The difficulties of this life stem from the choices and decisions I made. Nothing to be compared to the pains I have inflicted on generations not yet born.
I was transferred to a new facility after 19 years. Change is inevitable and can be challenging at times. After all, I must remember the change my actions in the past caused others. However, these 15 months have been hard to adjust to and accept.
How so? Well, coming from a place where everyone is doing decades of time or life sentences, there is a certain stability, an assurance that these people around you will be here unless death or transfer occurs. People adhere to a particular mindset, like respecting others’ space, a common courtesy that today’s generation has gotten lost in the translation of doing time.
The move, which was portrayed as a promotional transfer, turned out to be like making reservations for the Marriott Hotel and ending up in Motel 6. The hype of the place, “It’s an open jail,” did not turn out to be true. Despite the differences, there have been many positives. I became a dog handler, retained my Certified Peer Support Specialist duties, and was on the first institutional American Legion Post.
Understanding things happen for a reason, I have utilized the difficulties as a longer experience for when the good Lord opens the prison doors, and I get that second chance at reentry by way of commutation. Here I am, a humbled entity inside much chaos and pain from the same people who claim to rehabilitate and correct those who are younger than my oldest grandchild I have not seen in a while.
I made choices I can never take back, so I strive to live as they would want to if there was a chance to do so. The good is looked at suspiciously because “these people will never change.” I work to prove wrong with strong morals and values repressed from a childhood that was not fully appreciated. My grandmother raised me to be better than the ending I have created in the heat of the moment, which is colder than any wintry day.
After five years of waiting, I have been denied commutation at the merit review stage. While it hurt, it was expected because 25 years is not enough time to prove rehabilitation. One misconduct in that time and model inmate according to institutional records. This is where I must look at the violence of the crime in which I participated. A life lost can never be valued in terms of that. I know for the rest of my life, I will live to bring honor to a life lost long before their time. The difficulties of this life stem from the choices and decisions I made. Nothing to be compared to the pains I have inflicted on generations not yet born.
