- Dawson Johns works for Black and Pink, an organization that fights to abolish prisons.
- Johns helps coordinate a letter-writing program to incarcerated people and writes letters themselves.
This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Dawson Johns. It has been edited for length and clarity.
A few times a month, I sit down to write a letter to my inside friends. By "inside," I mean in prison.
I've never met the people I'm writing to, but they've become my brothers and sisters in the LGBTQ+ community. For many of them, receiving a letter is a critical reminder that someone on the outside cares. Hearing your name during mail call has real emotional importance for people who are imprisoned — not only giving them a mental boost but signaling to others that people care about them.
Letter writing might seem old-fashioned, but it's one of the most reliable and affordable ways to reach people who are imprisoned. In my role as the insider member support coordinator for Black and Pink, a national organization that fights to abolish prisons, I help match inside members with people on the outside who are willing to write to them through our pen-pal program. For LGBTQ+ people, pen pals are especially important because they are often estranged from their families.
I focus on bringing joy to the people I'm writing
Some inside folks sign up for our pen-pal program because they're looking for someone to confide in. They have no one to share their experiences with, and they want that comfort and connection with another human.
Others are looking for more of an activist friend. Activists can help incarcerated people advocate for themselves and connect with resources, while also fighting for the abolition of prisons.
My favorite type of requests are from folks looking to make a romantic connection. Those requests are pretty common, and they're always fun. I get to feel like I'm a matchmaker or setting up a dating site for people who don't have access to those simple joys that we on the outside take for granted.
When writing a letter, sparking joy can be as simple as telling someone about your day. Even a one-time letter writer delivers a sense of hope and community that can brighten life on the inside.
Writing to people in prison can be difficult
Corresponding with people in prison can be very heavy. I've had people write to me with descriptive experiences about the harm and discrimination they face inside. That's especially difficult to process as a fellow member of the LGBTQ+ community who lives with discrimination daily.
I also feel myself getting down if I focus too much on the barriers to letter writing. Sometimes I have a feeling a letter isn't going to get delivered to the person I'm writing to. Prisons will move people and change their address and we don't get an update. There's little chance of mail getting forwarded in prison — just another way that the system isolates people.
Despite the difficulties, I love writing to inside folks. I get to hear their stories and give them space to share. Some of the stories are good, and some are bad. Some are PG, and some definitely aren't. But it's always an honor to hear about someone else and how they operate in the world. The benefits of writing far outweigh the costs for me.
I speak with one of my pen pals regularly
Pen-pal relationships can stay at a surface level, but oftentimes, the relationships progress. I talk on the phone regularly with one of our inside members who I write to. Hearing their voice is so special. It's more of a connection.
Getting started can feel awkward, but after you've written that first letter (which can be a simple introduction and a bit about your day) the whole communication has summer camp vibes.
Some of the things I care about — like supporting the LGBTQ+ community, uplifting trans Black women, and ending the prison industry — can feel daunting and overwhelming, and I know I can't do those things alone. But I can take time out of my week to write to someone who might not have any other communication with the outside world. In that way, I know I'm making a difference, even when there's tons of work still to be done.