"He was stripped down to his skin
Given clothes that weren’t his
Stamped with a number in the place of his name
But it didn’t break him

With the slamming sound of metal hitting metal
Came the silence, so loud that it could drown out the sound of your own thoughts
But still ... it didn’t break him

Though his movements are slower
his smile is still quick to come and his laugh fills the empty spaces left by pain
And yet still, broken he is not."

A few weeks ago, I found myself sitting across the table from Albert Woodfox -- I never in my life thought I would meet him,  let alone he would be free of the man-made restrictions imposed on him for the last 40 years. Yet still,  I found myself throwing loving insults to try and distract him from crushing me in a game of dominoes. I'm pretty sure it was the over achiever in me, that thought it was a good idea to challenge him in the first place -- considering I had  only just learned how to play a few months prior and the person who taught me, neglected to mention, that there were many versions of the game and many ways to get my ass handed to me.

But the winner in me wouldn't allow me to back out, so over multiple games of dominos (most of which I lost) we talked. At a table, over soup and fuit, at one end sat my friend/coworker Jasmine, me at another and Albert sitting in between us. We found ourselves debating the meaning of love, the passing of time and self-care. I remember leaving that interaction humbled and so full of hope, not only for Albert but for other people who had their lives taken under the false pretense of rehabilitation.

Albert Woodfox, Robert King and Herman Wallace are known as the Angola Three. I first learn of them after receiving a copy of "Sieze The Time" by Bobby Seale in my senior year of high school. After reading about the Black Pantners for the first time, I started doing my own research. Who were they, what did they want and the means in which they went about accomplishing their goals?

After hours reading about them in my local library, you know back when libraries used to be pretty cool, I came across the story of the Angola Three. Fast forward more than 10 years later, I was able to join a community of people at Amnesty International, mostly led by my friend Jasmine, who was fighting to free the last of the Angola Three still behind bars. By this time, Albert (68 years old) had spent 40 years in solitary confinement, in six-by-nine foot cell with little to no human interactions. Albert is thought to hold the record for the longest serving time in solitary confinement, a title, I'm sure he doesn't want.

The United States of America far short when upholding human rights, especially in cases of solitary confinement. Across the USA, more than 80,000 people are being held in solitary confinement. Juan Méndez, the UN Special Rapporteur on Torture, has said that holding anyone in solitary confinement in excess of 15 days amounts to cruel, inhuman, or degrading treatment, and can rise to the level of torture. Under the International Covenant for Civil and Political Rights, for which the USA is a party to, broadly bans cruel treatment for anyone -- regardless of the circumstances. Which raise the question, is the United States in violation of international law?

I come from communities where men, women and children return... not from war but just as devastating. Some return, with vacant eyes and broken spirits. Other return hopeful, most inmates will never be "lucky" as Albert to finally regain control over their own mobility but after meeting him, Robert and Herman, I'm confident they will continue to fight for improving prison conditions and ending solitary confinement everywhere.

So while prison may have taken his freedom for 40 years, it didn't diminish his quest for justice-- it only removed the chains placed on a sleeping lion.

The images are at once heartbreaking and enraging. A 15-year-old boy breaks down into sobs as his mother praise the virtues of his dead father. A woman bearing witness to the murder of her partner being forced to maintain a calm demeanor in the face of unspeakable horror for the sake of her safety and that of her young daughter.

These images make us both witnesses and voyeurs to a particular kind of pain being experienced all too frequently by black families across the country. The families of known and the unknown victims are not only mourning the devastating loss of a loved one, but dreading the idea that no one will be held accountable for their deaths.

Given the lack of convictions in cases involving killings by police, their fears may be well founded. Laws governing when police can use lethal force are inconsistent from state to state, and are often so broad and permissive that law enforcement officers can find justification for using lethal force, regardless of the actual danger posed.

Police have a right to protect themselves and a duty to protect the public. But they must carry out their duties in a way that respects the rights of everyone regardless of their race, gender, or past criminal history. No one should fear that any interaction with the officers sworn to protect him or her could result in their name becoming a hashtag. And officers deserve clear training on how to deescalate confrontations and prevent unnecessary use of force.

With the laws the way they are, no state or federal investigations nor any kind of indictment will stop police killings from occurring. Which is why we need reforms at the city, state and federal levels, and we need them now.

In a survey of state laws that Amnesty International conducted in 2015, they found that not one state has laws that meet international standards on the use of lethal force. And those standards are more than reasonable: Police can only use lethal force as a last resort when faced with the imminent threat of death or serious injury.

The report found that not only do U.S. laws fall short of international standards; they also fail to comply with the U.S. Constitution. Nine states and the District of Columbia have no lethal force laws whatsoever. The patchwork of laws results in a lack of clarity as to what circumstances warrant lethal force.

Is it the presence of a firearm? In the majority of states, it’s perfectly legal to carry a gun, with or without a license, so that alone can’t justify using lethal force.

Is it the fact that a suspect is fleeing? Supreme Court precedent states that police cannot use lethal force to stop a suspect from escaping if they are not dangerous, so again, that alone shouldn’t be a justification, although 13 states have laws that do not even meet this standard.

Other laws allow for deadly force to be used to “suppress opposition to an arrest;” to arrest someone for a “suspected felony;” to “suppress a riot or mutiny;” or for certain crimes such as burglary. In some jurisdictions, private citizens may be allowed to use lethal force if they are carrying out law enforcement activities.

The lack of any clear standard leaves most of these life-or-death decisions to the interpretation of officers. And this means that prejudice and stereotypes can lead to racial bias when it comes to determining who is – and who is not – a threat. While no official data on police killings exist – which in itself is troubling and must be addressed – what little data exists suggests that black men pay a disproportionate price as long as the guidelines for lethal force are so permissive. The black population of the U.S. is 13 percent, but makes up 25.5 percent of those killed by law enforcement using firearms.

Reform is needed immediately. It is imperative that a national task force be assembled to review existing laws regarding lethal force to ensure that it is only used as a last resort in the face of grave danger. Inadequate state laws must be brought in line with international standards, and all states must require training in the use of lethal force. Shockingly, only two states – Georgia and Tennessee – currently have laws on the books requiring training.

That is unacceptable — both for the communities and the officers entrusted to protect them. Consider our currently political environment, I doubt Congress will make any substantial reform. That’s why it’s even more important for states and cities to do what they can, to ensure everyone is safe and not just the selected few.