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Shani, 39

Shani, 39

Stories

Meet Shani…

Being isolated forced me to look up. I began to seek God. I prayed and read the Bible. I committed to attending church services, Bible studies, and discipleship classes to build a relationship with God. I built relationships with men of faith to help me grow spiritually. I began to feel the presence of God in my life.

Incarcerated: 6 years

Housed: Patuxent Institution, Jessup, Maryland

I have been sentenced to 40 years for a non-violent drug offense. Before I came to prison I depended on illegal means to support my family. I always had high entrepreneurial aspirations to make a good living, but I had no knowledge or foundation. I believed I had to live a life of crime in order to survive. I thought I could make enough to start my own business and then fly straight. I was proven wrong. It landed me in prison, away from my family for a very long time. My whole life had changed. I lost everything. My family relationships were destroyed. My closest friends betrayed and abandoned me. I was left alone. I was in my darkest hour. The only thing I had left was my faith. Being isolated forced me to look up. I began to seek God. I prayed and read the Bible. I committed to attending church services, Bible studies, and discipleship classes to build a relationship with God. I built relationships with men of faith to help me grow spiritually. I began to feel the presence of God in my life. God began to provide me with all of my immediate needs. My relationship with my family began to be restored. They forgive me and the actions that lead me to prison. I won the visitation of my sons so I could have a relationship with them. Things began to turn around. I have educated myself by reading book after book on financial literacy. I now have a solid financial foundation so I don’t have to do the wrong things to earn a living. I no longer feel or think the same. I have broken the mental bondage I had to do the wrong things to make living. I am not where I used to be spiritually and mentally. I have grown. And I am ready to close this chapter in my life and make the next chapter my best chapter. I want to start an assisted living home for the elderly.

 

Armando, 18

Armando, 18

Stories

Meet Armando…

I have struggled. I told myself I would never be like my father, until I got a taste of the street life, fast money, fast cars, and the baddest women. Growing up in Vallejo it ain’t nothing but that.

Incarcerated: 1 year
Housed: Solano County Juvenile Detention Center, Fairfield, California

My dad has been in and out of San Quentin. I have been in and out of jail since I was 15 for robberies and gun charges. This last time I was under investigation for a shooting and was stopped, then detained and questioned. I had no idea what they were talking about. My vehicle had matched the description of the car that was involved. I was searched for a firearm. They found nothing, but some mail I had just picked up from my uncle’s house. They said they were going to search his house for the weapon ‘I used’ in the shooting,  but I said they couldn’t because that wasn’t where I lived. They still ended up searching his house and found an AR-15. The people in the house said it was mine. I ended up pleading guilty and sentenced to five years.

Since being incarcerated, I’ve graduated high school, started college and completed many other programs. Doing time separates the real from the fake, living life fast you are always on the go. You can’t tell the difference between salt and sugar, until you taste it. Growing up I lived in a domestic violent household and have been mentally and physically abused. I moved from house to house, bullied and was the bully. I have struggled. I told myself I would never be like my father, until I got a taste of the street life, fast money, fast cars, and the baddest women. Growing up in Vallejo it ain’t nothing but that. I really didn’t have a choice being the oldest male in the house with a single mother. I robbed to eat and  basically live. I made alliances and enemies so I had to carry a pistol to survive in my community. I went to my local high school and was robbing people back to back. I was under investigation for 50 different robberies, the school never filed charges though. I hope to live life legally and correctly, I want to be able to be free and happy. The streets are for the birds. I don’t have many pictures, only one with my little sister on a furlough from jail for a funeral. I am a family man and want to be a positive role model.

Christopher, 43

Christopher, 43

Stories

Meet Christopher…

Today, I’m a peaceful person since coming to prison. I live by a code of ethics I’ve learned from Odinism and Islam: courage, truth, honor, fidelity, hospitality, industryness, self-reliance and perseverance.

Incarcerated: 16 years

Before I came to prison I was a gang member. I was known as Calavera. The only reason I was a part of the gang was because I was a joke to them. I found this information out after seven years of thinking I was one of them. I guess I was really naive. I used to skateboard with the West Side Santa Cruz Beach Street Drinking Crew, they knew me as Grillfinger. I got the nickname because of my teeth, after I flipped them off. Before Calavera or Grillfinger, I was known as Fishbone, I got that back in 1992 in juvenile hall. A fishing company used to donate fish to us. I got a fishbone stuck in my throat and went to the hospital to have it pulled out. I still go by all of my nicknames. They are still me. Today, I’m a peaceful person since coming to prison. I live by a code of ethics I’ve learned from Odinism and Islam: courage, truth, honor, fidelity, hospitality, industryness, self-reliance and perseverance. I was an Odinist for 13 years and a Gothi (spiritual leader).  I learned from my elder, Andrew Lee Granger, who’s been practicing Odinism for over 40 years. I’m a Muslim now. On the streets I used to be a Christian, I was part of Victory Outreach. My pastor was Victor Alverez Sr. He’s been to prison and was slung back. He was a good dude who tried to keep me out of trouble. I used to help out behind the scenes with the youth by getting donations from skate companies. I had a lot of friends before I came to prison, now all I have is my friend Maria, and my mom. While in prison I’ve learned to control my anger. I’ve even stopped fighting over stupid things. The only way I fight now, is if someone puts their hands on me. Besides that I’m a Big Old Bitch. 

Demiantra, 40

Demiantra, 40

Stories

Meet Demiantra…

Everybody I thought I knew and cared about seemed to take the approach that I died. But, the reality is – last time I checked, I am alive. The pain and suffering that I’ve dealt with throughout my life has shown me I am very much alive.

Incarcerated: 23 years
Housed: San Quentin State Prison, CA

Memoir: Last Time I Checked, I was Alive, by Demiantra Clay.

I chose this title for my memoir because, going to prison at such a young age, is like everybody I thought I knew and cared about seemed to take the approach that I died. But, the reality is that last time I checked I know I am alive because of the pain and suffering that I’ve dealt with on an ongoing basis through out my life– that pain and suffering is a constant reminder of my existence.

The most impactful sentences in my memoir are in the Chapter, “Fifteen Years Down the Line,” which is the epilog– it’s looking what happened to me, 15 years later as I reflect on what I’ve been through as a youth offender.

The parts that make it pop are these words:

“I had a lot of close calls, near-death experiences, and warning signs, and I failed to take heed of them because I wasn’t as grown as I thought I was. A life sentence in prison is worse than one can imagine.” This was a reality check!

Here’s a part that let me know I can play a positive role model for youngsters come from this part:

“Right now, we’re on lockdown because the bloods and crips keep getting into it. Lockdowns means we’re in the cell 24 hours a day, seven days a week. It’s good to keep a cool celly due to these circumstances. My celly is a young homie from Village Town Compton Piru. His name is Knucklehead; we were celly’s in Tehachapi SHU. He’s short timing; he gets out in months. I do my best to help him get in the required mind state for success when he’s released from prison.”

I would not be in a good place, mentally, if it weren’t for my wife – that acknowledgment is written, like this:

“Woodie aka Woo Tang aka Heart Throb and I are together. Yuppee my sisteren Preachtree’s best friend since like 1991. Yuppee Mrs. LaWanda Clay is my God-given queen, my wife, and this year in March 2014, she moved all the way from East Saint Louis, Illinois, to Chico, California in order to be closer to me. Tnanxxx Bao Bao; you are the best mommee!!

What I learned about myself by writing this book is that I’m very determined as long as I stay focused I can accomplish what I set out to do, no matter how much I struggle or complicated it might be.

Jonathan, 48

Jonathan, 48

Stories

Meet Jonathan…

I’ve been sober now for 12 years and have overcome the propaganda that ruled my thoughts. I have learned to care for and respect people for who they are, not the color of their skin or their ethnicity, but who they are as a person. These changes aren’t just behavioral, but a major paradigm shift.

Incarcerated: 27 years
Housed: Washington Corrections Center, Shelton

Not long ago my sister-in-law, Angela, came to visit me with two of my nieces, 13 and 10. It was my first time meeting them. I was a little nervous. Before I came to prison I was great with children, it was easy to relate, now so much has changed. My time in prison has not been easy. I quickly started on the wrong track. I sank further into my addiction, became a white supremacist; and dealt with problems the only way I knew how – by being violent, aggressive and abusive. It took years to discover who I really was. I’ve been sober now for 12 years and have overcome the propaganda that ruled my thoughts. I have learned to care for and respect people for who they are, not the color of their skin or their ethnicity, but who they are as a person. These changes aren’t just behavioral, but a major paradigm shift.

Since then I have created and facilitated programs that share a message of hope and healing to other young prisoners. I mentor people through education, recovery and sometimes health issues. Things many prisoners struggle with; things I have struggled with. Over the years one of the things I have spent a lot of time and effort on is communication. I have found this to be a key element in helping myself and others, and I have become an excellent communicator. Communication relies on language. I was concerned with the upcoming visit despite all my communications experience, I may not be able to speak the language of pre-teen girls. My worries were only partly justified. We had a wonderful visit. It laid the foundation for an open, honest and loving relationship between the girls and I. It is funny how my worries were so overblown, but justified. If you’ve been in one visiting room inside of a prison, then you’ve been in them all. Families trying to retain their privacy at nearby tables while enjoying a brief moment together. Spouses attempting to achieve personal intimacy in a glass bowl. Guards looming and lurking; but overall people just trying to share in a slice of normalcy. I can only imagine how nervous the children must have been, their first time in a prison, visiting an uncle they’ve only spoken to on the phone. Even though they were nervous, I am certain they picked up on my nervousness as well.

It was in this sense of awkwardness when a friend stopped at our table and asked me how I was. He was very polite, greeting everyone and then quickly moved on to his own family. When the youngest girl asked me who he was I told her, he was my partner. I told her that he and I worked together and were friends. It became obvious that both children were confused. They’d become withdrawn and pensive. I asked them if they were okay. They both murmured a yes but remained withdrawn. Angela noticed as well and assured them that everything was okay. When I asked again if they were okay or wanted to ask me something, they did. The eldest sat up straight, set her shoulders and looked me in the eye. She asked, “Uncle Jonny, are you gay?” They must’ve been able to see the shock on my face as Angela laughed. I was surprised, to say the least. Rarely am I at a loss for words, but there I was – shuttering! How am I supposed to approach this subject? I did not prepare for this. For the life of me I could not figure out how we got to this question in one visit. I do not happen to be gay, but I am not offended at the idea either. I am HIV positive; for 30 years now, and have a number of LGBTQ friends, and my half-brother has fully transitioned for more than twenty years. I am no stranger to the community. So, my surprise here wasn’t the question, just at how we got there – where did this come from? Fear not, the all-knowing mother came to the rescue. She said, “Jonny, out there the word ‘partner’…,” now I understood. We were able to have a much more meaningful conversation because of the desire to understand, and I got a lesson on how language has changed in the world. They have become my guide to a world I once knew so well, but have been so far removed.

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