William, 58

William, 58

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Meet William…

What on earth would make this young person, with so much life and joy ahead of her, want to keep in contact with someone like me?

William, 58
Incarcerated: 35 years
Housed: Stateville Correctional Center, Joliet, IL

I met a young volunteer tutor named Annie during my final quarter in Northwestern’s Degree program here. Her forte was all things math related, and since my final course was psychology, she and I rarely interacted. We would smile and greet one another when our paths crossed, but we had almost zero instances of substantive discourse. On the last day of her tenure here, Annie and I sat across from one another, and talked. I learned how genuinely kind, empathetic and bright she was. I lamented that I wished we’d made time to talk sooner, and we’d had the opportunity to talk more often. To my surprise Annie replied, “I’m going to reach out to you William, this won’t be the last time we speak.” I smiled and nodded, but to be honest, I did not take her seriously. What on earth would make this young person, with so much life and joy ahead of her, want to keep in contact with someone like me? You see, I was rightfully convicted of first degree murder, sent to Death Row, had my sentence commuted to Life Without Parole, and have been locked up a total of 35 years of my life! So why would Annie want to know me beyond her duties as a tutor? Then, out of the Blue, I get a new contact alert on my prison issued tablet. Annie and I have built a symbiotic relationship of trust, honesty, respect and mutual encouragement. I give her counsel about boys and life, she teaches me through poems about the world and being human in this new and scary world. I’ve been absent for over three decades. I’ve told Annie in vivid detail, all about my past, the harm I’ve endured, and the harm I’ve unleashed on the world when I walked in pain, ignorance and addiction. Initially, I think I did it to shock her, may be run her away; but she’s stuck by me, saw me not for who I was, and what I’d done; but for who I am now, and the gifts I can give to the world in my healed and self-actualized state. Despite all the odds, I found a friend, I gained acceptance, and for someone I least expected it to come from. Picture is of William and a reporter from PBS – he was featured in a story on bringing back elder parole to Illinois.

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.

Diana, 45

Diana, 45

Meet Diana…

I neglected myself and society as a whole, I couldn’t bear it. I took a step forward to change and I went against the odds.

Diana, 45
Incarcerated: 7 years
Housed: California Institution for Women, Corona, CA

I was five when my little brother and I were given our first drink of alcohol by my mom and dad. My upbringing was full of fear and anxiety. My dad was in and out of prison and abusive. All I saw was dysfunction. My mom tried to be a single parent and raised us in heartbreak, gang infested, poverty. At five I started running away from the lack of love and security in my life. For the lack of love, I grew up seeking it in relationships.

I settled down at 14, domesticated. I stayed home doing the wifely things, when I should’ve been in school, being educated. My own family was still upside-down as I tried to do all I could to help. Alcohol was my go to, before you know it, it was my all. At 18, I went to prison for the first time, scared and lonely. I couldn’t cope with the drastic mistake that changed my whole life. I became a person I never intended to be. In 2016, I was arrested again, this time I was broken into a million pieces. I neglected myself and society as a whole, I couldn’t bear it.

I took a step forward to change and I went against the odds. For the last seven years, I’ve been highly proactive in my personal self development and it’s permanent. I knew I wouldn’t remain in a life I wasn’t ever meant to live. I owe a lot to this community, they have tons of resources, education, jobs, self help groups , you name it. I feel like they are here to rebuild me from the inside-out. I want to build a bridge back to society and re-enter as an asset. My inner and outer freedom is priceless.

Brittany, 28

Brittany, 28

Meet Brittany…

Love is kind, patient, love is with pure intention. Love never gives up, it is our only hope for peace and it should be our mission in life.

Brittany, 28
Incarcerated: 3 years
Housed: Wyoming Women’s Center, Lusk

How do I see love? 

It took my desire to love and to be loved to reach a point of explosion. I decided to stop being that door mat, the person everyone could use and abuse however they pleased. Love was as strange to me as a foreign language. Love meant my parents fed us so we could focus on something other than survival. The circumstances of my unfortunate beginnings instilled in me a sense of low self-worth and created an ideal space for us to beg for every ounce of affection. It wasn’t long before I was an adult by law, but a struggling and scared child at heart. Having spent my entire life focused on the well being of my siblings and myself, I was convinced love was just a fairytale. What stood between me and my dream of being loved was the idea that I wasn’t worthy of such things. I have seen examples of love and have formed my own opinion on how people should be loved. I learned it doesn’t hurt, it is something we can and should give freely. Love is kind, patient, love is with pure intention. Love never gives up, it is our only hope for peace and it should be our mission in life. When judged, scorned, forgotten and abandoned, choose love. Love because you can, not because it’s beneficial or expected. This is how I see love.

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