A Knock at Midnight: A Story of Hope, Justice, and Freedom

Deciding to follow her heart, and buoyed by the advice of her loved ones, Barnett left ORIX and corporate law to work on clemency cases full time. As President Obama’s second term was ending, time was literally running out on clemency hopes. To ensure that as many deserving people as possible had the opportunity to file for clemency, Barnett enlisted the help of law students at Southern Methodist University, her alma mater. The law students drafted petitions under her supervision, while Barnett took on four new clients as well.

Attending the Democratic National Convention in July 2016, Barnett sought to make personal appeals to Congress members and others in positions of influence. She was asked to speak at a panel called Truth to Power and was subsequently invited to lead a campaign spearheaded by Van Jones called #ClemencyNOW. The campaign’s goal was to publicly pressure President Obama to grant more clemencies in his final months in office. In her role as leader, Barnett organized a “multiday, nationwide social justice event, #ClemencyNOW’s Hope for the Holidays” (267). More than 75 family members converged on Washington, and videos were made so those in prison could be seen and heard. Major news outlets covered the event, and more than 2 million signatures were delivered to the Department of Justice. The stakes seemed all the higher because the 2016 election results were in: Donald Trump would be the next president.

Once again, the wait was torturous; it was especially devastating for those families whose petitions were denied. In this very trying time, Corey sent Barnett the text of Dr. Martin Luther King’s sermon “A Knock at Midnight.” Urging people to hope at the darkest hour, King explained that the man who continues to “persistently knock” will not be denied justice. Dawn will come. On December 19, dawn came for Corey Jacobs. He was one of 231 individuals granted clemency.

After a much-needed respite in Arizona, Barnett returned home “emotionally raw” and uncertain about her future with Obama out of office and the clemency option seemingly off the table. Then a journalist told her about federal Judge Kevin Sharp’s resignation in protest of drug-sentencing laws. In an interview Judge Sharp highlighted Chris Young’s life sentence, claiming it was wrong. Barnett would take Chris Young’s case.

While Chris’s case was familiar, it was made remarkable by Chris’s life story and extraordinary intelligence. Chris grew up in extreme poverty, experienced the trauma of a mother’s addiction, witnessed his murdered cousin in a pool of blood, and later found his own brother who had shot himself. Chris also battled sickle-cell anemia. With his mother not working due to her addiction, Chris began working low-paying jobs at age 14. It was not enough, and he turned to selling drugs out of economic necessity. Convicted twice on minor possession charges, it became even harder to get a job. At 22, he was arrested with others at a gas station, even though his name was not on the original indictment for dealing crack. Initially offered a plea deal of 14 years and later 22 years, Chris turned both down. He was a small-time seller, not part of a large conspiracy, and so he opted for a trial. Predictably, he was convicted, and with the prosecutor invoking an 851 enhancement based on his previous felony drug convictions, the judge had no choice but to sentence him to life.

At his sentencing, Chris gave a 45-minute speech that stated “in his own words, how he came to be in this place, and what he might accomplish if he got out” (293). In doing so, he referenced scholars, inventors, and historical figures in a “fascinatingly coherent” (292) way. Chris impressed Judge Sharp, who was haunted by the sentence that the law demanded. In Sharp’s mind, the sentence was revenge, not justice, that the low-level players received the harshest punishments.

After nearly 18 years in prison, Corey Jacobs was released to a halfway house. Emerging with a “treasure chest of survivorship” (299), Corey thanked Barnett, and they feasted at his best friend’s house. Chris remained in prison, but that did not stop him from dreaming. He was considering “using psycholinguistics and social media algorithms to help people who were suicidal” (301). The cause was dear to his heart, given his brother’s suicide.

Together with Corey and Sharanda, Barnett launched the Buried Alive Project, which focuses on “freeing people serving life sentences under yesterday’s drug laws” (303). The lives of those sentenced were buried alive, and what’s more, they were invisible. To rectify that, this project sought exposure. Chris and Sharanda’s friend Alice were featured on the project’s website.

After doing a Mic.com interview, Alice received extensive exposure. Her story moved Kim Kardashian so much that she asked Ivanka Trump to arrange a meeting with the president. After hearing Kardashian’s plea for Alice, who had served 21 years in prison, President Trump granted her clemency in June 2018.

When Alice visited Sharanda, Barnett and several others who had been released celebrated. Barnett continued to work for Chris, who did not benefit from the Fair Sentencing Act of 2010, as lawmakers did not make all provisions of the bill retroactive. Chris is a genius, yet he sits in prison. His case and the cases of so many others are the unjust result of an unfair criminal justice system and “a culture deeply rooted in economic oppression and history” (313). Barnett seeks to shift the paradigm to show the positive impact of formerly incarcerated people.