Sherrill Roland was watching a movie at home with his mother when his phone rang. While not typically answering calls from unknown numbers, Roland answered the phone because it had a Washington, D.C., area code. He had a few friends there. Unbeknownst to Roland at the time, it was a phone call that lit the fire of a two-and-a-half year fight for justice, the truth and, ultimately, freedom.

Roland, who recently graduated from UNC-Greensboro’s School of Art with a master’s degree, granted students the opportunity to hear how he turned a wrongful conviction into a powerful art and social justice project on Thursday evening in Talley Student Union.

“Firsthand, I would like to say that my story isn’t rare, but sharing it is,” Roland said. “And I don’t think anybody who’s been through this has seeked a way of dealing with it like I did as therapy as well. Just know that I am representative of many more who are right now incarcerated for something they didn’t do.”

Roland was originally convicted of four felonies – which was later lessened to four misdemeanors – that he didn’t commit. He noted that he does not disclose what the convictions were for, as he didn’t commit them and disclosing that information feels like another loss of control, which is something he has only recently started to get back.

As an artist, Roland found much healing in conducting The Jumpsuit Project, a social experiment of sorts in which he wears an orange jumpsuit around campus at UNC-G in order to break stigma, and get people talking about the wrongful incarceration and oppression within the criminal justice system. Sarah Hupp Williamson, the president of the Sociology Graduate Student Association, talked on why it is important to talk about injustice.

“Being aware of injustices, whether that’s in the criminal justice system or inequality in pay, is something we want to think about and be aware of,” Hupp Williamson said.

The Jumpsuit Project was born from a long journey toward acceptance, which Roland laid out on Thursday evening.

After receiving an initial call from law enforcement informing him that there was a warrant out for his arrest, Roland was shocked. He thought, “this can’t be right.”

The officer told him he had to come to Washington as soon as possible to turn himself in. If he didn’t, he would live day-to-day worrying about whether or not he would be taken into custody anytime his I.D. or driver’s license was scanned.

Roland was just about to attend his first day of graduate school at UNC-G.

He arrived in Washington in the middle of the night to turn himself in for a crime he knew he didn’t commit. After arriving, the process was not what he expected in the slightest.

“I thought I was able to keep most of my clothes on, but they stripped everything,” Roland said.  “I got fingerprinted, [and] I got handcuffed and was put in the interrogation room – this was all at 4 o’clock in the morning. I just got off a flight – this was confusing to me. Everything happened [so fast], and I got put in a cell with no mats or cushions and waited until they collected everybody in that precinct.”        

The day after appearing before the judge, Roland had to catch a flight back to North Carolina. He had to make it to classes the next day. Left without his belt, shoestrings, wallet or cellphone, all Roland had in his possession was a $20 bill his public defender to return to the precinct he turned himself into and retrieve his belongings. 

After the first hearing, the court had nine months to reach an indictment in which, he explained, “a jury could decide my fate.”         

After those nine months, Roland’s felony charges were lowered to four misdemeanors – and his fight for justice was just beginning. It was the fall semester of his second year of grad school, and at the time Roland had a class of students to teach. So, when he found out he had to go back to court mid-semester, he had to get creative – he told his class he was taking a vacation for his 28th birthday.

“Nobody asked questions, nobody knew this entire time […] not even close members of my family knew that I was dealing with this,” Roland said.  

He lost in court. Looking back, Roland said he realizes he never had a fair shot – as an African-American man appearing before a judge, who had already seen multiple cases that day, the cards were stacked against him from the start.

“Human error is real,” Roland said. “Just because you’re on the judge stand doesn’t mean you’re perfect. You are also capable of making a mistake, reading it wrong. And at the rate they read African-Americans wrong in Washington, D.C., I had no idea that I was facing more than my opponent.”

Originally sentenced to jail for a year and 30 days, Roland was released from Central Detention Facility after 10 months two weeks for exceptional behavior. Roland said that in jail he wasn’t looked at as a person. He, like the other inmates, was viewed as “just a number.”

In order to get through the long hours of the day while in jail, Roland took to reading Andrea Davis’ “Policing the Black Man: Arrest, Prosecution and Imprisonment,” a book he had to read in secret, in addition to the Bible. He was searching for answers and, at the time, was losing hope.

After Roland’s name was cleared and all charges were dropped, Roland was searching for a way to heal, trust and move forward in his life. For Roland, who went back to UNC-G to finish his master’s in art, this meant walking around campus in an orange jumpsuit – a project meant to get people talking about the criminal justice system and wrongful incarceration.

The Jumpsuit Project had self-imposed restrictions Roland followed when wearing the jumpsuit – one of which said he was only allowed to walk straight to his destination when wearing the jumpsuit on campus.

“Whenever I was in that jumpsuit on campus I had restrictions as if I was locked up in Washington, D.C.,” Roland said. “So, my studio space on the top floor of the art building was my cell. The art building was my block. Anytime I was in my cell or my block I was allowed to wear orange shorts or my jumpsuit. Anytime I left my block I had to go straight to my destination.”      

Hupp Williamson noted why students should take social justice issues of all kinds seriously.

“It’s something a lot of us don’t think about on a day to day basis, because it doesn’t directly affect us – but it’s something intricately woven into our lives,” Hupp Williamson said.

Editor’s Note: The article was edited to accurately reflect the length of Roland’s sentence. 

Editor’s Note: This article has been edited to reflect Sarah Hupp Williamson’s name.