Humans of San Quentin logo
Jon’s Gallery

Jon’s Gallery

ART from Inside

 

Artist Jon

Jon

Jon, 42 years old

Incarcerated: 7 years

I  found Christ and my spiritual life has grown along with my faith and hope. I am sharing with Humans of San Quentin to give back and hopefully share some smiles, positivity, and inspire others. I love volunteering and giving back. I never sell any of my work. The rewards come with smiles, laughter, and the possibility you could change the direction of someone’s difficult day. The painting I created started with a project that went from the walls of my cell to canvas. I have always been good with my hands fixing and innovating. When I find something that makes me happy I share it in hopes it will bring joy to others. With patience and peace good things will find you. You are worth it, never give up! My family wanted to see my paintings so I had to put them on canvas so I could mail them home. HoSQ gives me the opportunity to share my work with not only my family but anyone that wants to see. Thank you for the wonderful opportunity to rediscover a little HUMANITY.

Javier, 31

Javier, 31

Stories

Ciara, 34

Meet Javier…

“I’ve learned that if someone gives me an opportunity, I can accomplish a lot”

Javier, 31

Incarcerated: 2 years

My bad behavior started at the end of my freshman year of high school. I was approached by one of my friends and he asked if I wanted to join the hood. I automatically said yes. I was getting respect, hanging out with the cool kids, and riding in the Yukon. Everybody knew us, all the females were on us, but more importantly, our brothers weren’t getting picked on anymore after school. One day, Child Protective Services came in with sheriffs to take my brothers and sisters. They didn’t take me because I was a ward of the state, and had been released to my mother while on juvenile probation. It wasn’t the same without my family. I took it out on random people and so-called enemies. I would get high and drunk to feel better and numb myself so I wouldn’t feel alone. I didn’t know how to handle that feeling, so I would look for girls to hook up with. I stabbed another 18 year old, went to jail, and a public defender got me out on a misdemeanor.  I had to learn the hard way since no one was really guarding me. I never met my father and my step dad didn’t like me. My mom was working on how to get my brothers and sisters back, her two boys and four girls. I found the attention I needed from the gang. We were smoking trees, drinking and hanging with different females. Now, that’s all changed. I miss the food, traveling, and doing whatever I want. I’ve learned that if someone gives me an opportunity I can accomplish a lot. I talk to my loved one’s two to three times a month. Love is something I see really far away. Since I’m incarcerated, a female would probably be scared of me and have way better options than me anyways. I have used being in prison to my advantage. Being in the streets, I would have never gotten my diploma. People have not believed in me or considered giving me an opportunity to prove myself. They automatically think I’m a convict that’s going to steal or be violent towards them. I’ll always be a liar to them. My only option is to keep educating myself; whether it’s life skills, anger management, or even obtaining some type of college degree. I hope that people who really want to change will do the same.

Amir, 72

Amir, 72

Stories

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.

Zach, 31

Zach, 31

Stories

humans_roy_202309_chowchillastateprison_12

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!

Kevin, 58

Kevin, 58

Stories

humans_kevin_202308_sanquentinstateprison_1

Meet Kevin…

I enjoyed every smile and assumed joy that another human being received as they came upon a free Sunday newspaper on top of the newsstand.

Kevin, 58
Incarcerated: 15 years
Housed: San Quentin State Prison, San Quentin, CA

Years ago, I was stationed at Ft. Meyer Virginia, the Army base where the Arlington National Cemetery is. I was discovering who I was and what I believe in. Honor, duty, service, big ideas. I was absorbing many views of life from those around me. One of my friends and fellow soldiers turned me on to the concept of Random Acts of Kindness (RAK). I really appreciated Cindy’s kindness and outlook on life. I started to apply this concept to my life.

My new modus operandi for RAK in 1986 became: buy one Sunday paper and leave one Sunday paper, on top of the newspaper box. I left them in the sun. I left them in the snow. I left them in the dark of night. I started the journey when newspapers were $1.25 a paper and ended when they were $2.50. Buy one/leave one, that was my motto. The Sunday ritual of reading the paper was made even sweeter by RAK. I also recognized that my RAK moments of joy were on the sufferance of the newspaper company. I admit that over the years my joy has been tempered by a wee bit of guilt.

I started this journey in Virginia and took it on the road. Washington D.C., Missouri, Kansas, Oregon, Washington, and California where the story ends. In the intervening years, my wives, all three were witnesses and participants in my RAK spree across the US. I enjoyed every smile and assumed joy that another human being received as they came upon a free Sunday newspaper on top of the newsstand.

One morning, with the kids off to school, Ashley, my partner and I were ready for the bill day. First stop, Summit City, the town where the workers lived who built the Shasta Dam, and the post office. The unspoken anticipation of our shared RAK moment about to happen. We arrive, Ashley hops out with a handful of quarters, and troops to the newspaper stand. She turns and is running back full of glee and shouting my name, “Kevin, Kevin, come quick, there’s a newspaper on top of the box.” As I stood there and gazed at that paper, that glorious paper, I felt the rush of the years pass through me, and warmth spread to my heart and all points in between. My secret wish was finally fulfilled. A random stranger had loved me back.

Receive more inspiring stories and news from incarcerated people around the world.