Angels with Dirty Faces: Three Stories of Crime, Prison, and Redemption

by Walidah Imarisha

"There was a time I believed prisons existed to rehabilitate people, to make our communities safer. . . . When I saw for the first time (but not the last) a mother sobbing and clutching her son when visiting hours were up, only to be physically pried off and escorted out by guards, I knew nothing about that made me safer. This is the heart of this country's prison system. And the prison system has become the heart of America."—Walidah Imarisha, from the introduction. This is no romanticized tale of crime and punishment. The three lives in this creative nonfiction account are united by the presence of actual harm—sometimes horrific violence. Walidah Imarisha, a sexual assault survivor, brings us behind prison walls to visit her incarcerated brother Kakamia and his fellow inmate Jimmy "Mac" McElroy, a member of the Irish gang the Westies. Together they explore the People can do unimaginable damage to one another—and then what? What do we as a society do? What might redemption look like? Imarisha doesn't flinch as she guides us through the complexities and contradictions of transformative justice, eschewing theory for a much messier reality. The result is a nuanced and deeply personal analysis that allows readers to connect emotionally with the stories she shares, and the people behind them. Walidah Imarisha is a writer, organizer, educator, and spoken-word artist. She is the co-editor of Octavia's Science Fiction Stories From Social Justice Movements and author of the collection of poetry Scars/Stars.

Genres: Nonfiction, Politics, Memoir, Race, Crime, True Crime, Social Issues

258 pages, Kindle Edition

First published February 9, 2016

About the author

Walidah Imarisha is a writer, public scholar, educator and spoken word artist. She co-edited the anthology Octavia’s Brood: Science Fiction Stories from Social Justice Movements, and was one of the editors of the first anthology about 9/11, Another World is Possible. She authored Angels with Dirty Faces: Three Stories of Crime, Prisons, and Redemption, winner of the 2017 Oregon Book Award for Creative Nonfiction, as well as a poetry collection Scars/Stars. Imarisha is currently working on a book about Oregon Black history, forthcoming from AK Press. Her work has appeared in dozens of publications, including the hip hop anthology Total Chaos: The Art And Aesthetics of Hip Hop, Letters From Young Activists, Word Warriors: 35 Women Leaders in the Spoken Word Revolution, The Quotable Rebel, Daddy, Can I Tell You Something, Joe Strummer: Punk Rock Warlord and Life During Wartime: Resisting Counterinsurgency. She directed and co-produced the Katrina documentary Finding Common Ground in New Orleans. She has taught at Stanford University, Portland State University, and Oregon State University.

Reviews

[S.P. Aruna · Rating 2 out of 5]

Disappointing. Some interesting historical snippets. Otherwise a dysfunctional book

[Brian · Rating 5 out of 5]

Walidah Imarisha is remarkable. This book, which began as her MFA thesis, has been described as "creative nonfiction", and Imarisha herself says, "Any nonfiction book must be read partially as fiction, for we all tell ourselves stories to make sense of our lives." "Angels With Dirty Faces" tells three stories, two of them focusing on men who served or are serving prison sentences, the other the story of the person who is bringing their stories out from behind the prison bars (Imarisha). If you are concerned about prison and criminal justice reform, if you are concerned about sexual assault, if you are interested in the potential for transformative justice, or are ready to expand your sense of compassion, this book will provide you with joy, pain, enlightenment, anger, and poetry (Imarisha: "Facts are not poetic enough to reveal the rhythm of a human heart. We thank poetry for its inaccuracies—imperfect cracks on the face of beauty through which the light is able to shine through—word to poet Leonard Cohen."). Word to poet, activist, teacher, visionary fiction writer, and inspirational human being Walidah Imarisha.

[Vishnu · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a tough book to get through. So compelling, so thoughtful, and so heartbreaking. After reading it, I think I am finally ready to call myself a prison abolitionist. I deeply appreciate Imarisha's personal honesty in writing these stories. She has no pretense of objectivity, and it is her ultimate humanity, as well as the humanity of those who have caused pain and suffering to others, that is deeply moving about this book.

[lucien alexander “sasha” · Rating 5 out of 5]

I had to get this book from the San Francisco public library via interlibrary loan, because Oakland doesn't have its own copy. A damn shame. This book should be on the shelves of every public, high school, and college library in the country. Walidah Imarisha tells three stories: her own, and those of her adopted brother and his adopted uncle (both of whom are incarcerated). Her writing is as humanizing as it is heartwrenching. What would a world without prisons look like? She asks this question, over and over, without answering. She situates violence and trauma within local, societal, and global contexts; her descriptions of their survivors and perpetrators (and honestly, who among us has not been both?) are both unflinching and humane. I cried often while reading this book, but most of all I felt a strengthening of my resolve to imagine and work toward a world without prisons.

[Chance Grable · Rating 5 out of 5]

Perfect blend of memoir, creative nonfiction and political education. Provides a much needed synthesis between the lived experience of incarceration and the broader political, economic and social forces that drive mass incarceration.
Instead of hitting the reader of the head with her political vision, Imarisha invites the reader to imagine a better world with her and to share in her frustration of the very real challenges and forces that get in the way. This book does not provide the political solutions or alternatives to incarceration I hoped that it would, instead it expanded my imagination and framework so that I can articulate and actualize solutions and alternatives that work for me and my communities.

[Ariel · Rating 5 out of 5]

I never give book reviews, but I see this book as a must-read for anyone who has ever questioned the current trends towards mass incarceration and the "rehabilitation" that goes on behind bars. This book is a testament to the humanity that thrives despite the most inhumane of circumstances and is a brave testament to those wounded by the systems that control our current systems. I had to stop myself from reading it all in one sitting. It is a truly incredible work.

[Jenny · Rating 5 out of 5]

Update: I read this book a year ago, and I find that it continues to stick with me. It is worthy of wholehearted recommendation, and so I am revising my rating from 4 to 5. Read some of the other reviews. I agree with them.

A beautifully written book about crime and justice. If I could give half stars, this one would get 4.5.

[Sophia Gustafson · Rating 3 out of 5]

One quote at the end of the book summarizes my main frustration with this book.

Imarisha writes, “This book is not the book that works to answer the question posed in the beginning, “Sometimes people do bad things, and then what?” There are many other brilliant minds crafting those answers collectively, on and off the page.” (231).

At the beginning of this book, I was expecting a neat, orderly synopsis of three different stories and how they support abolitionist ideologies. I also thought this book would teach me more about radical forgiveness and acceptance. Instead, Imarisha tells a story that is much more muddled. The three stories she writes are loosely correlated to abolition and radical forgiveness. The three stories give us no real answers to how to solve problems with our criminal justice system. Mentions of restorative justice are slim and are not offered as a real solution to the problems Imarisha highlights throughout the book.

This book is fractured and non-linear which takes the reader on a frustrating path with no clear solution. Although it was Imarisha’s intention to show they reader the grays in the world and to show the complex nature of what punishments and forgiveness look like, I am still left wanting more.

Imarisha could have shown the gray areas of forgiveness and punishment with any one of these three stories. I am still confused as to what purpose each three of them individually plays within the book as a whole.

In some parts this book is brilliantly written and unquestionably powerful. However, the book as a whole seems to lack direction or cohesion.

This review is very reactionary. I just put it down. However, the end of this book disappointed me.

[tonia peckover · Rating 5 out of 5]

(all books get 5 stars) I'm so conflicted about this book. I agree wholeheartedly with the need for prison reform and the humanizing of prisoners. Imarisha earned my respect with her honesty and willingness to admit that these issues are too complicated for pat answers. My main problem with the book is structural. Of the three stories, the first two do the best at making Imarisha's case that sometimes people make appallingly bad choices, but we could create a society that truly seeks reformation instead of just incarceration. Her last story, which is about an infamous mob hitman, however, seems out of place. She states that she wants to confront the hard stories about real criminals, but mostly she just wants to say that even people who murder a lot of people for money have a human side. Which I agree with, but I think this section dilutes her point overall. The questions that are unanswered are so large that they seem to shout by the end of the book. I found myself wondering if she would feel the same about these men if she had to deal with them outside of prison where their actions are limited? Loving someone who continually messes up their own and others' lives can be exhausting. I also wonder if we actually expect victims to be involved with the restoration process of their abusers? Is there ever a debt to society that isn't reformable? Or an offender that will continue to offend unless they are physically stopped? I'm not at all saying that Imarisha should have the answers for all of those things. She is right that these things are messy and individual and sometimes unsolvable, but I think the form of the book forces the reader to ask these hard questions and Imarisha mostly avoids them, which for me, was disappointing.

[Nicolas Lontel · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ce livre est probablement le meilleur que j'ai lu cette année.

Il y a beaucoup beaucoup beaucoup de choses qui y sont discutées du système carcéral américain aux agressions sexuelles et les processus de justice réparatrice/transformatrice qui ne sont pas toujours le nirvana de ce qu'on attend d'eux.

De ce que c'est d'avoir de la famille en prison aux States, à l'emprisonnement politique, à une réflexion sur l'écriture des récits des prisonniers, à la correspondance, aux relations amoureuses pour les prisonniers et leur partenaire, à être une personne trans dans (la mauvaise) prison, à être handicapé·e, etc.

Vraiment vraiment beaucoup de chose, Une des mes poètes/auteures préférées et ce dernier livre d'elle ne fait pas exception.

«Angels with Dirty Faces is no romanticized tale of crime and punishment. The three lives in this creative nonfiction account are united by the presence of actual harm—sometimes horrific violence. Imarisha, dealing with the complexities of her own experience with sexual assault and accountability, brings us behind prison walls to visit her adopted brother Kakamia and his fellow inmate Jimmy “Mac” McElroy, a member of the brutal Irish gang the Westies. Together they explore the questions: People can do unimaginable things to one another—and then what? What do we as a society do? What might redemption look like?

Imarisha doesn’t flinch as she guides us through the difficulties and contradictions, eschewing theory for a much messier reality. The result is a nuanced and deeply personal analysis that connects readers emotionally with the lives of people caught up within, and often destroyed by, our criminal justice system.»

[Jackie Jones]

This author discusses the prison system in our country and the disproportionate number of
Black men who are a part of those numbers. The system is not fair to those who are not white and/or poor. The author discussed if you are transgendered in prison, it is an
incredibly difficult and harsh journey. Prison is already a lonely and harsh place and to be LGBTQ+ is an added concern for safety. Prisons are people in warehouses who are not always there for something they did and become institutionalized while there. The system can be unfair and wrongfully convict people. A quote from the book “Prison is power: control of the individual, community, people, nation. It is taking from our community and our spirits that are not given. It is a threat to all of us.” Until we do a better job of keeping people out of prison especially those of color or those who are marginalized where we see change. There is a lot of work to do, and the system is slow to change, and, in the meantime, people of color are dying in prison and a lot of times for nonviolent crimes, they have done for those they didn’t do.

[Ivy · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book...is enlightening. It's explored so many ideas related to prison, dissent, politics, crime, harm, growth, choice, and forgiveness that I've often thought about and touched on in my mind, but in an incredibly personal and nuanced and comprehensive way. The case studies Walidah presents in herself, her brother, and her uncle, show the difficulty in making anything too cut and dry or black and white. Though undoubtedly challenging the justice system we currently have, she only hints at alternative solutions, instead focusing on giving us the perspective we need to approach that problem. These people have helped me form a framework in which to view the world better, not just as good guys or bad guys, gangsters or cops, oppressors or oppressed, violators or victims. It's helped to contextualized that people can make bad choices, do terrible things to each other, but that for healing and change to happen, we need to view each other as flawed. As human.

Violence: Moderate
Sex: Mild
Drugs: Moderate
Language: Moderate

[Danni Green · Rating 5 out of 5]

Walidah Imarisha is an incredible storyteller and her interweaving of these stories is magnificent. Each manages to be deeply personal while offering a world of insight as to how the stories of these three individuals came to be so interconnected and how their stories tell a larger story of the system of institutionalized violence and power abuse plays out in the USA. At the same time, the author uses these stories to compel readers to deeply consider alternatives to incarceration and how those might be implemented in communities, a call to action I believe we cannot afford to ignore. Highly recommended.

content warning: graphic descriptions of violence including prison abuse, sexual assault, and one chapter in particular with gruesome descriptions of murder and body disposal (which I basically just skimmed)

[Rick · Rating 4 out of 5]

I found this on a display of black pacific northwest writers at my local library. I had read a memoir a couple of years ago called Writing My Wrongs: Life, Death, and Redemption in an American Prison by Shaka Senghor a: Life, Death, and Redemption in an American Prison and believe our prison system to be barbaric and morally repugnant & corrupt. Walidah is a spoken word artist as well as an activist and both of those vocations are apparent throughout the book, particularly the poetry. If you do believe in redemption, what do we do with people who have committed grievous harm to others? What I found fascinating in this book is how she looks deeply into the lives of two men who have committed murder but used their experience in prison to become better men.

"America used to make cars. Now we make prisoners."

[Summer · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is a courageous, honest, unflinching, tender act of witnessing. Imarisha deftly weaves three stories together, including her own, gaining painful and revelatory insights along the way that inform our very understanding of what it means to be human in the midst of personal and structural traumas and transgressions. A true storyteller and passionate prison abolition activist, Imarisha refuses to romanticize reality; and in so doing she reveals the depths of cruelty and devastation wrought by the prison industrial complex.

“The pieces of the larger whole I hope to bring are the stories of angels with dirty faces. The capriciousness of fate. The idea that every person has the capacity to salvage their tattered humanity, even in the moment before they take their last breath. I want to remind people to say a prayer for all of the children who couldn't run as fast as we could.”

[Catherine · Rating 5 out of 5]

When Imarisha talks about her brother, I’m immediately reminded of my own brother and our experience as a family when he was imprisoned. I remember the waiting rooms and the visiting booths. I’m thrown back to wondering who these people were who now lived with my brother, closer than I could be. He came out a different person from who he was when he went in. But I wouldn’t say rehabilitated was the word to describe him. I’m glad too for this work to give voice to political prisoners - it certainly does that even though the focus is on Imarisha, her brother, and Mac. Hard things in here, great questions, and while there are not necessarily answers to those, there are answers about what not to continue doing.

[Brian G. Murphy · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the most moving — and most important — books I've ever read. Masterfully weaves together the personal and the political. It confronts uncomfortable truths and asks tough questions. It's filled with hope and grace. At times, it felt like I was reading a sacred text.

I think it will be especially useful for folks who are just starting to learn about prison reform and prison abolition. It's accessible while also providing lots of breadcrumbs for further reading and research.

[Tristan Hunt · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book had me crying.

Everyone - especially anyone who has any connection at all to the prison system - should read this book.

Sometimes fascinating, sometimes heartbreaking, but always deeply human.

It also makes you think - about RICO, about bending justice to "get the bad guys" and how it ultimately bends back onto you.

But never, seemingly, onto the CEOs.

[Dave · Rating 5 out of 5]

I cannot overstate the impression that this book has had on me. It's raw, and real, and so heartbreaking. I'll have to write a more substantial review once I've had time for my brain to digest it all.

[janelle]

this is a creative nonfiction work about incarceration and a really important read—esp because mainstream discourse about prisons tends to focus on “innocent” vs “guilty.” a lot of valuable insight on the criminal legal system, race, abolition, accountability and transformative justice.

[Abigail Lovelady Partlow · Rating 5 out of 5]

A beautiful blending of three lives, set in a society that fails to question itself. Walidah uses three people’s experiences to examine problems with the prison system and policing in general. Very timely and insightful.

[Kate Klein · Rating 5 out of 5]

this book is brilliant. you should read it.

[Judie · Rating 4 out of 5]

An eye-opening, insightful piece on the prison system and its alternatives.

[Madeline Pape · Rating 4 out of 5]

Read this forever ago (or what feels like so). It was the first book to really engage me on an emotional level with abolition. HIGHLY recommend.

[Lora · Rating 5 out of 5]

Find the Wanza 🌳

[Ian Luther · Rating 5 out of 5]

I struggled between 4 and 5 stars for a bit, cause it's right on the line. But there were moments that were so poignant and so thought provoking, and because the whole book overall is so important, I went with 5. An incredibly important book, with insight into how economics, capitalism, crime, punishment, justice, and humanity are tied together inextricably.

[Faelan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Took me a minute to digest this. What an incredible book! I extremely appreciate the blend of memoir and political non-fiction. It's engaging and I found it to be accessible in terms of language and narrative. Not dry or too dense, but packs as much of a punch as any theory I've encountered on the prison industrial complex. The personal perspectives presented here are SO IMPORTANT to folks (such as myself) who haven't dealt with the penal system firsthand in most capacities. Stories like these bring something to the table that a lot of informative non-fiction misses when writing about the politics of incarceration: the humanity and lives of the incarcerated. The focus here is not on proving innocence, but on humanity, accountability and the broken system we are implicit in. Comes recommended to anyone and everyone.

[Elissa · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was incredible. It was hard to read not because it was poorly written or dense, but because this book demanded I think and rethink. A lot. About who I am, the country and the skin that I live in, and the bare injustice of the prison system.

This book really asked me to recognize how much I don't know about the history and the actualities of our prison system, and how the many ways we do violence to each other and to ourselves are connected. Bodily autonomy and consent. Justice and revenge. Power and community. Incarceration and slavery. The challenge of living your beliefs when they hurt.

[Ryan Mishap · Rating 5 out of 5]

A phenomenal work of narrative biography and memoir, radical history, explication of the prison system, and an exploration of how people in our communities can keep each other safe, accountable, and able to keep on in spite of the state.

I cannot overstate how humanizing, honest, and heartbreaking this unique book is. I won't spend a lot of time here--though there's a ton of stuff to talk about--because you should just go read this.

Now, yes, now, please.

[David · Rating 5 out of 5]

A powerful linkage crafting Walidah's life experiences with her witness to the maelstrom of American values and judgments of "morality". As she says in the book; "The state does not abhor violence . . . [or] to murder; it has a MONOPOLY on it"! A powerfully written declaration of what our society has created by the prejudice born at it's roots.