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Ken, 52

Stories

Meet Ken…

At the time those pictures traveled all over the world and that night was the first time they would be shown in the US. It blew me away, to say the least. My picture was the most viewed and the most liked.

Incarcerated: 1 year

I had been homeless for six years and felt useless to everyone in my life. I was approached by a man who introduced himself as Aaron Draper, a professor at Chico State University. He had a photography business in San Francisco and was working on a project called “Underexposed.” It featured pictures and interviews of homeless people. He  asked me if I would be interested in taking part in it. At first I was skeptical. After he explained it, I told him I’d take part and allowed him to take photos and interview me. We parted ways and I didn’t think much more about it. Several years later,  I saw my picture on the front page of the Chico News and Review Newspaper, stating that the Jesus Center in Chico California was conducting a fundraiser. I contacted the paper, who in turn, contacted Aaron Draper. He then came to pick me up for the fundraiser. I, of course, was very honored to say the least. At the time those pictures traveled all over the world and that night was the first time they would be shown in the US. It blew me away, to say the least. My picture was the most viewed and the most liked. They went viral almost instantly along with the videos on YouTube called Underexposed, and The Faces of The Homeless. When the dinner took place I was extremely honored and very emotional. With Aaron’s help, compassion and love for the project, people who view the website and watch the video look at homeless people in a different frame of mind, with understanding and more compassion in their eyes and hearts.

Charles, 52

Charles, 52

Stories

Meet Charles…

I’ve decided one way for me to give back is to tell my story through my writing. Today I’m truly successful because I believe in my abilities to achieve.

Incarcerated: 20 years
Housed: Corcoran State Prison, California

I was raised in poverty. I didn’t know we were poor until much later in life, my mom did her best to make sure we had food, clothing and shelter. My father was an alcoholic who loved chasing women, drinking, and smoking Pall Mall cigarettes. My father was a womanizer, some even say he was a pimp and he loved to bet on horses. I hated when my father drank, he would drink Crown Royal whiskey. Then, he became abusive both verbally and physically toward my mom. I would be scared. The first time my younger brother and I witnessed domestic violence I was five and he was three. As a result of witnessing such traumatic events, I developed anger issues, low-self-esteem and an intense hatred for authority figures. My mom finally divorced my abusive father. Being raised by a single parent, I gravitated toward the gang members in my neighborhood. I viewed them as older brothers and subconscious father figures. Career criminals, high school dropouts, and drug dealers became my role models, and I wanted to be just like them. In essence, I was aspiring to be a loser. I achieved my goal of being a success at failing by making the choice to disobey my mother and became a juvenile delinquent at 12. I’ve been to prison on multiple occasions. I finally came to my senses after years of neglecting the ones that truly loved me, my family. After years of wasting my precious life, in and out of incarceration, I decided that I had to change. I vowed I would change my life for the better. I denounced my association with my former gang. I started to engage in positive activities like self help, going to college, and vocational training. I’ve decided one way for me to give back is to tell my story through my writing. To date I have written and self-published five books, which is my way of sharing insight in hopes people will learn from my long standing history of failing. Today I’m truly successful because I believe in my abilities to achieve.

Henok, 44

Henok, 44

Stories

Meet Henok…

Playing the violin taught me perseverance and the art of playing different varieties of music.

Incarcerated: 16 years

Inside SQ live interview between RayRay and Henok

Ray Ray: How long have you been in prison?
Henok: I’ve been in prison for 16 years. I committed my crime when I was 24, but I wasn’t arrested until I was 28.
Ray Ray: What can you tell me about this picture?
Henok: I have waited a long time for the opportunity to take a picture with my violin. Playing the violin taught me perseverance and the art of playing different varieties of music. I had to put in three hours a day of hard work for two years.
Ray Ray: Does your violin have a name?
Henok: I’ve been going back and forth for years trying to figure out a name. I wanted to name her after my first love, but I didn’t want to hold on to that. So, I named my violin Nebsay, which means ‘my heart’ in African.
Ray Ray: Does playing your violin take you to another place?
Henok: Yes, it’s a place to tell other people stories in hopes that we don’t feel alone.
Ray Ray: I want to thank you for taking my position at Humans of San Quentin as an admin assistant. What can you bring to the Humans of San Quentin?
Henok: I can bring perspective to the ways the incarcerated are dehumanized in the workplace. Also, I am good at conflict resolution. Here’s a quote by a philosopher, “Conflict is the spirit of a relationship seeking to deepen.”

Delvon, 32

Delvon, 32

Stories

Delvon, 32

Meet Delvon…

I watched her grow up in pictures and now she’s raising me. A daughter raising a dad in prison.

Incarcerated: 9 years

I play for the San Quentin Warriors basketball team. We were in our Saturday morning basketball circle and I shared about my one year old cousin, Devyn. He was in the hospital, he had three seizures and three strokes. I was crying uncontrollably in front of my friends. I asked for a prayer, I thought he might die. His grandfather died from a seizure. I don’t know if it runs in the family, but it worries me. Don, from the Prison Sports Ministry, prayed right there on the spot. He’s the last boy that’s been born into our family. I felt it so deeply because of my uncle. My cousin, Devyn’s mother was actually watching him and when she went to the restroom, he had a seizure and died. She felt that she was the cause of his death. She feels guilty and now her son has seizures too. She worries.

I also think about how I haven’t seen my daughter since 2019. Raising a high school daughter from prison, who lives in Las Vegas, is something I have no idea how to do. She’s trying to find herself. The whole stereotype that is out there about Vegas, that is the scary thing. They say, “Try to think positive,” but the thought of a young woman in Vegas. I have no words for it. My daughter has a blank when she talks about her feelings about growing up without a father. We have a strong bond, but it’s a mystery bond, there is a blank space between us. I don’t know what she doesn’t like. I know she is the one that nips stuff in the bud. She says, “Why are you saying that?” It’s like she’s checking me and raising me. She asks me to come home and says, “Don’t get into trouble.” I watched her grow up in pictures and now she’s raising me. A daughter raising a dad in prison. It’s starting to become normal for me to share my feelings. I think it’s being around the caliber of people in San Quentin. Being in the middle of the court, which is my comfort zone. I feel safe and comfortable regardless of who’s on the court. When we say, “Bring it in the middle” it feels like home.

Jennifer, 52

Jennifer, 52

Stories

Meet Jennifer…

I’m not defined by the crimes I committed or worse things I’ve done. Rather, I’ve actually defied them by learning to accept responsibility, to have empathy for others, and remorse for my past harmful behavior.

 

Incarcerated: 32 years
Housed: Salinas Valley State Prison, Soledad, California
I’m an incarcerated activist, student, writer and worker. I’m also an anarchist-feminist queer and transwoman. Addiction, abuse, and criminal thinking led me to prison. I’ve survived abuse, brutality, Covid-19 outbreaks and witnessed prison deaths! I’ve survived the most adverse circumstances imaginable, including over a decade in control units and solitary confinement at Pelican Bay and Folsom. I’ve experienced a lot of harm, addiction and trauma, but I’ve also found the path of recovery. I’ve learned coping skills, built genuine friendships. I’m grateful for my lived experiences as a transwoman in California men’s prisons, which has not killed me but made me stronger! I’ve found out a lot about myself. I can be quite resilient and I have many opportunities to advocate for human rights and social justice. I communicate with my family and friends regularly. They would be surprised to know that I’m not defined by the crimes I committed or worse things I’ve done. Rather, I’ve actually defied them by learning to accept responsibility, to have empathy for others, and remorse for my past harmful behavior.

My cellmate, Peter, has a positive impact on me. He and I have been together for over three years. We have shared friendship, intimacy, love, and solidarity. We have a mutually beneficial and positive impact on eachother. He helps me get through each day, keeps me on the right track, and provides comfort. My next parole board hearing in July of 2025 has been my motivation to work toward positive personal change, and eventual freedom. I’m excited to share that at my recent classification review, I was told I qualified for a “Behavioral Override” to transfer to a level three, medium-security yard. This change of circumstance is grounds for a Petition to Advance (PTA) which would move my next hearing up to July of 2023, two years early ! 🙂 I will miss Peter, but I have hope that I may have a greater chance for a parole grant and release from prison captivity 🙂 Things are better than ever!

 

Christopher, 42

Christopher, 42

Stories

Meet Christopher…

I want to change the culture in prisons, but it’s going to take an effort from the rest of the world as well. I want society to someday paint a different picture of prisons and prisoners.

Incarcerated: 10 years

Housed: Monroe Correctional Complex, Washington

It’s refreshing to know that many people who come to prison, for whatever reasons, often uncover the lies we’ve told ourselves in order to live with the truth of our pasts. For me, this is what caused my life to become a path of justice. as a lifestyle. I’ve heard people say over the years, “I’ve served my time and now my debt is paid,” but the truth is that no amount of time can constitute payment for some of the things I’ve done. In fact, from my study of mathematics, I see this as being similar to an infinite limit, where although we continue paying towards the justice of our past.. although our debt to the world may become smaller and smaller, there is no point in our lives where we can say, “The debt is finally paid, it’s time to kick up my feet!” I think we should live in a way that contributes positive value into the world, a byproduct of a better way to live! My way of life is wrapped around the world of mathematics where I live my justice in the pursuit of beauty. I’m more free doing this, than I ever was while lost in addiction. I want to change the culture in prisons, but it’s going to take an effort from the rest of the world as well. I want society to someday paint a different picture of prisons and prisoners. I  want prisoners to realize that it’s our job to serve the Justice for our crimes.. not our department of corrections number. We need to be responsible and accountable to allow for enough forgiveness – for ourselves – so that we can heal in a way where we can fix those flaws that led us here. That’s our responsibility, it’s a necessary part of actual Justice. I know that this is an uncommon story of “me” in prison, but this is more “me”than any life story I can sum up in a few paragraphs. I see organizations like HUMANS, the Prison Mathematics Project and the Prison Journalism Project as doing their part to change the culture of prisons through altering the lense for which the outside world sees prisoners for what they actually are… humans.

 

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