CHICAGO—An Englewood town hall meeting exposed reasons for continued distrust between Chicago’s Black community, the Chicago Police Department and the Cook County State’s Attorney’s Office, as residents, organizers, and elected officials confronted the secretive rollout of a controversial Felony Review Bypass Pilot Program.
The program permits police to file felony gun possession charges without prior approval from prosecutors, raising red flags about due process and the erosion of community oversight.
“Let me start by stating a foundational principle: Due process is not optional. It is the bedrock of our justice system. Stripping away due process in the name of public safety is a dangerous path,” said Dion McGill of the 7th District Council Community Commission for Public Safety and Accountability (CCPSA).
“What we’re seeing with this felony bypass pilot program is deeply troubling. It seeks to fast-track justice by sidestepping it entirely, bypassing the fundamental rights of individuals.”
Created in July 2021 by the Chicago City Council, CCPSA was born out of long-standing demands for more police transparency and accountability.
Its mission is to bridge the gap between law enforcement and the community by enhancing public safety, building trust, and ensuring community input in the development and oversight of policing policies.
Through proactive, community-based, and evidence-driven strategies, the CCPSA empowers residents to shape the future of public safety in Chicago.
Mr. McGill pointed out the troubling optics of piloting such a program in Englewood—“one of the most historically over-policed, over-surveilled, and under-resourced communities in this city, if not the nation.”
He also raised alarm over the simultaneous removal of gun-related cases from the Englewood Restorative Justice Community Court. “Gun cases make up 82.8% of its caseload.
When you remove those cases, you’re not just undermining the court—you are functionally defunding and dismantling one of the few community-rooted systems we have to address harm without perpetuating cycles of incarceration.”
A significant consensus among community members who spoke at the event held at Ogden Park in Chicago on April 5, was the lack of transparency and collaboration with grassroots and justice-oriented organizations that have long been doing the work on the ground.
“This pilot program bypassed the very people elected to ensure police accountability,” said Gabriel Miller of the Chicago Alliance Against Racist and Political Repression. “When they go around the district councils—created by the people to hold police accountable—it’s clear this is about control, not safety.”
The meeting also revealed contradictions in how the Cook County State’s Attorney’s Office, represented by Yvette Loizon, explained the program’s design, purpose, and oversight.
Ms. Loizon repeatedly stated that felony review was not being eliminated, only postponed. “Felony review bypass does not mean a prosecutor doesn’t review the case—it happens later,” she explained.
However, this contradicts her earlier acknowledgment that body camera footage and reports are reviewed by a lieutenant, not a prosecutor, before charges are filed.
This crucial delay could mean that defendants spend up to 48 hours in custody before ever encountering a prosecutor, despite Ms. Loizon’s claims of continuous prosecutorial oversight.
“These decisions are misguided at best, and at worst, they feel like an intentional effort to erode Black-led, community-based responses to violence,” Mr. McGill continued. “When you roll out a program like this in a neighborhood like Englewood, it’s hard not to see the racial implications.”
Mr. McGill expressed frustration that the community’s district council, created to enhance oversight and accountability, was not informed about the pilot. “We heard about it in the news—not from CPD, not from our supposed partners in safety.
This is yet another example of CPD and the Cook County State’s Attorney’s Office’s unwillingness—or intentional malfeasance—to work with the systems the city created.”
Further contradictions arose when Ms. Loizon emphasized that the pilot program was meant to ease staffing issues within the State’s Attorney’s Office, citing long wait times for officers attempting to get approvals for minor possession charges.
But community member Jermaine Kelly pushed back: “This sounds like a staffing issue, not a community issue. So why are 40 families impacted because your department can’t handle the call volume?”
Community residents like Mark Wallace raised legal concerns about whether the State’s Attorney’s Office misrepresented the nature of prosecutorial authority. “Only a State’s Attorney can charge a felony in Illinois.
Period. So, how is a lieutenant approving charges?” he asked. Mr. Wallace also revealed that neither judges nor key Black legal organizations like the Cook County Bar Association were consulted—a glaring omission from a supposedly collaborative process.
Ms. Loizon’s assertion that the program was a response to community demand for more policing also rang hollow to many in attendance.
“If this was about community needs, why weren’t any of us invited to the table before it started?” asked Cecile De Mello, executive director of Teamwork Englewood. “Instead of building on successful community-led strategies like restorative justice courts, they’re taking resources away.”
Adding to the mistrust was Loizon’s explanation for removing gun possession cases from the Restorative Justice Community Court (RJCC)—a court co-created with community organizations and widely praised for reducing recidivism.
“Restorative justice courts are for victim-centric crimes,” she argued, implying that gun possession without a direct victim doesn’t align with RJCC principles. But this logic raised more questions.
As Dionne Victoria, an Englewood artist and educator, pointed out, “If no victim exists, isn’t that exactly the type of case that should be diverted from the carceral system? Not further criminalized?”
Loizon also stated that the RJCC program wasn’t being dismantled—only restructured. However, many at the meeting saw that as a deflection rather than a defense.
“Every time we get something that works, they find a way to take it from us,” said resident Lanita Coleman, whose sister remains in jail for defending herself under a valid concealed carry license. “What’s the point of rights if we can’t exercise them without punishment?”
The meeting concluded with closing comments from community members who shared personal stories, legal insight, and lived experience with police overreach.
Jasmine Smith, another member of the Chicago Alliance, called attention to the broader culture of misconduct and impunity within law enforcement, stating, “How can we trust a process led by the same system that’s still harboring officers involved in wrongful convictions?”
Community demands were clear: end the felony bypass pilot program, reinstate restorative justice pathways for gun possession cases, and reestablish trust through meaningful collaboration, not top-down policy experiments.
“We deserve transparency. We deserve a full accounting of how this program was designed, who it is supposed to benefit, and why this community is yet again being made the testing ground for questionable policing tactics.
If you want public safety,” Mr. McGill said directly to State’s Attorney Eileen O’Neill Burke’s representative, “you start with public trust. And right now, you are running on empty.”