BK Mag: Local Legends: Derrick Hamilton is freeing the wrongfully convicted

Published In: BK Mag

“We try to make sure that humanity is what we’re giving them.”

That’s Derrick Hamilton, talking about the purpose of the organization he co-founded, Friends and Family of the Wrongfully Convicted. The group has a multi-tiered mission, aimed at supporting people who have been locked up despite being innocent. First, the organization provides legal support (with help from the Perlmutter Center for Legal Justice at Cardozo School of Law, where Hamilton is a deputy director) for people who they believe are wrongfully convicted, and publicizes those cases. It also raises public awareness around the issue of wrongful conviction more broadly. It advocates for criminal justice reform. And, perhaps closest to Hamilton’s heart, it provides direct support to people who have been released from prison after being wrongfully incarcerated.

“You come out to a society where everything is moving faster than the pace that they’re used to,” he says. “And it’s good to have somebody with you that’s been through it—someone that can tell you, ‘Look, I’ve been there.’”

This work is why Hamilton is one of the recipients of the Joe and Clara Tsai Foundation’s Social Justice Fund and Brooklyn Org’s second annual Just Brooklyn Prize, which celebrates outstanding champions in the fight for social justice in Brooklyn. Hamilton—along with fellow winners Carolyn A. Butts, Chino Hardin, Christine Yvette Louis, and Ninaj Raoul—will receive an unrestricted $20,000 grant in recognition of his contributions to the pursuit of social justice in Brooklyn.

Hamilton came to his work from bitter experience. The Bed-Stuy native was locked up for 21 years for a murder he didn’t commit, and his efforts to unearth the truth about his case led to the discovery of severe issues with a series of cases all investigated by the same detective, Louis Scarcella. The whole story is laid out in Jennifer Gonnerman’s superb 2016 New Yorker profile of Hamilton.

During his time in prison, Hamilton became one of the preeminent “jailhouse lawyers” in the country, and he’s continued his legal work to this day. He never became an actual lawyer, though, despite having “no doubt in my mind” that he could pass the bar exam.

“When lawyers fall short, they call me, and my advocacy pushes things to the finish line,” he says.

Hamilton spoke to us about his work, and how he plans to use the grant.

To start out, how did you find out you’d gotten this Just Brooklyn Prize?

I got a call from one of the members from Brooklyn Org congratulating me. I was ecstatic to learn that Brooklyn was recognizing me, and that the Social Justice Fund was acknowledging the work that I’ve been doing for people in my community, people who are disenfranchised and wrongfully convicted or sentenced to unjust sentences.

I was happy to hear that they recognized it, and they were willing to honor the work by paying it forward so I can help so many other people. I thank them so much for this reward. I’m from Brooklyn, the home of Biggie Smalls and Jay-Z. It’s big for me, for my borough to acknowledge the work that I’ve done.

Why did you return to Brooklyn when you got released, and why base your organization there? 

For backstory, I spent 21 years in prison, wrongfully convicted. While I was there, I’ve grown friends with families and other incarcerated individuals who were wrongfully convicted.

When I got out, I promised them that I would do everything in my power to show that the detective who framed me had framed others. Thank God I was able to do that and assist in over 20 exonerations by blowing the whistle on this detective who framed people.

Your organization started specifically to deal with Louis Scarcella’s cases?

That is absolutely correct. It started to deal with Scarcella’s cases and a couple of other individuals who were also behind bars, including Danny Rincon.

But it started with individuals who didn’t have a voice. They would write letters and they would be ignored. That was the most important thing: to bridge the gap from the community to prosecutor, so that people don’t just look at prosecutors as somebody that is locking them up, but somebody that can help build a community and make the public safe, and have a greater dialog with them. We’ve accomplished that in Brooklyn, and we’re proud of it.

For the people you help, the story doesn’t end with getting out of prison. It doesn’t even end with exoneration. You are well aware of some of the issues that can happen once a person who’s been locked up for a significant amount of time is finally freed. Can you talk about some of those issues and what you and your organization do to try to help formerly incarcerated people with readjustment?

We are “Family and Friends,” right? So we are family and we are friends. We don’t just let them get out and abandon them.

We believe in monitoring, first of all, the behavior, because sometimes guys get out and they have mental health issues that you don’t know about. So we play very close with individuals. We make sure they have clothing and housing and food and everything that human beings need when they return.

But we also refer them to re-entry services like Fortune Society. We help them get jobs—maintenance jobs, mainly. And we slowly help them put the pieces of their life together. You come out to a society when everything is moving faster than the pace that they’re used to. And it’s good to have somebody with you that’s been through it—someone that can tell you, “Look, I’ve been there. I know the pace is too much. It’s all right, breathe.”

We try to make it peaceful and happy and comfortable for them, because a lot of times these guys are coming home with PTSD. These guys are coming home mentally damaged from what happened to them and don’t even know it. So we want them to know it’s OK. It’s cool to get diagnosed by a mental health professional.

We do all of those things, and we just try to make sure that humanity is what we’re giving them. Not one guy that we got out has went back.

When you were incarcerated, you were known as one of the best jailhouse lawyers in the country. Do you ever think about taking the bar? Do you think you could pass it?

I know I can pass it. No doubt in my mind. I just think that I can do so much more as an advocate than a lawyer. When lawyers fall short, they call me, and my advocacy pushes things to the finish line. I wouldn’t want to give that up, because people in the grassroots of my community need more advocates than they do lawyers, and I just want to advocate for them as much as I can.

Clara Wu Tsai said about the winners of the Just Brooklyn Prize:“I hope that they also use some of [the money] to treat themselves. They most certainly deserve it.” Any plans for using part of the prize for something nice for yourself or your family?

With any prize, I’m always going to give a majority of it to cases that we’re working on. The majority, at least $15,000, $16,000, is going to that.

I plan on taking my family on a vacation for Thanksgiving. I think we picked the Dominican Republic. We’re definitely going to use a portion of it for that. And when I get back, I’m right back to work.