This time has allowed me to become the man I always knew I could be.
Three years ago, I touched down at this place, thinking it was just another mass human caging facility. Or is it? Back then, I truly believed that. Now, a few years later—relatively short to some—I only partly feel the same. My time down isn’t a lot compared to many, but it’s longer than some. The time I got may have been shorter than I deserved, but it was long enough for me to learn what I needed to live a real life.
I just hope what I say resonates, because I know that when we judge based on years served, messages can get lost. I’ve seen it happen, and I’ve done it myself. This year, my perspective shifted. I made use of every day. When I chose to stay here, and at San Quentin—a similar facility—it was to get home faster and work on all my defects, traumas, and messed-up thinking. I gave up the so-called ‘normal’ prison life: the politics, the “homies this, homies that.” Sure, I still have homies, but I stick with the like-minded ones who are also trying to get home.
When I started to utilize everything in front of me, that’s when I stopped seeing this place as merely a caging facility. It’s a zoo of humans, run by other humans. These men and women have jobs and bills to pay—I get that. People commit crimes, and they do time in places like this. That’s how society works, though in an ideal world, maybe there’d be no crime or prisons. Restorative justice is a great concept and has already seen success in some juvenile systems. For years, I stayed distracted by shunning the system I put myself into, blaming it for treating me as less than human. But then I’d think, “Well, you tried to kill someone, didn’t you?” Isn’t that what wild animals do? Prey on and kill others, even their own kind, for survival or superiority?
That word, superiority, always justified my negative actions. Now, I want to be superior to the old me. I used to deny myself a real life outside of this system, acting like I ended up here by accident. But I know now I can shed this system and live a successful, happy life. Even though these places are designed to break us down, they only will if we let them. People who genuinely care come into these walls to offer us help, faith, knowledge, education, insight, encouragement—a chance at change, and ultimately, a way out. A way to liberation, not just from the physical 6×9 cell surrounded by razor wire, but from the mental prison we may have trapped ourselves in.
If you truly want to change and take a different path, once that mindset sets in, you start to see your way to life and freedom. Living that way attracts healthier situations and people. You begin to relate to things in ways that help you rather than seeing them as irrelevant. That closed mind won’t budge, but by staying open at all times, I’ve been able to learn from everything. I’ve learned that accountability leads to releasing resentment and allows me to forgive myself and others.
I understand that where I am is exactly where I needed to be, for as long as I needed to be here. This time has allowed me to become the man I always knew I could be. I had to be away to truly learn how to appreciate myself, and in turn, I began appreciating the people in my life, valuing those relationships more than ever.
Soon, I’ll be done with this chapter. And while I no longer see this place as just a caging facility, I know there are still those lost, fueling that animalistic nature prisons are known for. For them, I pray and hope they, too, find their way to freedom and peace one day. When I started to utilize everything in front of me, that’s when I stopped seeing this place as merely a caging facility. It’s a zoo of humans, run by other humans.
