On dignity

A touchstone of our shared humanity.

All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights.

So begins the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR).

The declaration goes on to enumerate the rights to which each of us is entitled. Those rights are deemed to be inalienable; that is, they are inherent in each human being and therefore cannot be taken away.

The UDHR was adopted by the United Nations in 1948. In 1991, the Second Optional Protocol to the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR), calling for the total abolition of capital punishment, was created. The Protocol opens with these words:

Believing that abolition of the death penalty contributes to enhancement of human dignity and progressive development of human rights…

Ninety-one countries are parties to the Second Optional Protocol; unsurprisingly, the US is not.

(What might come as a surprise to some of you is that the US is the only country in the world that has not ratified the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child*, the most widely ratified international treaty.)

A question and a speech

Two things spurred my thinking about dignity over the past couple of weeks. The first was a questionnaire from Random House that Catherine and I need to fill out to help the marketing team for Graphic Dead Man Walking. The second was the speech by Michelle Obama at the Democratic National Convention in Chicago, on August 20th.

While I’m sure the Random House questionnaire is standard fare it issues to all its authors, for me, its arrival signified the moment when I had to take off my writer’s hat and don a not-nearly-as-comfortable publicity cap. I’m quite happy writing about my writing, but pitching it? That part of my cortex doesn’t see much action.

The pitch

So, I felt decidedly ill at ease when answering the first part of one of the questions, which read, “How would you describe your book? Please include, if appropriate, newsworthy elements and strongest selling points.”

Hmm. Should I include adjectives and adverbs:

Sister Helen Prejean’s classic account of the death penalty is powerfully retold in this stunning graphic adaptation. This modern retelling combines haunting visuals with a gripping narrative.

Should I leave those color words to the marketing team to fill in? But the result is oh so blah:

Sister Helen Prejean’s account of the death penalty is retold in this adaptation, which combines visuals with the written narrative.

I decided to go with the color.

The relevance

The second half of that question, though, about the newsworthiness of the book, brought me back onto solid ground. That’s because there is so much about Sister Helen’s book that is as relevant now as it was 31 years ago when it was first published.

From the egregious decisions on capital punishment penned by the 21st Century Supreme Court, to the execution lust of Donald Trump and Louisiana Governor Landry, to the push and pull of issues of racial justice, to the threats posed to our justice system by the rise of authoritarian politics, all these things provide a resonating chamber for Sister Helen’s (gripping) narrative.

In addition to such newsworthy elements, concepts such as compassion, forgiveness and dignity, which are all central to Dead Man Walking, are timeless.

On dignity, Sister Helen writes:

I find myself now saying to Robert some of the same words I had said to Pat, words drawn from some force that taps deep and runs strong, and I tell him that despite his crime, despite the terrible pain he has caused, he is a human being and he has a dignity that no one can take from him, that he is a son of God.

Along comes Michelle

As I was formulating my response to the questionnaire, the Democratic National Convention was underway in Chicago. On the second night of the convention, Michelle Obama—an orator for the ages—took to the stage.

One of the things Ms. Obama said is this:

I don’t care how you identify politically, whether you’re a Democrat, Republican, independent, or none of the above, this is our time to stand up for what we know in our hearts is right. To stand up not just for our basic freedoms but for decency and humanity, for basic respect, dignity, and empathy.

Her words and Helen’s words melded in my head, and helped me to craft what I think is an essential “selling point” of this new version of Dead Man Walking:

A central message of Dead Man Walking is that every human being has an innate dignity which cannot be taken from them. In our current deeply divided nation, where people are often reduced to hurtful and inaccurate labels and where whole groups of people are defined as being “other”, this book opens the door to seeing the humanity in any person. In many ways, it is a salve for what ails us.

* The rights of children

Are you interested to know the rights enumerated in the Convention on the Rights of the Child? The graphic below is from a lovely child-friendly summary, or you can read the full (adult) text.

If you’re wondering why the United States has failed to ratify this convention, you might like to start with this story on juvenile life without parole from The Marshall Project (a publication I highly recommend). Juvenile LWOP is banned by the Convention on the Rights of the Child, but it is among the things the US seems unable to do without.

Convention on the Rights of the Child poster for children.