Model Wali Deutsch on decarceration and advocacy for people in prison
Get to know i-D's latest cover star, and how the 25-year-old model on the rise is using their platform to support prison reform in Illinois.
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Before recently, I wasn’t sure there was anything at the center of the Venn Diagram that is modeling and mass incarceration. It turns out there is, and their name is Wali Deutsch.
I met the model-meets-abolitionist via Zoom to discuss their notable ascension in a relatively short year-and-a-half modeling career, where they’ve worked with photographers like Steven Meisel, Mario Sorrenti and have even covered the latest issue of i-D. But, in our 45-minute interview, we mostly discussed their commitment to dismantling the United States’ criminal legal system.
Wali and their brother Atticus grew up in Chicago with attorneys as parents — their father a representative of the Black Panthers and the Attica Prison Brothers (those who survived the Attica Prison Rebellion of 1971); their mother an attorney for those who had been targeted, shot, beaten or framed by the police. In some cases, their parents even tried cases together. “Growing up, our house was loud,” Wali said. “My parents argued about cases, former clients and co-counsel stayed in our home, my brother and I were brought to protests where my parents were volunteering or acting as legal observers — leftist ideology was just something that I was raised with.”
Naturally, when Wali graduated Pitzer College in 2019, they went on to pursue a career in advocacy as the third hire for the Illinois Prison Project (IPP). The nonprofit focuses on “using creative legal mechanisms for early release,” something even more urgent in a state that does not have parole. Without it, the state essentially has eliminated the option for early release for those with decade-long sentences and completely omitted the possibility for those with life sentences. IPP applies what Wali refers to as a “mass commutation model” which normalizes clemency — the act of reducing someone’s sentence by the governor — for cohorts of incarcerated people, rather than it being seen as a one-off approach to release. By identifying systemic problems in sentencing and “other unjust patterns,” the nonprofit's campaigns and legal representation support tackle a range of carceral issues, from a lack of medical release for terminally ill individuals to the criminalization of those who have survived gender-based violence. To date, IPP has freed 92 people, which translates to roughly 940 years spared and $82 million saved.
Wali started out as a campaign manager, which they describe as a combination of a paralegal and case worker, with a day-to-day ranging from visits to clients inside carceral facilities, communicating with clients’ family members, providing attorneys support for upwards of 150 people (IPP as a whole manages over 400 clients). When Covid hit, Wali hit a bucket list item and moved to New York while maintaining their caseload from back home. With an Illinois salary in the city, they decided that having a try at modeling — something they had been approached and encouraged to do in high school — could help supplement rent. “I went in kind of naive,” they share. “I had no idea you could just get picked up and get on a plane with less than 24 hours notice.” After nine or so months of juggling varying shoot time zones with client communication, Wali decided to go part time and now currently fills a communications role with IPP. In addition to modeling, of course.
When asked about straddling such distinct worlds, Wali is candid. They admit there’s an “inner conflict” in propping up the fashion industry, one “fueled by capitalism” and consumerism, while fighting against a carceral system that profits off of majority Black and brown individuals whose labor in most states does not surpass a dollar an hour. “It's a very strange thing to be exposed to — this world of wealth and glamor, this elite class of people, and then also have a deep understanding of these societal ills [like] mass incarceration, systemic racism and state violence and oppression,” they add. Wali emphasizes the need for more folks who are directly impacted by the system — something they are not — to be handed the proverbial mic (or, say, the interview). That while their existence in these two worlds is a “narrative that, in many ways, is ‘sexy’ and that people latch onto,” they are not and should not be the go-to authority when it comes to dismantling the carceral system.
Throughout our conversation, Wali’s honesty was refreshing. For someone who performs for (part of) their living, there was no posturing in discussing their advocacy. On the rare occasion they get to combine their worlds, they welcome it, sharing that “models are now less of a hanger for clothing and have more of a voice.” And yet, their self-awareness around their privilege and the need for others' voices remains steadfast. “I am not the face of this,” they say. “This work has always been happening, and will continue to happen, because of leadership by directly impacted people.”