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Kunta, 28

Kunta, 28

Stories

Kunta, 28

Meet Kunta…

At first, I didn’t even notice that I was easing the hurt from my soul. Even though I am not fully healed, I have come a long way and I am doing a whole lot better. So, I continue to write, healing my soul.

Incarcerated: 10 years

Housed: San Quentin State Prison

I’ve been locked up since I was sixteen. In the beginning, I really struggled because I didn’t know how to verbally express myself. I would be drowning on the inside because of all of the words and feelings that I wasn’t expressing. One night in my cell, I started writing poetry. The next day, I let my brother read it and he liked it, which inspired me to keep writing. This was ten years ago. At first, I didn’t even notice that I was easing the hurt from my soul. Even though I am not fully healed, I have come a long way and I am doing a whole lot better. So, I continue to write, healing my soul. Hopefully, in the process, I am able to help heal a little of the world’s pain through my words. Because of my poems, my words are my truest and sincerest feelings – my worries, my hurts, my depression. I share openly with you, all in hopes of letting you know that you are not alone in this world because I am out here with you in spirit.

 

“Depressed State of Mind”

Running from my reality

On the brink of losing my sanity

Carrying the world on my shoulders

An’ yet they are still mad at me

 

Quite often I’m neglected

Soul in a constant state of depression

In a head-on collision with rejection

 

I’m breaking mirrors

Can you speak louder so the message will be clearer

Voices yelling in my head

And I still can’t hear ya

 

Thoughts of suicide

So why should I fear ya

I’m drowning in despair

Agony filling my lungs

 

So there’s no air

No hope of breathin’

Got me afraid of sleeping

Because all I see is demons

 

Fighting to devour my soul

Feels like I’m losing control

My body holding on and my soul still letting go

My heart beatin’ hectic

 

I was born dead

So tell God my body

He can come collect it

Dale, 68

Stories

Meet Dale…

If you had told me ten years earlier I would be a nurse maid to critters and birds, I would have laughed. I never thought I would get attached to a bird and I’ve loved every minute.

Incarcerated: 33 years
Housed: Marion Correctional Facility, Ohio

Since the age of 19, I’ve only been free a couple years. I turned 68 this year. I’ve been locked up due to drugs and alcohol. A classic case of stupid. I will start by telling you about my turn around from screw-up to avoiding trouble. I haven’t had an infraction in prison since 1997, no fights, no dope. Now here’s how I turned around. In ‘97 I hit rock bottom and was out of weed. There was a thunderstorm, lightning and wind on the compound. I was eight years in and feeling lost, unloved and full of anger. I crawled out a window and yelled at God. I dared Him to put a bolt of lightning in my chest. I cried, shook and snot ran like a river out my nose. I made up my mind to end my life. I started to sort my property, one pile to send home, one to throw out. I came across the bible I earned in summer bible school at the church. It was like a voice came to me to write the preacher back home. It took two weeks before I got an answer. He said, “Dale Jesus forgave you, you need to forgive yourself.” I gave my life to Jesus and with his help I have changed my attitude and ways. My craving for drugs and alcohol went away. I’ve done dozens of bible studies by mail over the past 25 years and took on the attitude of learning and bettering myself. I was transferred to Mansfield Correctional and was accepted into the dog training program. My friend, Tony, was in the wild life bird program and he wrote and told me about it. I put in for a transfer and went to Marion where Tony got me into the wild life bird program. He was a good teacher and mentor. Sadly, he died of cancer after just five months of us working together. If you had told me ten years earlier I would be a nurse maid to critters and birds, I would have laughed. I never thought I would get attached to a bird and I’ve loved every minute. I’ve learned to care and love again and start my adventure into learning instead of losing. In my mind, I rock the baby birds and think of my daughter and my grandkids, whom I never got to hold or rock.

LaQuinton, 35

Stories

Meet LaQuinton…

It has taken me 22 years, to wake up, and see the streets are not for me. All I’ve done to myself, is mess it up. You ask where am I going with this? I say all of this because it take me a long time to wake up and see that bad roads only lead to worse roads.

Incarcerated: 3 years
Housed: Sacramento, California
One day I woke up in the hole and started praying to God. I prayed and told God, “All my life I tried to do things my way, and now look at where I am.” I told God that I am ready to do his will and that I want to be a leader. I then asked, “Who am I going to lead?” In order to be a great leader you have to be a great follower. So I finished praying and started cleaning my cell, and heard from God. He told me “You’ve always been a leader you just followed the wrong people.” There comes a time in a man’s life where he realizes – when he was a child, he acted like a child. Now as a 35 year old man, it’s time to act like one and put childish things away. My whole life, I made bad decisions going down the wrong road. I started gangbanging, smoking and drinking at 12. I have robbed, been robbed, shot and been shot. Been to different states and sold drugs. I have pimped women. You can say I have done it all. Now look at where my life has taken me – to prison, in the hole, for a knife. Not once in the 22 years I’ve been on that road, have I given God a chance. It has taken me 22 years, to wake up, and see the streets are not for me. All I’ve done to myself, is mess it up. You ask where am I going with this? I say all of this because it take me a long time to wake up and see that bad roads only lead to worse roads. But if I put my trust in a higher power, the sky is the limit. I’ve missed out on my kids lives. Many things I can not get back in life. Cars, house, money, love and trust, but time you can’t get back. So I ask who ever reads this, please let someone you know that’s on a bad road – its not going to work out the way they think. Remember God is love and love conquers all.

Robert, 63

Robert, 63

Stories

Meet Robert…

 The walls were stained with every substance imaginable. The peeling point was a sad testament to the hopelessness and despair etched on the faces of the few men who stirred from their curtained bunks to check out the new guy.

Incarcerated: 23 years

Housed: California Men’s Colony, Vacaville 

I was taken to the hospital for surgery. Then transferred to the California Medical Facility in Vacaville to recover. I learned how to walk again, to climb stairs. I participated in physical therapy with zeal. Two doctors stating only a small percentage of their patients had my mobility and agility. I pushed through the pain of therapy, so I could hurry back to San Quentin where my life was. I requested an early discharge, he agreed, filed the discharge papers, then the bottom fell out from under me. SQ wouldn’t take me back since I was assigned a wheelchair, a walker and a cane even though I didn’t need them. The doctor corrected the paperwork saying I had no need of any mobility device and I waited, and waited. I was in a filthy hospital dorm with 12 people. Three were under palliative care and in their last throes of a very agonizing farewell. I expected to see my transportation officers appear at any moment. Three days later I was told to pack up what meager property I had. I was being moved to “the mainline” of Vacaville — what! I was taken to a cellblock which consisted of a long hallway with five locked dorms on either side. The noise and smell are what assaulted my senses right off. Music was playing, men were screaming at one another while others gathered in small groups. The smell permeated everything. The shower was releasing billowing steam infused with antiseptic fluid used to spray the walls. Dirt was deep in the walls with ancient food stains, it made for a very moist and dilapidated environment. The officer unlocked the dorm to my new residence, he pointed to an empty bunk and gravely announced that it was mine, then promptly left. Musty cardboard boxes were stacked haphazardly in the dusty corners. The walls were stained with every substance imaginable. The peeling point was a sad testament to the hopelessness and despair etched on the faces of the few men who stirred from their curtained bunks to check out the new guy. Two days later, I asked the floor officer to please check when SQ was coming for me. He called someone and told me I was staying. I was stunned. What? I have nothing here! No life, no friends, my parole packet, typewriter, no personal belongings. All my stuff was stored at ‘Quentin before I left where it will stay until further notice. The fellows here are different from the ones I know in SQ. They are predisposed to violence and criminality. At 64, I can easily be pulled into violence, as an innocent, labeled as a collateral participant. Most get high every chance they get. My life and worldview has changed from criminal to returning citizen. This is a scary place for me.

John, 40

John, 40

Stories

John, 40

Meet John…

 I wanted something better. I wanted to go home. I realized I wasn’t worth anything doing bad. I embarked on a journey of transformation. I took control of my life and destiny.

Incarcerated: 23 years

Housed: San Quentin State Prison

She was a teen mom, raising me in poverty. I didn’t feel life’s hardships until I was teen. My grandmother, who loved me dearly, passed away. My dad was already in prison. My step dad was known for the biggest drug bust of all time and earned a long prison sentence. After his arrest, my family endured a lot of pain. I tried to stay out of trouble by going to school, working and playing ball, while all my friends went to the California Youth Authority. In the hood, there was nothing but devastation, poverty, prostitution, drugs, gangs, domestic violence and corruption. I ignored it, not knowing how to ask for help. I turned to the gang lifestyle, fast money, not thinking this abuse was an addiction and would become my norm. One day my life spiraled out of control. I shot and killed a human being. I was given a 57 to life sentence for murder. In prison, I continued to live the gang lifestyle. I landed in the notorious Pelican Bay State Prison. The gang culture was deep, violence, riots, stabbing and killings was the norm.  After 12 years, I woke up and saw I was destroying myself and realized the harm I was inflicting on people and my family. I wanted something better. I wanted  to go home. I realized I wasn’t worth anything doing bad. I embarked on a journey of transformation. I took control of my life and destiny. I stopped killing the authentic me by committing violence. I attended self-help classes, I identify my character defects and warped belief systems. I changed my thinking, reactions and habits. Positivity became second nature. I earned a college degree, completed vocational trainings, and have been disciplinary free. After taking parenting and family relation classes, I began to build better relationships. I was grateful and surprised by their encouragement and pride in me. Instead of being leary or worried, they can’t wait for me to come home, if God wants. In the process of this journey, my release date changed. I qualified under Senate Bill 260 & 261 as a youth offender.  go to the parole board next year. I am optimistic and hopeful. I contribute my success and change to those whom I owe amends. 

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