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Adrien, 29

Stories

Meet Adrien…

Make peace with the parts of your life. Making peace makes life easier.

Adrien, 29
Incarcerated: 1 year
Housed: San Quentin State Prison, San Quentin, California

I was sitting in Reception, waiting to hear which prison I would go to, hearing what other guys were planning on doing when they got released. The last time I was arrested, I turned my life around: got my high school and medical assistant diploma, and worked for three and a half years in the medical field. I enjoy working in clinics, urgent care, primary care, giving injections, taking care of people. It made me proud, too. I’m disappointed that I won’t be able to work in the medical field for a while, but I brought this on myself. Once I get out I will start looking and going back to school. I told them, “Anything and everything is possible. You just can’t doubt yourself.”

I was born on a reservation in Montana, in and out of country jail since I was 18. When I had my first child, a daughter, I wanted to show up for her. She inspired me. I wanted to be a father, different from other fathers who aren’t in their children’s lives. My dad didn’t. He was in and out of prison, not there. I was motivated to do it differently. I have siblings, younger than me. I didn’t have someone to push me to be a better father or a better son. I only had myself and I learned from my mistakes. When I was 10, I had to do that for my siblings when no one else did. It prepared me for being a dad. I didn’t have a childhood. And that made me the father and son I am today. People ask me, “Why do you talk to your dad? If he wasn’t there for you.” But I say, “Why not? Why be petty? I have to be the bigger man, even though he wasn’t there for me, he can be there for his grandchildren.” Make peace with the parts of your life. Making peace makes life easier. When I was going to school I was tatted up, looking just like another gangster. I wanted to prove them wrong. It was a good motivator.

When I first got to San Quentin in December, they thought I was Mexican not Native American. White Eagle, one of my elders, brought me closer to my native roots. I’m his cellie now. I’m proud to be Native American, being here made me connect with my inner roots. I know how to help people now. When one of my four kids is hurt, they come to me. “Dad, what’s wrong? Make it better.” With Covid I helped them not be afraid of testing, of getting sick. I talked with my daughter, my oldest, and told her, “Don’t grow up too fast. Don’t worry. Just be a kid.” I’m getting out in 12 days, so I can be there for her and my other kids. I just found out that my mom was in an induced coma after surgery and passed away after the surgery. So maybe I can get partial custody of my younger siblings.

This incarceration has made my relationship stronger with my fiance. I had doubts, but I see she really does care about me. I can’t wait to get married. She really stuck by my side through this all and I am so thankful to have her. I keep believing, anything is possible.

Regal, 62

Regal, 62

Stories

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Meet Regal…

When you know your purpose on this earth, and you know your true value, then you know how much you truly are worth.

Regal, 62
Incarcerated: 23 years
Housed: San Quentin State Prison, San Quentin, California

To watch Regal’s one minute video on our YouTube, click here.

Download the six minute version of Regal’s Song for Everyone here!

I finally figured it out. I wrote a song and isolated a key component that would allow a person to commit suicide and-or live a destructive lifestyle like mine. I inserted it into a song in the form of a question, because this question needs to be asked each and every day. Because for some of us who can’t answer it, find ways to destroy ourselves. 

Would you know your worth

When on earth

If you can’t answer this question right now that’s all right. 

Just for now, it’s fine to answer the question like this:

Maybe, maybe if I stop walking around with my head hanging down

trying to be like all the perfect pictures that I see in society

and just use my time to be a better person, a better man

maybe then I can comprehend 

the question that’s for you and me:

Would you know your worth

While on Earth

Maybe when I come to crossroads in my life

Where I can choose wrong or right

Listen to that small voice

And make the right choice

Maybe then being in touch from within

I will understand the question

That’s for you and me

Would you know your worth

While on Earth

Maybe maybe if I know daddy’s strong

I can admit when he’s wrong

I can’t imagine [??] in a fight

Doesn’t let it left all night

When the storms of life come around

He knows that his relationship is strong

[unclear]

And as the clouds part

Blue skies so clear

From a place of peace,

Right frame of mind

Anyone can hear

Would you know your worth

Right here on this earth

Or would you ever know your worth

Maybe if I know that all of the above

Was a self check for love

Because you can’t love nothing

Or no one else

Until you learn to love yourself

And all of life’s hard lessons

And falling down

Will reward you

With the answer

To the question

Would you know your worth

While on earth

Maybe you’ll know your worth

When you know your purpose first

Right here on this earth

No one can take it from you 

Not even you

You know how we do

You know what God can do

When you know your purpose on this earth

And you know your true value

Then you know how much you truly are worth

Here it is– the story of my life. I hope you enjoyed it. Answer this question each and every day. You’d be surprised how many people need to hear it. Thank you.

Anthony, 38

Anthony, 38

Stories

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Meet Anthony…

She told me I was a great writer and that my pen would get me out of the… pen.

Anthony, 38
Incarcerated: 20 years
Housed: San Quentin State Prison Death Row, San Quentin, California

I wrote and recorded my first song at 11. From there, I became passionate about my goal of one day being the best rapper. I worked hard to achieve that title, but I also worked  harder at the “gangster” half of the gangster rapper. It eventually ended my life as I knew it. I was in jail facing the death penalty at 25. There was a lot to unpack and adjust to. I had been arrested a lot, but never had to do a lot of time. The thought of having to go through a trial that was expected to take a few years was a lot. I had the pressure of having thrown my whole life and career away and the frustration of not being able to be the best father I could. I was just a young angry person with an F the world attitude.I met a guy who had been in jail since before I was born and was on appeal from death row. He helped me see that getting into it with the police all the time would only make my time harder. As he got me to calm down, we got to know each other and I would let him hear my raps. We would talk about life but he was the one who pushed me to get started on  writing my book. My paralegal who came to visit every week offered to make a copy for me. Instead of returning it, she gave it to my lawyers who decided, although it was fiction, there was too much of a criminal element which could possibly hurt me in trial. It took me two years to get the pages back. It took me forever to get back into the story and dive back into the characters and emotion. I finally finished the first draft, but that was only half the battle.

By this time, I had been sentenced to death and was at San Quentin. Publishing the book has been as hard as it was to write it, if not harder. It’s been a blessing in disguise because I got to learn this business. When I began this project it seemed like I was alone. I knew it would be a special someone that would help me execute this plan. Not long after I finished that first draft I met the lady who would later become my wife. She has been that special someone to help me with anything and everything, like making phone calls, copies, emails…Things that may seem insignificant until you need them done and don’t have any way to do it. I am extremely grateful to have her by my side every step of the way. Unfortunately tragedy has been the driving force to push me across the finish line. In 2020 I lost my great grandmother who was very dear to me and implored to continue writing. She told me I was a great writer, and that my pen would get me out of the… pen. I never could have imagined I would one day write a book. Recently. I lost my big cousin who was influential to me. She was a teacher and librarian and I know she would be very proud of me. I dedicate this to you.

Kaomang, 35

Kaomang, 35

Stories

Meet Kaomang…

I was born hearing for a short time and became deaf after I got sick. My mom was 14. I was born in Thailand and lived in a refugee camp in the mountains.

Kaomang, 35
Incarcerated: 21 years
Housed: San Quentin State Prison, California

I was born hearing for a short time and became deaf after I got sick. My mom was 14. I was born in Thailand and lived in a refugee camp in the mountains. There was a war at that time, so they brought all of us to America when I was nine months old. I have three brothers and three sisters that were all born in Richmond, California. I attended public school with a group of deaf students. The teachers were my full support system. They helped us because we all have struggles with the English language, our culture, and being deaf. My mom still hasn’t learned any English or sign language. So, she can’t communicate with me. I

have been struggling to communicate with her for years. I became frustrated because I need unconditional love from my siblings and I need someone to talk to. I always saw my parents commit domestic violence in front of all my brothers, sisters, and me. I thought it was normal. I got in a lot of trouble at home and in school. So they put me in eight different foster homes, and that made it worse because they also couldn’t communicate with me, no one knew sign language. It led me to more anger, violence, and emotional trauma. It led me to destructive behavior that caused me to harm someone, which led me to prison with a life sentence. It took me some time to make a change to be a better person. When I started to participate in a variety of self-help groups, it changed my attitude of violence to self-control. I learned a lot about my past mistakes and learned how to take control of my own life with a positive attitude. I thank God for blessing me every day and guiding me on the right path.

Greg, 49

Greg, 49

Stories

Meet Greg…

After the first bite, I was overwhelmed with emotions. I’m sitting at the table in a crowded chow hall with tears running down my face.

Greg, 49
Incarcerated: 27 years
Housed: San Quentin State Prison, California

I was really young when I moved to California and we lived right around the corner from her. Her home was my favorite place to be. The sun seemed to always shine on her house. She only had one daughter, so I was the son she never had. She truly adored me. I loved being in her house; there was an energy of love that wasn’t in my house. I remember helping her make sweet potato pies; my job was cutting up the sweet potatoes. It became one of my favorite things to do– help her make sweet potato pies. I remember when I was around seven and I was mad at my mother. I packed my bag,  ran away from home, and told my mother that I’d rather live with my auntie. She was a loving, beautiful, caring person. Her name was Ethel B, but we called her Aunt B. Even after I came to prison, we stayed in touch. She came to visit me a couple of times. But her health got worse and she couldn’t travel.

When she passed away recently, I was heartbroken after getting the news. I had a really hard time dealing with it; she was someone with whom I only had good memories. Also, there are no processes or opportunities for someone to grieve in prison. It’s hard. A few days after her passing, I went to dinner, and they were serving the prison’s favorite meal, chicken-on-the-bone. I grabbed my tray and noticed something strange on the tray. It looked like a sweet potato. I grabbed it and took a bite. It was in fact a sweet potato! After the first bite, I was overwhelmed with emotions. I’m sitting at the table in a crowded chow hall with tears running down my face. It reminded me of Aunt B. I closed my eyes and tasting the sweet potato took away all the pain. The taste brought back beautiful memories of her and her love for me, which got me through the grieving. It was the first time in 29 years that I saw a sweet potato being served in prison. I took it as a sign that Aunt B saw that I was struggling, and she sent me a message. ‘I got you, nephew.’ Instantly, I got better. I love you sweet potato pie! Rest in Paradise.

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