Amir, 72

Amir, 72

Meet Amir…

I stayed out of prison for five years and came back with a life sentence for attempted murder. For the first time I looked at who I really was.

Amir, 72
Incarcerated: 20 years
Housed: San Quentin State Prison, San Quentin, CA

I am a career criminal, my history started in 1967. I was not raised to be a drug addict-alcoholic and a career criminal. My mother and father were hard working people. They provided for me, my sister and brother and we never went hungry. At a very young age I started to rebel at home, in school, and my environment. Stealing, gambling, ditching school, and at 14, I started smoking pot and drinking. As I got older all these behaviors escalated. At 16, my parents sent me to see a psychiatrist. This did not last long. After eight sessions I told my parents I was through with the psychiatrist, and they could give me that money. At 17, I went to a juvenile camp in the Malibu mountains for six months. Upon release I went right back into my dysfunctional household and environment. Within eight months I was in the Los Angeles county jail, for multiple robbery charges. My first county jail experience was fun-games-and insanity. By the time I went to youth authority I was a better crook and gambler. After 22 months at youth training school, I paroled in 1971. I learned a good trade, sheet metal. I was in between an apprentice and journeyman. I went to the local union for a job interview. I was denied based on my skin color, I knew more about sheet metal than the interviewer. One of my original pains was not getting that job, I still live with that pain today. I met a beautiful girl, got married and had two wonderful kids. I enrolled in college and was still drinking and using. My habits shifted to using heroin. I got hooked and dropped out of college. At 25, I went to prison for the first time. Prison a horrible scene in 1977, prison was what you made it. The adventure got better as years went by. I paroled in 1982. I did not try to find work of any kind. I started hustling and hanging out with the wrong crowd. My mantra. “Everything came out of the street, if I didn’t win I didn’t eat.” I went back to prison in 1984, 1986, 1988 and 1995. I stayed out of prison for five years and came back with a life sentence for attempted murder. For the first time I looked at who I really was. Full of a bunch of mental, emotional and spiritual garbage. I finally found out I know nothing. Fighting back I had to examine every aspect of my life. After twenty years of incarceration I’m still soul searching. I no longer have all the answers. I have turned all of my problems over to God. God is in charge and not me.

Victor, 54

Victor, 54

Meet Victor…

I scanned the dayroom, paying particular attention to people’s hands, looking for weapons, and to eyes and faces to see attitudes and signs of nervousness.

Victor, 54
Incarcerated: 27 years
Housed: Correctional Training Facility, Soledad, CA

Prison is a very dangerous place, especially in the crowded dayroom where we have to wait until the guards unlock our cell doors. So when my five foot, one inch, hundred and ten pound buddy, Cuba suddenly stopped talking and his sight appeared to see through me, I got a bit nervous. We had been talking for about five minutes and everything was fine. He was telling me about a funny incident that had happened at his job in the kitchen, and we were both laughing. I call him Mr. Magoo, he is a naturally funny guy. His strong Cuban accent and bubbly personality made his conversations extremely funny. That day, he made me laugh so hard I impulsively gave him a slight hug for a second or two, before backing up to continue laughing. That’s when I noticed something odd, “What’s wrong, is there a fight behind me?” I asked him. I quickly turned and scanned the people behind me. Everything seemed normal. The place was packed with inmates waiting for the cell to unlock but no fight or signs of any unusual tension. Cuba simply answered, “Nothing.” I still had some laughter to unleash. However, my little friend was still frozen and staring through me. I looked back again. This time searching more intensely just in case the possible danger was aimed at me. I scanned the dayroom, paying particular attention to people’s hands, looking for weapons, and to eyes and faces to see attitudes and signs of nervousness. Still, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, “What’s wrong Cuba?” I asked again. “You’re making me nervous.” “Nothing” he answered, but he would not look at me. He was still staring straight toward the wall. I moved to his left side trying to see what he was seeing. He was in his 60’s, so I wondered if maybe he was having a stroke. I’ve seen people having strokes, and they just freeze and stay silent. So, I asked him, “Are you okay Cuba? Do you feel okay?” He nodded yes, but remained a statue. “Cuba, please! I’m concerned. You’re getting me nervous. Please tell me what’s wrong?” After a few seconds, he looked at me, and in a very soft and broken tone of voice, he said: “Biktor, I’ve been locked-up for over 23 years and this is the first time someone has ever hugged me.” This time, I was the one frozen and speechless. From that day, and until the day he went home a year later, I hugged him every time I saw him.

Zach, 31

Zach, 31

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Meet Zach…

If a negative thought comes at you, deflect it like a ping pong ball. It will keep coming back but keep deflecting it.

Zach, 31
Incarcerated: 2 years
Housed: San Quentin State Prison, San Quentin, CA

I met her at a club in Oakland. I saved her from a harasser, and then we got to talking. The next morning we took an uber to her car, and she drove me back home. I remember her Mini Cooper; it was so much bigger inside than it looked from the outside. She told me to call her, but I never did. We went back and forth forever – – “You’re not gonna tell me when to call, you call me!” – but she finally called and invited me over. I said no at first but she convinced me. Eventually she picked me up and took me to her house. Amy lived in a huge, beautiful house. I couldn’t believe it! I was taking pictures and videotaping it the whole time. I remember her laughing and asking, “Where did you think I lived, an apartment?” I couldn’t tell she was rich; she wore hippie clothes, and she doesn’t brag – except when she does, and she’s hilarious like a comedian. I can’t ever get ma[d at her. We can talk for hours. She’ll say anything to make me happy, and I love her sweet nothings. She and I are in a great spot. She has a successful business selling facial products, and I have a passion for making people feel good, especially my mom.

Early on in prison, I spent 45 days completely by myself. I had to be in prison to experience that as I had always wanted to be with others. I was scared of being alone. I cried for days, experiencing all the emotions I had been holding in. I cried about everything, what made me sad, what made me mad and I let it go. I told myself, you’re the only one here now, you came by yourself, and you’ll leave by yourself. I wrote a letter to myself to break it all down, to take away the negativity. I took the advice of Napoleon Hill and pushed it away so I could be my best self. His books were a big help for me to think about things differently. If a negative thought comes at you, deflect it like a ping pong ball or it will keep coming back. What you can dream of you can achieve–stay positive!

Roy Lee, 68

Roy Lee, 68

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Meet Roy Lee…

The powers that be, have no idea all the good teachings Stacy did for people.

Roy Lee, 68
Incarcerated: 45 years
Housed: Valley State Prison, Chowchilla, CA

I met a lady pushing a shopping cart through Quentin. It was full of art supplies, she stopped at all the cells and asked if I’d like to draw. From that point on she’d stop by every week and give me pointers. Twenty some years and three prisons later, I met with Stacy Hay, five days a week, in her classroom in the Arts in Corrections building and learned something new. She taught me that after three days of beating Mulberry bark with wooden hammers I could make paper. She taught me how to make hard back books from scratch. I learn mosaic art for a number of mascot projects for nearby schools. I sat with her for hours talking and watching her paint. Her paintings were beautiful, she could keep up with the best of them, she taught me momo printing. The flier I added was of a momo print I did of celtic knot work.

You draw out what you want, cut them out, ink them up, place them on a sheet of fiberglass, with a sheet of damp printing paper over it and run it through a press. She was one of the main driving forces in my life that has kept me upright. I brought music to her to copy for her shop, she was like an old hippy from the early 70’s, I brought Alanis Morissette. Her first CD was kind of racy. One day her husband was a visiting artist and he asked as he was sweating me, “Why do you give my ol lady stuff like that to play?” I remember telling him, it’s time to come out of the 60’s and move forward. It hurt to be moved from that prison. I heard right after I left they shut down the Arts in Corrections program. The powers that be, have no idea all the good teachings Stacy did for people. I’ve spent many years trying to give back, but with this system, it is sort of like the old west, once you are put in one spot, that is it! Like the old gunfighters who are not allowed to hang up your guns, but I will keep pushing forward with hope in my heart and peace in my soul.

Joseph, 67

Joseph, 67

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Meet Joseph…

From slavery to unity, through suffering and scorn,
Katrina can’t break us as Americans,
Like before, we’ll weather the storm.

Joseph, 67
Incarcerated: 32 years
Housed: Kern Valley State Prison, Delano, CA

Americans will be the winner

Now, how do I describe the pain and hurt or say what I deeply feel,
Just the thought of what I seen and heard of Katrina, all man, I’m feeling seriously ill,
To the core of my bones, I felt a horribly and nasty cold chill,
When I heard the levee broke, I mean, man tell me what the real deal
Sure all the people were warned before Katrina came crashing through,
But the deft, dumb, cripple, old and blind, what were they suppose to do,

The flood water problems were known to hit, many, many, many, years ago,
Major computerized testing, for the levy’s weakness, against the flood waters flow,
Now, all of a sudden I’m hearing rumors, and claims that the government didn’t even know,
Man, I’m not trying to heart that crap, come on people say it isn’t so,
The President and FEMA, but not everyone,

Was untimely with relief efforts to get the job done,
Walmart donated water, needed gas, and food was donated too,
But FEMA turned those items away, without a clue as to what they was suppose to do,
Now, if most the people in the Katrina Disaster were white instead of black,
The question must be asked, would a majority all white American Government,
Held those relief efforts back,

Now, maybe I’m just suffering with an illusion from all the Katrina misery,
Or is it true that, Dogging Blacks is the fiber of White American History,
But there is a side of the Katrina Disaster that I must say is very bright,
Most Americans, Celebrities, and the whole world is helping,
And many of those people or White,
What hurt’s me real bad in this Katrina situation,
Was the Women, Children and little babies crying,
People begging for help and food,
While older people were left dead with animals dead or dying,
Americans are Black, White, Red, Yellow and Brown,
Just to name a few,

And we will get busy and turn this disaster around,
That’s just what Americans do,
Can you feel the pain of my profuse crying,
Please Lord take the stake from my heart,
Because I feel like dying,
There are no amount of words that can truly express how ill I feel,
I can understand the looters,
People gotta eat,
Man, just keeping it real,
But the raping of little girls and women,
My God, gave me a real cold chill,

Got no time now for pointing the finger,
And that’s a natural fact,
But, can we all just get along,
At least until we get Louisiana and Mississippi back,
Now, we all know it’s only right for us,
To mourn for all those that die,
But, all the death, and hungry People crying for help due to Katrina,
Made blood, sweat and tears fall from my eyes,
But, I have faith and hope in the Unseen,
And the bells of liberty and freedom from this disaster will continue to ring,

And as I reflect on the late great Martin Luther King,
I know Americans will grasp the vision,
And fulfill the dream,
We will get up and rebuild Louisiana and Mississippi,
And I mean like never before,
For the whole entire world to see,
And none will be able to ignore,
So we get to stand the coarse together oh mighty Americans,
Stand the course and fight the good fight,
Put aside all out petty differences,
And let all of Humanity see how we can unite.

Americans, you know how we can do it,
Believe me, there’s no doubt in mind,
Cause we’ve already been thru hell and back,
As revealed throughout the annals of time,
From slavery to unity, through suffering and scorn,
Katrina can’t break us as Americans,
Like before, we’ll weather the storm,
We must remember to focus on the sunshine,
As we march bravely through the night,
Be strong through all the hurt, pain and death due to Katrina,
Cause we walk in faith, and not by Sight,
This Hurricane opponent who left all the damage,
Newscasters have named it Katrina,
But when it’s all over said and done,

AMERICANS WILL BE THE WINNER.

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