Armondo, 44

Armondo, 44

Meet Armando…

I was a violent, domestic partner. It took me 15 years of being in prison to accept I was wrong. I led myself to prison. I was selfish and harmful, consumed with negative behavior and gang activity.

Incarcerated: 15 years
Housed: California State Prison, Lancaster

Everyone needs someone in their life to keep them going while in prison. The love I receive from my family has gotten me through each day of the last 15 years. And my 17 year old son Angel, who needs his father to come back home. I worry about tomorrow. Not knowing if my son will want anything to do with me or when I will be back home. I have not been there for him since he was two. The worry of coming home with my parents not being there. I lost my mother to cancer and my only sister Lorena passed away. I stress about Vanessa, the mother of my son. If she still has a special place in her heart for me. Does she care for me? I guess what keeps me up at night is my past. Everyone who I left behind before coming to prison. Those I love. I have learned that I’m stronger than I ever knew. I’m able to change the old me and be a better version of myself. I learned to be patient with others. To choose my words before speaking. I learned that I had an addiction. It took control while I was in denial and I blamed others for my actions. I was a violent, domestic partner. It took me 15 years of being in prison to accept I was wrong. I led myself to prison. I was selfish, harmful, consumed with negative behavior and gang activity. My parents gave me and my sister everything we needed. They were great role-models. They loved us and spoiled us. The only thing missing was spending time with us. I have learned it is called being “neglected.” I chose to find comfort in the streets. Those friends caused me to be in prison for a long time. I learned I don’t have to be there to be part of a crime, I was supporting the gang lifestyle. I have a board hearing in 2027. By then I’ll be 21 years in prison and 50 years old. What a life lesson.

Robert, 44

Robert, 44

Meet Robert…

I can’t always articulate what I want to say or put my feelings into words. But as soon as I grab a pen or dip my hands into the paint my emotions flow on to the paper or canvas.

Incarcerated: 25 years

I can’t always articulate what I want to say or put my feelings into words. But as soon as I grab a pen or dip my hands into the paint my emotions flow on to the paper or canvas. I don’t use brushes when I paint my Hope Not characters. I love art in all its forms and mediums. Art has been a constant companion throughout most of my time in the system. It is more than just a hobby or something to do to pass the time. Art is the air I breathe, and the sea I swim. I’ve cultivated empathy and reconnected with humanity as a result of practicing art, and honing my skills. Once I realized my ability to create I developed a sense of self-worth and confidence I never had. Arts In Corrections has been a vital part of my rehabilitation. There was a time when it was shut down and canceled across the state, so for more than a few miserable years California prisons did have any art programs. Then in 2013-14 I was at RJ Donovan prison in San Diego and volunteers from San Diego University began a pilot program called Project Paint. The workshops and classes I was allowed to participate in have been some of my best memories in prison. All artists were welcomed and appreciated. Along with drawing and painting techniques I also learned 3D art. I started making Hope Not dolls in RJ Donovan. Each one is unique with recycled materials, its own mask, usually a gas mask or sugar skull. If you’re interested in making a donation to Cystic Fibrosis or Autism charity in exchange for a Hope Not painting or doll, Humans of San Quentin has my contact information. Even though I’m sentenced to life in prison, art has given me freedom.

Greg, 60

Greg, 60

Meet Greg…

“Two weeks after the robbery she picked me out of a lineup. I went to trial. I had a good lawyer, yet I was found guilty. I was given three years to life. I felt like I died that day.”

Incarcerated: 24 years

It was a cold clear day on January 20th I was on parole and was just released three months prior. I was staying with my brother Mike. I needed a car and a place for my girlfriend Debbie and I. I was selling small amounts of dope. Business was slow and my habit was getting bigger every day. I was at the point where I wasn’t going to be able to sustain. I needed money badly. There was a bank a stone’s throw away from the house. It’s in the perfect location. I rode my mountain bike. I parked behind the bank on the other side of the fence. I was higher than a kite, so I didn’t care if I got caught. I waited my turn in line. I didn’t have a weapon. I handed the nice teller a note, she read it and started putting money on the counter, $5,600. I put the money in my jacket pockets and walked out of the bank. I rode that two miles back to my brother’s house in well under five minutes. I bought a car, rented an apartment, and bought a TV and stereo. Nobody saw anything at the bank except the one bank teller. Two weeks after the robbery she picked me out of a lineup. I went to trial. I had a good lawyer, yet I was found guilty. I was given 32 years to life. I felt like I died that day.

Eldridge, 56

Eldridge, 56

Meet Eldridge…

I’ve taught myself, instead of reacting to situations, act on them. To think before I act.

Incarcerated: 30 years
Housed: Statesville Correctional Center, Joliet, Illinois

I’ve been talking to men the past 30 years and it’s hard to share your feelings with guys in this place. My mom lives in Michigan so I haven’t seen her in 30 years. We talk on the phone two times a week. I have never had a visit which is sad. Recently I’ve tried reaching out to my kids, two daughters, 31 and 36 and my son, 37. I’ve got grandkids I’ve never met and might not ever meet. I don’t know what to say to my kids. I just got back into their lives in 2020 and it’s been strange. We don’t know one another and it’s hard to write because my hands are shot. I have a tablet, so we can email but they haven’t done it and that’s what hurts knowing I have any kind of future with my kids. I filed a clemency petition last year and getting it scares me more than being turned down. I have no place to go and some nights that keep me up, but I have to lift my spirits up and stay strong. Nobody got me here but myself so I blame myself for all the wrong choices I’ve made in my life. I’ve taught myself, instead of reacting to situations, act on them. To think before I act. I have tested positive twice for Covid but never got sick. But I feel blessed, four of my friends didn’t make it. I shed a lot of tears for them. During these Covid times, please stay safe.

Stevin, 63

Stevin, 63

Meet Stevin…

As hard as life might be, in and out of prison, I’ve learned a secret that has changed my life. Happiness is a choice, a frame of mind. If you wake up each day and decide that you’re going to feel happiness and joy – you will

Incarcerated: 42 years

When I say I’m in prison, I’m describing where my body is, not my mind or spirit. After 42 years in prison, my body is slowly breaking down, yet despite all that, I feel blessed. It took several decades to learn how to live, and love, and to be happy. I finally found freedom, true freedom. I can only guess that it may be harder for me because of the environment I grew up in. For a very long time I have struggled with identity. I was told in a very harsh way when I was ten that my father wasn’t really my father, that he had adopted me. Not that I didn’t already feel out of place. As hard as life might be, in and out of prison, I learned a secret that changed my life. Happiness is a choice, a frame of mind. If you wake up each day and decide that you’re going to feel happiness and joy – you will. No matter what bad things happen on that day, it is still a present, enjoy it. Being in prison won’t prevent me from sharing my life, loves, joys or sufferings. I am grateful that prison isn’t much worse than it is. I hope all of you out there in the free world are having awesome lives. Remember it’s all a matter of perspective. You can decide your life or your day! It’s all up to you! I hope you are as blessed as I am. Take care my friends and I’d love to hear from you, friends out there, about your lives. 📸Stevin’s

Alfonso, 37

Alfonso, 37

Meet Alfonso…

“My satisfaction began during my early stage of advocacy volunteering to amend three strikes.”
Incarcerated: 1 year

I’m currently being held for an incident that was caught on tape. It was an open and shut case facing life in prison. I was passing out Daily Bread spiritual advice calendars in my community. I was approached by an old acquaintance, who had viciously and brutally beat me seven years prior. I was unaware that he was well above the alcohol limit, high off cocaine, meth, PCP and THC with a very bad bipolar disorder. In fear of my life, under imminent peril and duress, I acted out in self-defense. I have a wife of 25 years and we have six kids. I am a God-fearing man who has dedicated my life to being a political advocate. I’ve traveled to over 20 states working and interacting with political organizations. Talking and shaking hands with thousands of people who share their views for the future by presenting economic solutions. My satisfaction began during my early stage of advocacy volunteering to amend three strikes. I’ve worked with politicians and mayors. I have registered over ten thousand people to vote. I ran for city council in LA. On my days off I visited homeless shelters. I owned a small business called the A1 kids club and A1 G10 that will hopefully generate thousands of jobs, but is on hold, due to this unexplained sentence of seven years. 📸 Alfonso’s family

 

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