On August 21, Wisconsin’s Commutation Advisory Board will sit down with 12 people seeking a second look at their prison sentences. Five of them were convicted in Milwaukee County. Two were 16 and 17 years old when a judge sentenced them to life in prison. They are now 46 and 50.
I want to sit with that for a second before we get into the policy details, because it is easy to let numbers and case files flatten out what this actually is. A commutation does not erase a conviction or pretend a crime did not happen. It shortens or changes a sentence, while the conviction stays on the record. Wisconsin has not granted one since Governor Tommy Thompson left office in 2001. Governor Tony Evers reestablished the process by executive order in April, and these August hearings are among the first real tests of what that reestablishment means in practice.
The Five Milwaukee Cases
According to Milwaukee Neighborhood News Service, the five applicants with Milwaukee County ties span a wide range of circumstances. Sharif Green, 52, was convicted of drug charges in 2015 and sentenced to 20 years of confinement plus 10 years of extended supervision. Mighty Howell, now 50, was convicted of intentional homicide and attempted armed robbery in 1993, at age 17, and sentenced to life. Christopher Sutton, 51, was convicted of three counts of armed robbery in 2002 and sentenced to 45 years. Demian McDermott, 53, was convicted of first-degree intentional homicide in 1991, at age 19, and sentenced to life. Sabir Wilcher, 46, was sentenced to life in 1995 for first-degree intentional homicide, committed when he had just turned 16.
After the
interviews on Aug. 21, the board will meet in closed session and send recommendations to Evers, who has the final say. Whether Wisconsin keeps granting commutations after Evers leaves office will depend entirely on who wins this fall’s governor’s race, which makes this month’s hearings about more than five individual cases. They are a live test of whether redemption has a real, functioning pathway in this state, or whether it depends on the political mood of whoever happens to hold the governor’s office.
Faith, Not as a Wall, But as a Lens
Shannon Ross, founder and CEO of the Milwaukee-based nonprofit The Community, put it simply when he saw the list of applicants: it’s exciting to see names I know on there. Ross’s organization is part of Justice Forward Wisconsin, which helps people navigate the commutation application process. Mark Rice, transformational justice campaign coordinator for the statewide faith-based group WISDOM, told Milwaukee NNS that Wisconsin’s harsh sentencing policies have blocked opportunities for redemption and created a severe overcrowding crisis in the state’s prisons.
I do not need to be an ordained anything to say that redemption is a concept most faith traditions in this country claim to believe in, at least on Sunday morning. The test is whether we believe it applies to a 16-year-old who did something unforgivable, and still grew into a 46-year-old man who has spent three decades trying to become someone different. Some politicians have pushed back hard on exactly that idea, arguing that rehabilitation cannot outweigh the harm caused, particularly for violent convictions. That is a legitimate position, and crime victims and their families deserve to have their voices centered in this conversation, not erased by it. But a functioning commutation process is not amnesty. It is a case-by-case review, conducted by a board, with the governor making the final call. That is due process, not a giveaway.
What Happens After a Commutation: The Housing Gap
Here is the part of this story that does not get enough attention: a commutation only matters if the person walking out the door has somewhere stable to land. Milwaukee County and the nonprofit The Community have started co-hosting landlord engagement events aimed at expanding housing options for people returning from incarceration, the first held earlier this month at ThriveOn King, with a second scheduled for Aug. 26 at Sherman Phoenix. Ross said the goal is straightforward: get more landlords willing to rent to people with a record, and get honest answers about why so many will not.Kenya Pratt, who rents six properties in Milwaukee to people involved with the justice system, put it bluntly: some of their criminal background is not a real background, it could just be a situation. Landlords sit up here and judge a person instead of wanting to help a person. LaTonya Baker, founder of the Milwaukee Reentry Housing Hub, added that housing alone is not enough. People coming home need life-skills training, healthcare connections, mentorship, and a support system, not just a lease.
The Bottom Line for Milwaukee
This is not a story about whether Wisconsin should be soft on crime or tough on crime, framing that has never actually helped anyone make a hard decision well. It is a story about whether the state can build a functioning system that reviews individual cases honestly, weighs public safety and rehabilitation seriously, and then backs up its own decisions with the housing, employment, and mental health infrastructure that makes reentry actually work. Right now, Milwaukee has the beginning of that infrastructure: a reestablished commutation process, a growing reentry housing network, and community organizations doing the unglamorous work of connecting the two. What it does not have yet is certainty that any of it survives past this governor’s term.