Academics, community organizers, faith-based groups, nonprofits and local government employees gathered at Christopher Newport University to talk about social justice issues Tuesday. And they were all in the same room.
While that might seem like a mundane detail, it’s actually quite rare. Johnny Finn, a CNU geography professor and co-organizer of the event, said the reality is social justice work often happens in silos
“The academics talk to a lot of academics, faith-based groups talk to a lot of faith-based groups, organizers talk to organizers,” Finn said. “And we're all talking about a lot of the same issues, but we're not talking to each other about the different strengths that we bring to these issues from different perspectives in different positions.”
Thus, the Hampton Roads Social Justice Conference was born. The conference started in 2022 and takes place every April. The theme this year was “The Future Is Now. The Fight Is Here.”
Over the course of two days, sessions covered social justice topics including housing affordability and discrimination, immigration, gun safety, public health, environmental justice and community organizing. Finn said he expected around 450 people to show up.
The hope, he said, is the conference and its sessions will inspire ways these people from all different spheres can work together to put their values into action.
“It’s really geared towards motivating people to think about how we can be positive agents of change in society,” he said.
Immigration was one of the biggest topics on Tuesday’s agenda, as the federal government’s crackdown continues.
Scott Warren is a humanitarian aid worker from Arizona who volunteers with the group No More Deaths/No Mas Muertos. He opened the conference Tuesday with anecdotes from his experience advocating for migrants and navigating the criminal justice system as a result.
Warren was charged in 2017 with “abandonment of property” for leaving water jugs on known migrant trails in the desert near the US-Mexico border. He was also arrested for the “felony crime of harboring aliens” for giving food, clothing and shelter to two undocumented men, he told the crowd.
His trial hinged on the question of intent.
“Giving someone a set of clothes might be considered harboring, if prosecutors can show the intent behind this act is to help a person blend into the local community for the purposes of hiding from law enforcement,” Warren said. “It might not be considered harboring if the defense can show the intent is to give someone protection from the weather.”
A jury eventually found him not guilty.
Immigration issues may look different in Hampton Roads than in Arizona, Warren said.
Christina Kang, a family engagement specialist with Hampton City Schools who works with English language learner students, said at a different panel discussion that documented and undocumented families often don’t access community resources out of fear for their and their family’s safety.
“Many struggle with medical, dental needs, mental health needs, food scarcity,” she said during the panel. “The best thing that we can do is educate and advocate for them with the privilege of knowing the language.”
Housing affordability is a regular feature of the conference and an enduring challenge in Virginia – especially for those with criminal records.
At a session titled “Locked Out,” housing advocates talked about how Virginia’s Fair Housing Law doesn’t extend protections to people with criminal records.
“Who can have a fair chance at assimilating into society or reintegrating into society without knowing where they're going to lay their head at night?” said Kenneth Hunter, adding he served 22 years for a non-violent drug offense and now works with the Virginia Interfaith Center on Public Policy.
Though he hasn’t struggled finding stable housing since his release, Hunter said that’s not what most people experience.
People with criminal records are at a greater risk of becoming homeless than people without criminal records. They often end up spending more on application fees, only to get denied, and may end up paying more for rent, despite usually earning less than before their conviction, said Sheba Williams, executive director of Nolef Turns Inc, an advocacy group that aims to reduce recidivism.
Williams said she was wrongfully convicted for embezzlement more than 20 years ago and the conviction has followed her ever since.
“No matter how long it's been since that conviction, we always go back to the question, ‘Do you have a criminal record?’” she said. “If we say and believe that housing is a right, we have to get rid of that question.”
Conference attendees sat together at lunch to discuss specific topics. Between sessions, people gathered around the coffee table, introducing themselves to others working on the same issues but in a different capacity. They exchanged business cards, shared contact information and made plans to connect.
And Finn said that was the whole point.
“The overarching goal is really to take people who wouldn't otherwise be in the same room, talking to each other, planning, coordinating, organizing,” he said.
