Meet Floyd…

A lack of emotional intelligence pathed the way for me to react instead of processing my emotions.

In prison, I’ve learned that I am worthy and capable and it isn’t healthy to compare myself to others.

I cope with incarceration by living for tomorrow and making it better than today. My life’s purpose is to be of service and bring awareness to men about issues surrounding domestic abuse.

I am currently writing a correspondence self-help course for men in prison dealing with growth and change for a non-profit I co-founded, Awareness Into Domestic Abuse, (AIDA).

My plans upon release are to complete my degree in sociology and build AIDA into a state recognized organization. I seek to conduct workshops, seminars and to develop a batterer intervention program. In particular I’d like to work with the youth and design curriculum to be used in prisons and youth facilities.

Meet Richard…

They have shown me what unconditional love and forgiveness look like. They have accepted me for who I am today.

At the age of 18, I drank, drove, and robbed my 19 year old girlfriend of her life. She was a daughter, sister, niece, and friend to so many in our community. Not a day goes by where my heart does not feel the weight of guilt and shame for my actions. 

However, they bear a different kind of weight in my life today. Thanks to the program opportunities here at San Quentin. Prior to the pandemic, I had learned to share my feelings, accept them, and use them as my motivation for staying clean and sober, getting and staying out of prison, giving back to the people I’ve hurt, and not allowing her death to be absolutely in vain. I undeservingly have the rest of my life ahead of me, but I live everyday gratefully in honor of my girlfriend’s life.

I’m also very grateful for my mom, dad, sisters and friends who have supported me in my recovery and rehabilitation.

Everyday in here, especially during the pandemic, I miss them and daydream about being with them when I’m released.

I’m including a picture of me and my niece Serenity from January. It was only our second time together and I have had to watch her grow up through pictures. It is quite depressing to think about, but I’ve made my bed, so now I have to sleep in it. 

Meet Nicola…

By actively participating in self-exploration I’ve learned to hold myself accountable for the harm I have caused my victims, my community, and my family.

In the early summer of 2014, I was transferring to San Quentin after spending four years in the hot Mojave desert. Ironwood State Prison is no fun, it is extremely hot and miserably humid and most importantly very hostile in every way. It’s certainly not a place to rehabilitate a returning citizen.

When I arrived in SQ, I was completely taken back by the sense of liberty from the programming that is available. Honestly, I felt like I had arrived on another planet. The scenery is breathtaking. Mount Tamalpais towers above and the ocean breeze fills the yard.

It took months to acclimate to the weather and culture. My body ached, specifically my knees after being reconstructed three times. In all transparency, it hurt to walk, I now understand why many elderly people live in dry deserts.

Weather wasn’t my only adjustment. Unlike Ironwood, SQ has many volunteers from the surrounding cities that support their robust programming, it was a shocking transition into the diverse culture. Over the next several years, I reached out to the rehabilitative resources and they truly restored my self-worth and self-esteem.

And, I took account of my past self-destructive lifestyle. The most important change was finding so many new friends who supported me at every step.

My SQ mentors, Frank Jernigan and Julie Kane, have been instrumental in my rehabilitation, they are a huge part of my life. They have taught me about friendship, sacrifice and the true essence of love. They helped me realize that our time in this life is finite and inspired me to use what time I have left to do the work of helping others.

I look forward to spending time with them and paying it forward. In July, I was blessed to be found suitable for parole. I am grateful for the opportunities I have learned at the old SQ, I’ll spend the rest of my days working to make a living amends on behalf of those that I’ve caused egregious harm and live with compassion in my heart for both friend and foe.

Meet Rahsaan…

The hardest part is that I can’t restore the past.

I smile an awful lot for a person in prison. I stay positive and happy despite being sentenced to 55 years of misery. However, my smile is also the “tears of a clown.” I have to laugh to keep from crying over all the pain my choices have caused.

All I can do is my best to help others be happy, to heal, to enjoy the part of the glass that is full and that all starts with a big bright smile.

Meet Louis…

My team of ministers is very blessed that our chaplain treats us like human beings, not outcasts.

Here I am in prison stripes, pink underwear, pink t-shirt and socks with bright orange flip flops. My cell is cold, clammy and nasty. I am coming down from a bad substance abuse habit and unsure if my life is worth continuing. I made a promise to God to serve him, I cried out to the Lord, please lift the power of addiction from my life and I will forever be of service to you. That was twenty years ago, no drugs, no hooch, no pills.

Today, I am a certified minister within the prison system assigned to the ‘Chapel of Hope’ unit. God has called me for His glory to be a shepherd and leader. I love my calling, it’s a humbling honor to be of servitude. Unlike outside ministers, I live with my congregation, wear the same uniform, eat the same food, and experience the unpleasant circumstances of being incarcerated.

Our chapel ‘Redeeming Broken Lives’ believes all people have value, deserve mercy and are loved equally. Every one of us doing time has a mighty testimony in our past. We are drug, alcohol and substance abusers, thieves, ex-gang leaders, murderers and master manipulators. Our unit has a high rate of suicides, HIV, hospice patients and mental health. The barbed wire, steel cages, fences, overcrowding, punitive systematic policies, family loss and separation allows hopelessness to thrive. Suicides peak and men develop self-destructive habits which cultivates violence and staff assaults.

In order to minister effectively, I strive to earn and gain their trust. Trust in prison does not come easy. They must witness me, walking the walk. They are professional observers. One of the first characteristics you inherit doing time is to observe. There is a secular term used in prison, called ‘Being 100’, that means your real. Your word is your bond. As a minister, I strive to be 100 with my flock.

Meet Alex…

I met people who had no reason to care about me, yet they did. Their positive vibes became my peer pressure. I finally stopped blaming others for my failure and I focused on the lessons that I learned. Today, I want my mistakes of yesterday to become my lessons for today.

When I look at my family photos, I can’t help but think of the other families life that I destroyed so many years ago. I have carried the damage I have caused others into every aspect of my life. Because of the negative impact I caused, I felt as though I was responsible for my grandson’s cancer. When he died, I felt like I was the one who cursed him, which crushed me, I didn’t feel as though I was worthy to feel the hurt. My family is the center of my universe and it’s unbearable to think that I took that away from other people.

When I came to prison I was mad at everybody but myself. I was terribly wild and people thought I was crazy. I realize now, my life was a show, an act to keep my mind off my own mistakes and failures. I hated me. My deep hatred and resentment for myself helped me throw away my life.

I allowed drugs to be a mask for my personal struggle and they took me over the edge. As I reflect upon my drug induced days, I thought people were trying to kill me, when it was me who I was running from. The changes that I made in my life occurred when I realized that I would always be filled with hatred unless I did a full overhaul. Overtime, in a tutoring program in SQ, called Free to Succeed,

The Invisible Man

As a kid I ran and played alone as if I were the Invisible Man.
I did have some friends but my joy was still thin
I felt I would never fit in because I am just the Invisible Man.
My mom met the Lord and joined the church life, my friends were soon gone and the mockery began.
Why? Because I am the Invisible Man.
Of course I met new friends, even a girl to hold hands – but deep down inside I knew I’d never fit in.
Why? Because I am the Invisible Man.
The neighborhood kids teased me, the church family did not understand me. So I learned to fight, when I felt things were not right.
The girls were my comfort, they soothed and consoled me.
For once in my life I feel I fit in.
I thought I was cool and joined the gang life.
My fights I would win till my hands were broken.
I’m no longer the Invisible Man.

I kept a job and soon grew tired of gang life. I figured it was time to start a new way of life.
I have a new girlfriend and a child in my life. My joys are very bright.
With an out of control ego I argued fussed
And fought until I was once again alone in
The nights.
I figured, oh well! I still have my child
In my life. But wait, oh no! Who is this guy
Now in my little girl’s life?
Lord please don’t let my baby girl be raised by another man. I should have known I did not fit in. Why?
I never stopped being the Invisible Man.

I turned to the drugs to avoid such harsh pain.
I was weak with no incentive to win.

I tried to love again but my heart remained
Broken. I soon entered the trend of failing black men.

Known to all as, “In and Out of Prison.”
I pulled it together with my dad by my side.
I even have three more kids in my life.

My kids are my incentive to fighting however,
I’m now caught up in a terrible drug life.

I fight, I fight! Then came that horrible
Night. Dad why me for such an end to Freedom life?

All I ever did was try to fit in.
It’s clear once again, I’m just the Invisible Man.

My life came to an end before it truly began
As I ruined another’s life before it could ever begin.

I should have settled for being the Invisible Man.

Just as a kid and now as a man. The way that it started.
I’m alone once again.

To my victims, my family, my kids and grandkids.
How do I say I’m sorry for the life I once lived

Now as an old man serving 52 to Life; maybe, just maybe, it is my time to die.

I no longer care, whether or not if I fit in
Life is what it is and I was born to Live
As the Invisible Man.