Incarcerated: 19 years
Housed: San Quentin State Prison

HoSQ was instrumental in validating my existence outside of the walls of prison. Spending decades in prison as those friends and family members I knew well begin dying or forgetting about me creates an intimate disconnect. I began forgetting voices and then faces until the only people I really know are in prison with me. Receiving an invitation from HoSQ to write anything I wanted to be posted for the world to read was an unexpected opportunity to reach those friends and family members in an exciting and new way. I could tell my story as I remembered it and hope for a response, a reconnection. Although it did not lead to reconnections, it did lead to new connections. The validation I felt I wanted other prisoners to feel. I began spreading the positive effects to others and found a way that I can serve others for no other reason than to bring an unexpected connection into their lives. I have never volunteered to do anything without compensation monetarily. Now I do. Instead of spending time in prison feeling forgotten and useless, I introduce HoSQ’s mission to everyone I come into contact with and many light up at hearing that someone wants to read about them. My world has broken the bonds of prison’s never ending days and brought a purpose into my life. Through advocating for HoSQ I meet new people all the time, which lightens the burden of missing those that have passed and the sting of being forgotten by others. That is important for allot of reasons.

In solidarity,

Michael Moore

Incarcerated: 35 years
Housed: San Quentin State Prison

Humans of San Quentin began as light in the darkness of Covid-19. The effect of people caring for other people, especially a convicted murderer like me who lost my mother and three aunts in a very short time was therapy that I needed to keep me praying and balanced. Humans of San Quentin is important because it is an entity created to exhibit what empathy and love looks and feels like.

Sincerely, Earnest “Ben Shuah” Woods II

Greetings from Henok…

Incarcerated: 16 years
Housed: San Quentin State Prison

When I ask people if they would be interested in sharing a story with us their usual question is “Do I have to share or talk about my crime?” This moment oftentimes is the realization for them, that they are more than their crime, when I respond with “No we don’t want to hear about that, we’re interested in sharing whatever you feel comfortable sharing” In that moment our community members are reminded that they have a rich history prior to prison, and then they share whatever comes from their heart. For me it’s a blessing to see the light in their eyes grow slightly brighter. That is priceless, seeing someone regain & claim their humanity in a story and timed shared.

Meet Douglas…

Incarcerated: 5 years
Housed: San Quentin State Prison, California
I am a single father of three. I must be honest, this journey has been a test of humility and patience. I have had an opportunity to be still and explore who I am, to know I am worthy of destiny and that I need not settle for consequence. I am an artist of pens, pencils and paint brushes, a Spoken Word Poet and writer. I am addicted to reading books. I am an animal lover and child of the beaches of northern California. I have rediscovered the infectious sense of humor that I got from my mom. Laughter helps me remember the warmth of the sun when the chill of loneliness becomes almost too much to bear. I find myself encouraging anyone who will listen (even myself) that genuine kindness is truly a super power. I have learned by being kind to our neighbors and strangers, it has allowed me to help heal some of the harm and ugly hurt my irresponsibility have created. By reclaiming my humanity and being committed to restoring my community it has allowed me to be healed.

Dearest Love
It is not fair that
I am lost in the cruel afterglow
Of your fleeting bliss,

I shiver in emotions I can’t control
Bound by tangible memories I cannot escape,

I find myself dreaming within
A fog of immeasurable yearning,

Wanting, craving…
And needing you,

Only to awaken in the warm euphoria of your touch,
Suffering the delicious pain of your absence,

I find myself loving deeper
And missing you more,
By, Truth N. Poetry
Aka Douglas

I HAD ISSUES?
It still hurts
When I look Back,
Thru the unnecessary pain
And the guidance I lacked,
The invisibility of love
The cruel and abusive acts,
Witnessing “Domestic Violence”
The punches and slaps,
The hopelessness I felt
In our dysfunctional trap,
Lost my Mama to drugs
No, I don’t mean crack,
Learned early not to dream
Because my skin was black,

In reality my skin is Brown

But it didn’t stop the systems
From holding me down,
When ever I displayed Brilliance
I always received a frown,
So I gave up and became
The inevitable class clown,
Born and raised in East Oakland
A city but called “The Town”’

For reason
I never understood fully,
At each school
I always fought the bully,

Maybe it was attitude
Perhaps it was my tone,
Or quite possibly I was rehearsing
The brutality I learned a home,

For my behavior
I had no explanations or excuses,
As I was too ashamed to talk about
The daily abuses,

Teachers always said I was smart
Good comprehension, could read and write,
Suffered repeated suspension
For getting into fights,
I started running away
I felt safer in the night,

Once I was almost
Beaten to death
Shortly thereafter
I turned to theft,
I use to get E’s
Soon all I got was F’s,

Emotionally malnourished
I still gave it my best,
As I was choked & slapped
Welts all over my flesh,
One teacher was curious
But wouldn’t hazard a guess
One asked “how come my wounds
Always seem fresh,”
But I was taught
To lie to C.P.S.,

Not adult dared
To be my savior,
Or at least make the connection
Between my scars & my behavior,

Not one family member
Came to court,
As I was described as a
Monster in the Probation Report,

They years of “Child Abuse”
Manifested into crime,
Anti-social delinquent
Was my state of mind,
Juvenile Hall to California Youth Authority
Sadly, I made it to the big time,
The judge was uninterested in why
He said I finally crossed the line,

The past abuses I suffered shattered
My dreams clouded my visions,
As a result of this corruption
I spent over 23 years in prison,
Denying my mental & emotional issues
Was a costly decision,

No one acknowledged that I
Was abused by a goblin,
But punished me
As if I was the problem,
Mental Health Issues
Make no mistake I got em’,

P.T.S.D., Depression
And Anxiety are real
My scars invisible to the naked eye
Familiar would no hand can feel,
A survivor of
A childhood which haunts me still,
By Truth N. Poetry
Aka Douglas