The shameful execution of Kansan Lisa Montgomery teaches us this lesson about justice

Lisa Montgomery — who early Wednesday became the first woman executed by the federal government in almost 70 years — is a powerful example of what the modern death penalty and criminal justice system in the United States have become. Instead of selecting the worst of the worst for the ultimate punishment, we can no longer ignore how these institutions feast on the weakest of the weak, the most damaged of the damaged, the most mentally ill of the mentally ill. Lisa’s execution is what inevitably happens when we collectively choose to value retribution over compassion, violence over decency, vengeance over mercy.

I should know. As an assistant public defender with the Kansas Death Penalty Defense Unit in the state public defender’s office, it is my job to defend people accused of capital murder. This job is unique. I must simultaneously mount a defense against underlying criminal charges and prepare arguments for sparing my clients’ lives. To be effective, I must plumb the depths of my clients’ suffering, where I almost always uncover stigmatizing and shameful histories of poverty, mental illness, substance abuse — and all too often, childhood sexual trauma. I must develop strong, intimate relationships with my clients based upon trust and compassion. I must see my clients as more than their worst deed. I must know these people’s humanity, and communicate their realities to a jury that will decide my clients’ fate.

Lisa is emblematic of this struggle. Her life’s story was infused with horrific abuse: She was gang-raped repeatedly as an 11-year-old girl by her stepfather and his friends. Her mother trafficked her in exchange for plumbing and electrical work. Her beloved pet dog was beaten to death in front of her by a family member. Further, Lisa lived with organic brain damage caused by fetal alcohol exposure and her stepfather smashing her head against the concrete floor of a room he built to rape her. As an adult, Lisa was diagnosed with bipolar disorder with psychotic features, fetal alcohol syndrome and severe post-traumatic stress disorder.

When a brain-damaged and abused child such as Lisa slips through the cracks, we as citizens bear the responsibility. We delude ourselves into believing that children are abused by fictitious satanic cabals in pizza parlors, when research tells us that sexual abuse occurs most often in our homes. We bear responsibility by defunding social safety nets and community mental health services, and by allowing our child protective services to languish, underfunded and overwhelmed. We bear responsibility by shaming and stigmatizing the victims of mental illness, substance abuse and sexual abuse. We bear responsibility by enacting harsh criminal penalties that sweep our collective failures under a rug of incarceration and lethal injection.

However, Lisa’s execution need not be in vain. Her death forces us to confront the grotesque cruelty of the death penalty and the criminal justice system at large. Just days before Lisa’s execution, lawmakers in Congress introduced legislation to abolish the federal death penalty. We can demonstrate that our standards of decency have evolved, and that our society has matured, by urging our federal and state lawmakers to abolish the death penalty as a concrete first step to reform our profoundly flawed criminal justice system.

In the midst of my anguish over Lisa’s execution, a wise friend reminded me that compassion is what guides us toward true justice; that compassion always finds the reverence of each person, even those among us who have committed horrible crimes; and that compassion reminds us of the possibility of redemption inherent in each and everyone of us.

May compassion be the guiding light leading us to evolve, mature and progress.

This story was originally published January 14, 2021 at 5:00 AM with the headline "The shameful execution of Kansan Lisa Montgomery teaches us this lesson about justice."