stressful and filled with rejection. In the worst economy in decades, getting a job for a convicted felon with no degree and\/or marketable skills, is nearly impossible.<\/p>\n

I asked Terrence once if he ever imagined how things might have worked out differently, or if he ever wondered what would have happened if someone had interrupted him on the way to selling drugs that day?<\/p>\n

\u201cDo I think about it? Only every day.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"The
The Interrupters<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

It was Terrence I had in mind while watching The Interrupters<\/em><\/a> at the 2011 Nashville Film Festival last spring. Directed by Steve James (Hoop Dreams<\/em>) and shot over the course of a year in Chicago, the film premieres tonight on NPT at 8:00 p.m. via Frontline<\/a><\/em>, It follows Ameena and two other interrupters, Eddie Bocanegra and Cobe Williams, as they attempt to intervene before situations turn violent: two brothers threatening to shoot each other; an angry teenage girl just home from prison; a young man heading down a warpath of revenge.<\/p>\n

Many of the interrupters have previously lived lives of crime, some have actually done prison time, but most essential is they all possess some heavy-duty street cred that will garner them trust and respect in volatile situations.<\/p>\n

As I was leaving the Interrupters screening that day, I contacted Ron Johnson<\/a>, Director of Nashville\u2019s Oasis Center R.E.A.L program<\/a> (R<\/strong>eaching E<\/strong>xcellence A<\/strong>s L<\/strong>eaders) and asked him if he\u2019d seen the film. As someone who was the oldest of 10 boys raised in Memphis housing projects carrying a pistol from a young age, Johnson has some street cred of his own. After managing to make it into the NFL and being released for unprofessional behavior, Johnson began selling drugs and served 4 years in a federal prison.<\/p>\n

Like the interrupters in the film, Johnson now devotes his life to intervening before violence occurs and sharing hard-earned wisdom from the streets with young people like Terrence \u2014 before it\u2019s too late. He said that watching the film gave him hope, and although he knew there were others out there doing similar work, it was inspiring and encouraging that just a few hours away in Chicago were people like Ameena, Eddie Bocanegra and Cobe Williams.<\/p>\n

What is clear from watching The Interrupters<\/em> is that anyone willing to dedicate his or her life to disrupting violence must be part visionary, part counselor and perhaps even part-crazy. It takes someone capable of seeing above, below and beyond hopelessness of someone like Terrence, that is often the root of violence. And it takes someone with keen vision to see through a person\u2019s past (also like Terrence) who might have just what it takes, to become an interrupter himself.<\/p>\n

But after seeing the film it\u2019s clear that mostly, being an interrupter requires heart. How appropriate that The Interrupters<\/em> premieres today<\/a>, Valentines Day.<\/p>\n