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Carlos, 57

Carlos, 57

Stories

Carlos
Carlos
Carlos

Meet Carlos…

“I have shared the thrill of victory and felt the agony of defeat, yet in each instant I always grew from my experience.”

Carlos, 57

Incarcerated: 26 years

My journey as a coach goes back over a 29 year span, I started coaching as a way to spend time with my three kids, I signed them up for the Oakland Dynamites Pop Warner Football Program, my sons played Pee Wee and Midgets and my daughter was a Jr. Midget Cheerleader, and I would show up to support them and watch as they practiced.

One day the coaches were late arriving, so I got the team warmed up while we waited for the coaches to arrive, and that was the start of my coaching journey. Moving forward the coach asked me to warm the team up before they arrived, and once the preseason started they had invited me to join their team as an offensive line coach. I didn’t know too much about coaching so they took me to a workshop to gain insight on how to coach kids at that level, as well as learn safety tips on how to identify kids that were hurt. I was also able to take the coaches test, and received my certification in coaching.

I’ve been coaching various sports ever since from football, baseball, and basketball yet my passion has always been the gridiron field. I have shared the thrill of victory and felt the agony of defeat, yet in each instant I always grew from my experience.

When I came to prison I had walked away from coaching because I didn’t have the drive of old that lured me to the game, and I succumbed to the prison lifestyle. I made my share of poor choices behind the wall. I have coached on every level yard from four down to two and I have had my share of successes on each one, as well as felt the sting of envy, hate and sabotage, yet I never gave up the hope to always share the fundamentals of teamwork, sportsmanship, commitment and dedication that came along with coaching.

For me coaching is my way of giving back, and it allows me the space to get to know the young men who felt unseen or unheard growing up the way I often felt. To me coaching has become my tool for rehabilitation, because without it I would trudge down the wrong path and make poor choices when those feelings of loneliness and low self-worth surfaced. I thank God that I was introduced to coaching all those years ago, because it has allowed me to truly dig deep within myself to understand how I’m feeling or what I’m needing in any given moment, as well as be a support system for the men who are willing to share their journey with me, as I share mine with them, and learn a little football along the way.

To me coaching is about showing up and showing out as a team on or off the field.

One voice, one team, one heartbeat.

I thank God every day that I’m able to have the patience to give back and be of service as a coach.

Zach, 31

Zach, 31

Stories

Zach

Meet Zach…

“When I walk, there is a grace about my stride that my clothes can’t hide.”

Zach, 31

Incarcerated: 2 years

The Black Man

I am a man. I am a black man. I am a black man transported from Africa, transformed in America. I am a black man whose roots stretch across the seas to the very land that gave birth to human-kind itself. I am a black man with a spirit and strength in my soul. When I walk, there is a grace about my stride that my clothes can’t hide. While I was building great civilizations, others were still in caves. I used complex equations and methods of construction to build pyramids to marvel. I’m a pacesetter, a record breaker, a co-creator with the creator. I performed the first successful heart surgery. I planned and designed Washington, D.C. I was the first man to set foot on the North Pole. I have scored more goals in basketball than any man in history, and I even broke Babe Ruth’s unbreakable record. I invented jazz to free my imprisoned soul. I was rappin’ before rap, and tappin’ before tap. Rhythm and Blues, I invented that too. The rhythm I received in Africa. The blues I got in America. I was forced to come to a land that was not interested in my strong body. Some tried to kill my mind with ignorance, but I became a master of survival.  I’ve been through slavery, separation, castration, miscegenation, so-called emancipation, Klu-Klux-Klanization, separate but equalization, civil rights legislation, frustration and I am still looking for complete social liberation. When I died, my tombstone read, “Free at Last, Free at Last, Thank God Almighty, I am Free at Last.” I am a black man who had to die to truly be free. I can read, I can write, I can speak and oooh can I preach. You see, I am so strong that I can afford to be weak, but so weak that I cannot afford to be without God. For I still have battles to fight in the hearts and the minds of those who would enslave me if they could. So you see, I am a BLACK MAN, but the question is, who are you? 

Spencer, 44

Spencer, 44

Stories

Spencer

Meet Spencer…

“He saw cool waters gleaming, and a sweet green oasis“

 

Spencer, 44

Incarcerated: 6 years

Housed: Texas Department of Criminal Justice, Hightower

 

Love’s Mirage

 

Midway upon the route, he paused a thirst

And suddenly, across the wastes of heat

He saw cool waters gleaming, and a sweet green oasis

Upon his vision burst

A tender dream, long in his bosom nursed

Spread love’s illusive venture for his feet

The barren sands changed into golden wheat

The way grew glad that late had seemed accused

She shone, the woman wonder on his soul

The garden spot for which men toil and wait

The house of rest that is each heart’s demand

But when at last he reached the gleaming goal

He found oh cruel irony of fate

But desert sun upon the desert sand

This is love’s mirage

 

Sirrel, 39

Sirrel, 39

Stories

Sirrel

Meet Sirrel…

“I felt the weight of sin and the death that lies in this body.”

Sirrel, 39

Incarcerated: 9 years

Housed: San Quentin State Prison

These are true events that have taken place in my life. When I was arrested, I was teased until my kidneys failed. At this point, I felt my soul leave my body and thought I was going to hell. All I was able to do was say, “Jesus forgive me.” At that point, I woke up in the ambulance for a brief second and then I passed out again. Now I’m in prison and I hear chatter on the tier about this book called, “Heaven is For Real”. Before I read the book, I was discrediting the kid’s story until I had an outer-body experience. In 2015, I was meditating and reading Corinthians 12:1-7, where Paul was talking about an outer-body experience. Things only happened back then. At this point, I was feeling unworthy of God’s love and forgiveness. Then I was asleep and out of my body; I was in “Heaven”. I couldn’t see the children but I could hear their laughter. I had seen a table with a beautiful tablecloth, a reef, and God was saying that I was welcome to come home. And then I woke up. I felt the weight of sin and the death that lies in this body. When I was in heaven, I felt so secure, so loved, and without a worry in the world. So I cried out to my spirit, “Why? Why must I come back?” 

These were the two messages: Never discredit someone’s story when you don’t know what has transpired in their life. And God said, “I send no one to hell, people choose hell by rejecting Jesus.”

I have been to Heaven, 

I had an outer-body experience, and I didn’t want to come back to this world! 

 

Michael, 44

Michael, 44

Stories

Michael

Meet Michael…

“I was a troubled kid and had experienced too much hurt and seen too many disappointments to give or receive love properly. Once I really found love, it would eventually lead to my incarceration.”

Michael, 44

Incarcerated: 23 years

Housed: Sing Sing Correctional Facility, Ossining, New York

I ended up meeting a woman who was willing to let me live with her, under one condition; that I break up with Rose. Looking back now, I know the smartest thing to have done, would’ve been to tell Rose the truth of my plan rather than have her really believe I was breaking up with her. Especially when I had already proposed to her. Thinking back now, I’m really seeing how stupid and idiotic my plan was. Especially with someone like Rose. I was far from being a man back then, so I ended up going with my foolish plan and all hell broke loose. Events led to me being jumped by Rose, her mom and Rose’s step-sister; and even then I did not hit anyone. Rose was now 4 months pregnant at the time. When I tried to leave the scene, Rose grabbed me and wouldn’t let go, nor would anyone help me get her off me. Everyone just watched, friends, neighbors, everybody. I just wanted to leave, because I knew the cops were already out looking for me because of the fight Rose and I had earlier at her mom’s house. Rose had destroyed the woman’s car that I had driven over there, and I threw a car-jack through her house window in return. It was pure chaos earlier that day, but now all I wanted to do was get Rose to let me go without hurting her or the baby. I thought if I pointed my gun at her it would scare her into letting me go. That didn’t work. It just made her madder, and she started pushing and pulling on me. All I heard was the gun go off. I couldn’t believe it as I watched her body collapse in front of me. It was only when I got away from the crowd that I cried like I did the night I nipped her on the chin. I call this story “Unspoken Love”, because I never told Rose I loved her. This is a pain I have carried for a long time. If I had just been honest with her about my reason for needing to pretend that I broke up with her, if only I had told her how much I loved her. If only I could go back in time. If’s- have become the eternal burden I carry. Three lives were lost that day though the world only counted two. Rose, my son, and me.

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