Sixteen years ago, Jennifer Thompson’s world was shattered when she learned that the man she had identified as her rapist—leading to his wrongful conviction—was innocent. The real perpetrator, a man who had gone on to assault other women, remained free. It was a crushing revelation, one that mirrored the growing trend of DNA exonerations across the United States.
Thompson, however, turned her guilt into action, creating an initiative that seeks to bridge the gap between crime victims and the innocent men who have been wrongfully imprisoned. Her project, called Healing Justice, is a groundbreaking effort to bring these two often forgotten groups together in a shared space of healing and understanding.
At a recent retreat, Thompson gathered exonerees—men who had been wrongfully convicted and spent years in prison—for various crimes, including sexual assault and murder, alongside crime victims like herself. The setting was a secluded retreat in Virginia, where they engaged in activities meant to foster empathy, understanding, and emotional release.
The retreat kicked off with a striking activity: smashing bowls with a hammer, symbolizing the violence that had fractured the lives of both the exonerees and the victims. Afterward, the participants were tasked with gluing the broken pieces back together, a metaphor for the long and painful process of rebuilding their lives after such traumatic events. In this room sat two women who had been raped as children, facing two men who had been wrongfully convicted of similar crimes and imprisoned for over two decades. At another table sat a woman who had survived sexual assault, sitting across from an exoneree who had been cleared of rape and murder charges.
Jennifer Thompson, who led the retreat, framed the experience as a way to heal not only the wounds caused by wrongful convictions but also the deep psychological scars left on the victims. “It’s not just the exonerees who suffer,” Thompson explained. “A wrongful conviction is like a bomb. It doesn’t just affect the person convicted—it harms families, communities, and the victims themselves.”
For Jennifer Thompson, the moment she realized her role in convicting the wrong man was a painful turning point. In 1984, Thompson was a college student when she was raped at knifepoint. She worked with police to identify a suspect, and Ronald Cotton was convicted and sentenced to life in prison based largely on her testimony. Eleven years later, DNA testing proved Cotton’s innocence, and another man was identified as the real perpetrator. The revelation left Thompson in emotional turmoil, grappling with guilt, shame, and a sense of personal failure.
Thompson’s guilt was compounded by the realization that the true rapist had gone on to commit more crimes while Cotton languished in prison. “There are so many people hurt by a wrongful conviction,” she said. “Hundreds of people are impacted, not just the person in prison.”
Many of the crime victims at the retreat shared similar feelings of guilt and shame. Tomeshia Carrington Artis, who was 12 when she was sexually assaulted, recalled how she was haunted by the fact that she had identified the wrong man in a police lineup. After DNA exonerated him, Artis was wracked with fear that the man would seek revenge. “I felt so bad for him,” she said. “I felt like I sent this man to prison.”
While exonerees like Raymond Towler, who spent 29 years in prison for a crime he did not commit, shared their struggles with reintegrating into society, the victims confronted their psychological wounds. Towler, who was wrongfully convicted of the rape of two young girls, discussed the immense difficulty of rebuilding his life after years behind bars. “I couldn’t even go out the door by myself,” he confessed.
For victims like Penny Beerntsen, who was sexually assaulted at 36, the retreat provided an opportunity to process not only the trauma of the original crime but also the emotional fallout from the wrongful conviction of an innocent man. “The hardest part for me is hearing what the exonerees went through in prison,” Beerntsen said. “It’s so hard to hear, but it’s so necessary.”
The retreat featured deep personal reflection, with each participant writing letters to themselves, confronting the negative voices they had internalized over the years. They were asked to write a letter from the perspective of their harshest critic, and then to rewrite it from a place of self-compassion. This exercise allowed participants to confront their self-blame and reframe their narratives in a more healing light.
Despite the initial emotional discomfort, the retreat fostered moments of connection and understanding. On the final day, participants reflected on their personal growth and newfound empathy. For many, this was the first time they had engaged with someone who had been affected by the same broken system in such a direct way.
Raymond Towler, after years of facing the stigma of being a wrongfully convicted man, expressed gratitude for the opportunity to engage with the victims of similar injustices. “It’s painful,” he admitted, “but it’s also healing.” For Loretta Zilinger-White, a rape survivor, hearing from the exonerees was a cathartic experience. She said, “I finally let go of the guilt. I knew he was speaking from his heart, and that helped me.”
In the end, the retreat became a space not just for exonerees and victims to share their pain, but for all of them to heal together. Through games, art, and honest conversations, they began to rebuild trust, not only in each other but in the justice system that had failed them.
Jennifer Thompson’s Healing Justice initiative is an ongoing effort to address the deep emotional and psychological impact of wrongful convictions. By bringing together those who have been wronged by the justice system—both the innocent men who have been exonerated and the crime victims who have been overlooked—Thompson aims to create a space for mutual healing.
As the group came together for their final circle, sharing hopes and wishes for one another, it was clear that while the scars of wrongful convictions may never fully heal, the bonds forged through shared vulnerability and understanding can provide a new sense of hope. Thompson concluded, “We are all healing, together.”
In the end, the retreat was more than just a chance for victims and exonerees to confront the pain of the past. It was an opportunity to rebuild, reframe, and move forward—together.
