I am admittedly an incredibly lazy human being. I don’t exercise, I don’t fold laundry and I often sleep on my futon so I don’t have to walk the extra four feet to an actual bed. Naturally then, there are very few social causes that I have the energy to waste effort and care on; the Genarlow Wilson story is one of those few causes.
Mr. Wilson was 17 years old when he was arrested and brought to court on rape and aggravated child molestation charges. He was accused — with corroborating video evidence — of receiving oral sex at a New Year’s party from a 15-year-old.
Was it a good idea? Probably not, but I’ve seen enough episodes of "Saved By The Bell" to know that high school students rarely make educated decisions. Wilson took his case to court, arguing the act was consensual — which it was — and that he was undeserving of the sex offender registration, which would be forced upon him had he pled guilty. Unfortunately for both Mr. Wilson and society at large, the court didn’t agree with him, and thanks to another genius Southern law, in which oral sex between minors was prosecuted more harshly than intercourse between minors, Wilson received a 10-year prison sentence. Lady Justice may be blind, but apparently, she didn’t do very well on her ACT, either.
Of course, a nightmare never ends that quickly, and upon learning of the outrageous punishment handed down by the courts to Mr. Wilson, the Georgia Legislature snapped into action, changing the archaic law on the severe prosecution of oral sex between minors. Yet the law change was not made retroactive, so instead of throwing open the bars of Mr. Wilson’s cell and apologizing, state officials left Mr. Wilson to wait out his 10-year sentence.
Genarlow Wilson was incarcerated on Feb. 25, 2005. The next two years of his life were filled with petitions, TV specials and the rolling sound of public outcry, but very little action on the part of the government. That all changed last week when the Georgia Supreme Court found, in a 5-4 ruling, that his punishment was "cruel and unusual." Finally, I could stop worrying about the injustice of the Georgia courts and resume doing whatever it is I do for the eight hours that I spend awake, right? Well, no, because even though Mr. Wilson is free, he will never be the same boy he was before the good people of the Peach State locked him up.
Once a promising young athlete with good grades and scholarship offers, Mr. Wilson watched a judge take his future and toss it away like a scrambling quarterback. He lost out on the most important aspect of life — living — for two years, and it is the one thing no one will ever be able to give back to him. There are no winners in the Genarlow Wilson story, only different degrees of losers.
Typically, I like to think that placing blame is an act of futility because no matter what the situation, we all seem to have a little blood on our hands. But someone should have to pay for the injustice heaved upon Mr. Wilson. Yes, it is his fault for engaging in an illegal act, but his actions did nothing to warrant a decade in prison. In this case, the blame falls squarely upon the shoulders of the National Sex Offender Registry.
If paranoia is one of your hobbies, you can go online to the National Sex Registration website and look up how many sex offenders live on your street or work in your neighborhood. Some of these offenders may very well be rapists or child molesters, but more often than not, there’s a good chance they are people like Genarlow Wilson. These are people who’ve made one bad decision in life and are forever paying for it as colored dots on an Internet map.
This issue hits home even harder on a college campus, where merely one night of drunken decision-making can keep you from getting a decent job or can ostracize you from your community. There can be no worse feeling than being dehumanized, and sex offender registration does just that. Prison is supposed to offer rehabilitation, yet the registry assumes that even though these people have served their time, they are not like the rest of us.
Ultimately, it was a great weekend for Mr. Wilson. For the first time in two years, he was able to go to sleep with not only a clean conscience, but also a clean criminal record. Yet not everybody can grab the national sympathy and media attention that Mr. Wilson managed, and until we can finally treat everyone like human beings, I am forever doomed to care. And nobody wants that.
Sean Kittridge([email protected]) is a sophomore majoring in journalism.
