Meet Greg…

To all the human beings who wear blue, who do not let that decide who they are, and to all the free people – teachers, educators, staff, correctional officers, who are human beings, doing a job and service for society that’s not easy. I thank you for your humanness, for making a difference in a population that a lot of society does not care about. I decided to submit to your positive project to show that people can change and grow from insight to remorse.

To all the human beings who wear blue, who do not let that decide who they are, and to all the free people – teachers, educators, staff, correctional officers, who are human beings, doing a job and service for society that’s not easy. I thank you for your humanness, for making a difference in a population that a lot of society does not care about.

Since I was first locked up at the age of 18, I’ve worked earnestly to be a part of society and to reunite with family. I have not wasted 45 years inside prison. Instead, I have chosen to become a certified drug and alcohol counselor, a certified Brother’s Keeper, hospice care provider, to be empathic and to experience feelings and thoughts of other human beings. This has helped me become a better human being.

I always knew my family had Indian blood lines. I never sang the songs or sat in a ceremony or danced at a Pow Wow until coming to SQ in the early ‘80s. The Red Road Sweat Lodge was the first built in a US prison in 1979. Thanks to all the Elders and Indian people, who walked to D.C. for Indian Rights. It led to Jimmy Carter signing the first Religious Freedom Act of 1977. It was and is the point of change and growth that forever changed my life.

During COVID, with no programs, no self help groups, no college classes and no visitors, my stress and loneliness is high, I now lean on my prayers and songs more than ever. Without ceremonies or the Indian grounds, I use the Medicine of Prayer songs to stay centered and healthy.

From the small TV in my cell, I see human beings everywhere stressed and isolating. Two of us live in a small 5’x10’x 9’cell for 22 and a half hours a day, unless you are a critical worker. Every other day, we can use the showers and pay phones.

In order to cope, I fill my days writing family, friends and others like you, good people giving voice to the sometimes forgotten. I read textbooks, do bead work, draw, paint, and watch TV. And when I feel it’s right, I play my handmade cedar flute and sing. This is what’s keeping me grounded.

Meet Eric…

I don’t blame anyone for how I was raised. I understand my parents, no one is perfect. We all have our struggles and demons we deal with.

Since I was a kid I only knew one way to live, one way to escape the hell at home. My mom was either gambling or with other men so she was never in my life. When she did come home, it was only to be welcomed by my drunk dad who would beat her and off she’d run again.

I remember it all, him dragging her around the house by her hair, making her eat broken glass off the floor. She would run to us begging for help, we didn’t know what to do but lock ourselves in our room until the screaming and crying stopped. When it would end, we were in fear of what we may see on the other side of the door. This was routine for us and the neighbors. They never called the cops since they were friends of my dad.

From an early age, I hung out with my older brother and his gang. Every time they told me to fight, get with a girl, drink or smoke, I would, for their approval. It was there, on the streets that I found love not at home.

At 15, I was living with my brother and his lady. I was in and out of juvenile hall and by 17 I was arrested for attempted murder and took a 12 year plea deal. I can’t see my parents since they are immigrants or my brother who has a record.

Meet Reggie…

I am not a religious man, but my mother believes in a God, with a son named Jesus, who could save her and heal her, no matter how long it took. Her faith in God to help her is the greatest gift she bestowed upon me.

To my knowledge, my mother is the first woman I ever fell in love with. She was not the best mother, but I do not believe that God could have blessed me with a better one. I both loved and resented her, if that is possible. At least until I was enlightened about her addiction to drugs. In my own soul searching, I found that I did not resent my mother, I resented the one disease she had that made her an addict. I resented why she started using in the first place. The effects of trauma, especially childhood trauma, is far-reaching and very painful. To cover that pain, people cope by using drugs. My mother fought her addiction several times but failed often. However, she finally conquered her addiction while I was incarcerated. There are only a few years, combined, that I can remember spending time with my mother when she was sober.

With that same faith my parole hearing date changed from 2048 to 2022. I am looking forward to spending time with her again, sober. Although she is not responsible for my life crime (murder), she labored and brought a monster into this world. I constantly reiterate to her that it is not her fault I am in here, and she did the best she could in light of her addiction. She may not say it, but I know my incarceration and the people I hurt, harmed, and injured, weighs heavy on her heart, and mind, the same as it does on mine. Resentment + unforgiveness = misery / pain.

Meet Michael…

I am not a special person, I am a regular person who does special things. I do my part. I am rewarded when others do theirs. 

What gets me through each day in here?

This topic is difficult to answer because each day brings new problems.

I look at life as work and approach it and try to handle it like a job. There’s comfort in running my life like a multimillion dollar corporation and I am the chief executive officer, the better I am at my life the better it gets.

Within my daily life I tend to complain and blame others when it isn’t working. I often hold someone else responsible when it does not give me what I want. Being mindful of doing the best I can means I’ll be paid better. When I perform tasks to the very best of my ability I receive rewards. The one thing that can stop my advancements in life is work. In order to advance, I need to be thorough and become better at it. If I am not successful at work, I am not advancing in life.

Ultimately, I have realized life is not better until I am better. Without giving more I can not get more. Through this process I have learned about my ego and I understand that.

Some of us in here give up on life. We move from day to day, with no plan, no goals, and ultimately no rewards. For me to succeed daily in prison I educate myself and help others, I am then rewarded and feel as though I have done my part. That’s what gets me through the days, weeks, years. 

Meet Joseph…

I know this may sound crazy, but I thank God I came to prison because now I’m learning to be a positive example to my babies, and God willing I will leave here someone they can be proud of.

I’m the proud father of seven beautiful children. I was blessed with two boys and five girls. My children gave me a sense of purpose and helped me get out off the streets. I wanted more than anything to be an example to them and give them what my parents weren’t able to give me.

Then, one December night in 2015, I experienced every parent’s worst nightmare, that dreaded phone call from the police letting you know that something happened to your child. It was the worst pain I have ever felt.

My oldest son, Keymonel had been struck by a big rig on his motorcycle and killed. I felt like God had turned his back on me, I mean all the bad shit I had done, why wouldn’t God spare Keymonel’s life and take me? He was only eighteen, why my son?

From there, my life fell into an uncontrollable, self-destructive, downward spiral. Trying not to deal with reality, I started abusing drugs and alcohol to numb the depression. Not only did getting high destroy me, it tore apart my marriage and household. I was no good to my remaining children or wife.

I honestly felt like I didn’t have shit else to live for. I even thought about committing a crime, in hopes the police would take my life since I was too much of a coward to pull the trigger myself.

But God had different plans for me. I got locked up before I could hurt myself or somebody else.

Optimistically, one could say prison saved my life. I now have a better relationship with my children and x-wife. Although we couldn’t save the union, we have become close friends and she’s very supportive of me getting my shit together.

Since I’ve been incarcerated I’ve been studying for my GED and found that I really enjoy learning and in particular writing. I’m taking vocational classes in electronics as it relates to green energy and solar photovoltaics and attending anger management and narcotics anonymous classes.

When I leave San Quentin, I’ll have a trade and will be a better man than when I got here.