Polly Klaas’ sister opposes ‘regressive’ Prop 36

There was an indelible moment at the end of Jess Nichol’s recent lecture at the Dominican University in San Rafael.

“I have forgiven life,” said Nichol, whose sister and best friend, Polly Klaas, was kidnapped from her bedroom in Petaluma and murdered 31 years ago this month.

“But not him.”

She was referring to Polly’s killer, who is now on death row. (Nichol has asked me not to use the man’s name in this column, so I am honoring that request.)

Nichol, now 43, is not motivated by revenge. In a sublime twist, and despite the trauma inflicted on her family by one of the most infamous crimes in the state’s history, she is fueled by compassion – a desire to fix what she described as America’s “dysfunctional” criminal justice system .

She was interviewed onstage at Dominican by Don Carney, executive director of the Marin County-based Youth Transforming Justice, a white-haired, ponytailed social justice warrior who works to disrupt “the school-to-prison pipeline.”

Carney challenged Nichol on her fervent opposition to Proposition 36, the statewide anti-crime ballot measure that would reclassify some misdemeanor thefts and drug crimes as felonies.

Drafted in response to the spike in shoplifting and commercial burglaries during the pandemic, Prop 36 would roll back parts of Prop 47, the 2014 measure that aimed to reduce prison overcrowding by converting certain thefts and drug crimes to crimes.

Nichol and other critics of Prop 36 describe it as a misguided War On Drugs 2.0 that will worsen the overcrowding of the state’s prisons while consuming hundreds of millions of dollars in legal and punitive costs without significantly reducing crime.

Prop 36, which Nichol called “punitive” and “regressive,” would create a new class of crime called “Treatment Mandated Felony,” which would require drug offenders, if they complete a course of treatment, not to go to prison.

While it sounds reasonable and compassionate, this condition is hollow and “ridiculous,” Nichol said. She pointed out that nearly half of California counties have no drug treatment centers, and most of the programs that do exist “do not accept people from the criminal justice system.”

Does more harm than good

Whether it was about Prop 36 or her own past, Nichol wasn’t motivated by anger or revenge, even as she was tormented by those emotions over the years — “all the feelings you would expect after losing your sister,” including ‘wanting the man who killed Polly to suffer’.

While it’s “important to feel these emotions,” she emphasizes, it’s no less important not to act on them in the moment.

It’s a fool’s errand that feeds “the hungry spirit of vengeance,” as she put it. Because that spirit ‘can never be satisfied’.

Actions born of anger and revenge often end up “causing harm we don’t really want.”

She was referring to the kind of punitive, harsh criminal law that sounds appealing at first glance, but ultimately does more harm than good.

That’s how Nichol sees Prop 36. It’s also how she came to view the draconian precursor to that ballot measure.

California’s “Three Strikes and You’re Out” law was a harsher punitive measure passed in 1994, fueled in large part by the grim story of Polly Klaas.

“Three Strikes” mandated life sentences for felonies – if the defendants had two previous convictions for serious offenses. Twenty-three other states followed suit, as did the federal government, by passing the Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act of 1994, simply the Crime Bill.

Jess Nichol was 13 when she heard from her mother that because of these new laws passed on Polly’s behalf, some people would be locked up for life for relatively minor crimes – “like breaking into a church or stealing a slice of pizza,” Jess recalls . .

She was shocked and saddened. But the junior high version of Jess Nichol wasn’t ready to act on those feelings. Her healing journey would last decades.

“In college, I went in and didn’t want to talk about it, because it was such a charged topic for so many people, and I didn’t want to be known as ‘Polly Klaas’ sister.’”

She went to therapy sessions, “but I wasn’t really ready for therapy yet. Just living like a normal person was the most healing thing there is.”

She started a business, “and did things that were productive and normal, and kind of set it aside.”

Awaken

Around the time Nichol turned thirty, “she began to come out of her shell socially and learned how to facilitate groups and even mediate conflicts.” She found support and empathy by joining the 187,000-member Crime Survivors for Safety and Justice.