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Christine, 44

Christine, 44

Stories

Meet Christine…

…As the years have gone by, I know with more and more certainty that the state of Texas is what God used to discipline my stubborn butt. I needed correction and humility. I also needed healing mentally, emotionally and spiritually.

Incarcerated: 9 years
Housed: Hilltop Unit-Trustee Camp, Gatesville, Texas

I was a college student working at Goodwill and trying to make it after divorcing my husband. I know now that I shouldn’t have given up on my marriage so fast, but some things become clearer with hindsight. It felt like my life was over. I was given a 20 year aggravated sentence and had to serve at least half before I could see parole for the first time. I wouldn’t be going anywhere until I was at least 45 years old. The worst part, I was leaving my three kids, Mathew (9), Luke (4), and Sofia (2). I’m not there to raise them. I decided years ago not to let the circumstances of my charge make me bitter. Instead I am using this time to make myself better. I’ve stayed positive, took every self-help class offered, earned an associate’s degree and now I’m in truck driving class to get my CDL. Quite literally, it’s been a wild ride recently. I’ve formed a strong bond with my fellow CDL classmates and we help one another, build one another up rather than tearing each other down. We teach the new girls as they come in by giving them helpful hints and tips that our teacher may not think of. I’ll admit…I practically hated the state of Texas at first – as I was done very dirty by the prosecution. As the years have gone by, I know with more and more certainty that the state of Texas is what God used to discipline my stubborn butt. I needed correction and humility. I also needed healing mentally, emotionally and spiritually. I’m so much better that I was before, no more brokenness. And now I’m sober to boot. My life isn’t over. I was wrong. It’s just beginning. One more year of prison, then I can go home. But I’ve been “free” for five years now. Praise God. 📸

 

Wayne, 63

Wayne, 63

Stories

Meet Wayne…

…The difference of the last couple weeks is just crazy! I’m unloading on you because you’re the only one I’ve got. I’m working on a Tree of Life to share with you. 

 

Incarcerated: 17 yrs

Yesterday, I saw my doctor who told me that my second surgery gave answers as to why I wasn’t healing from my first surgery. I have cancer.

I went in for a routine hemorrhoid surgery. Four months later I was still bleeding and the operation site hadn’t healed. I’d wake up in the morning and have to ‘bird-bath’ to wash the blood off me. I bled in the night and cleaned my boxers. Medical issued me mat coverings to keep the blood out of my sheets. I was hopeful it would end. But no. Month after month I’m still washing my boxers, when I wake, at noon, dinner time, and before bed. Everyday for the last four and a half months.

Finally, I was called back to medical and found out, what they cut out of me was a polyp, not a hemorrhoid. The reason I wasn’t healing is that this little piece of cancer was spreading. Now, there’s three masses on my liver. On top of that I fell-out on the way to chow. The doctors think it was a mini-stroke. But thankfully that’s how they found the masses on my liver.

We caught it early, I hope. I’ll know when I meet my cancer team at Marin General Hospital. Hopefully, the next round of testing will be contained to the colon and liver. The difference of the last couple of weeks is just crazy! I’m unloading on you because you’re the only one I’ve got. I’m working on a Tree of Life to share with you. I’m all over the place right now, kinda scatterbrained.

Me and the world aren’t on speaking terms….In my life I stopped getting personal mail, like yours when my mother passed away. I was gonna say five, six or seven years ago… I’m not really sure about time…. I have nothing to reference events to. Someone caring and believing what I’m saying stopped happening when I made it to prison.

Thank you Humans of San Quentin.

 

Christopher, 39

Christopher, 39

Stories

Meet Christopher…

…When a prisoner is sentenced there is another reality attached to it. The reality that their family and friends will do the time with them. You will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory, stay strong.”

Incarcerated: 18 years
Housed: New Jersey State Prison, Trenton

I was 19 years old and convicted of a robbery and weapons charges. The judge sentenced me to time greater than my mother’s age. Sixty years with a mandatory minimum of 85 percent. I have since served 18 years. Upon arriving in prison my daughter was only three. She is now 21 and has grown up without a father.

Unfortunately, when a prisoner is sentenced there is another reality attached to it. The reality that their family and friends will do the time with them. I miss when my mother used to call me asking to bring her to work, seeing my mom’s beautiful smile would make my day. It’s the small things in life that I miss so much, like watching my daughter grow up to be the beautiful woman she is today. I am grateful for my family and everything they have sacrificed to help me.

We all need a second chance at life to be a father, husband and son. I don’t think someone needs to die in prison for their past mistakes. I have since involved myself in many positive endeavors. Since the beginning of my incarceration, I have made countless efforts to rehabilitate by completing a number of programs. Yet, the state rather keeps us inside of a cell for 23 hours a day doing nothing. How does that help us?

The fact is, poverty is what led me to prison and the world needs to know that poverty is a crime. For now, my family and daughter bring me comfort. This is what still gets me through each day. By standing firm with my faith there is always hope. Finally, you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory, so always stay strong. 📸 Christopher’s

Jorge, 37

Jorge, 37

Stories

Meet Jorge…

…We always want to help when we get out, but we forget that we can help in here, like Edwin and Miguel are doing in our society in here. A lot of us don’t know how to do it and express what we are going through and need help to get it out into the world and change the image that is given to us.

Incarcerated: 21 years

Even though we have our ups and downs, I love that I was named after him, and I would name my son Jorge too if my wife is ok with it. We plan to have a baby at our next family visit…

Everything started in Juvenile Hall when I was arrested at age 16. I was not good at reading and writing, not even in Spanish. I remember I had a stack of letters from my mom in Spanish and I felt so bad I couldn’t read them. I got past my pride and asked the staff to help me read them. She started crying and I didn’t know how to react. I thought I did something wrong. She told me she would teach me to read and write, that I should have told her a long time ago, but I was prideful and I didn’t want people to know. I let my mom know, and she looked at me with a blank stare, like she thought I did know how to read and write in Spanish, at least. She just couldn’t believe it. She told me to do her a favor, “If you can draw me a happy face if you are happy or a sad face if you are sad, hearts and send it in the mail. So I know you’re ok. That’s how it all started, by doing small things for her. She inspired me to draw and all I wanted to do is keep her happy. As long as it put a smile on her face, I was willing to do it.

I got better at drawing roses and religious stuff like crosses. Early on I did a gangster praying to a virgin that turned out chubby because of the roses around her. In the drawing with the mask baby, I use crayons and mainly charcoal. I love charcoal – most of my drawings are in charcoal. I drew that as a message for people to get vaccinated and don’t be selfish because the next generation is going to be taking care of the aftermath. I understand people have their reason if they don’t take it, everybody has the right to do what they want, but I think it is the right thing to do.

We all have our moment in time when we can change, like a click. You hope it comes before you’re a wreck. We always want to help when we get out, but we forget that we can help in here, like Edwin and Miguel are doing in our society in here. A lot of us don’t know how to do it and express what we are going through and need help to get it out into the world and change the image that is given to us.

WHAT WOULD YOU SAY TO SOMEONE TO IDENTIFY YOURSELF?

I am a humble and caring person, and when it comes down to family, they’re my number one. I love my family.

I like to be judged by my actions instead of the way I look. I’m a son, a brother, and a husband. When you start speaking to people, you see that we have potential, in a lot of different ways.

It’s hard for people to approach me even here because of the tattoos I have on my face and the way I look. I’ve heard the same thing from others who are blasted (tattooed) like me. Even here, getting hired for a new job in prison-like I did in the hospital, we get attention, like we are up to no good somehow, and stand out like a troublemaker. They think, “Let’s see how long you last here.”

I take pride in what I do and my coworkers see that. We work our hours and get to interact with people from society. There are not a lot of jobs like that in prison. Who would have thought you would be in an elevator with people from society? I thought we’d be treated differently…

Robert, 41

Robert, 41

Stories

Meet Robert…

…Jennifer Lackey, a philosophy professor at Northwestern University, introduced a values class at the prison which I pursued. She told me to apply. I was accepted to something that would transform my life. My first true college course wasn’t easy because her expectations didn’t allow for less because of my situation, so I responded accordingly. 

incarcerated: 24
Housed: Stateville Correctional Center, Joliet, Illinois

A few years ago while running the yard I saw my economics teacher going towards the educational building. She was with a female visitor, being intrigued I made my way to them. I was informed that her name was Jennifer Lackey and a philosophy professor at Northwestern University. She was introducing a values class at the prison which I pursued. She told me to apply.

I was accepted to something that would transform my life. My first true college course wasn’t easy because her expectations didn’t allow for less because of my situation, so I responded accordingly. Upon completion of the class we were supposed to take her mass-incarceration class, but that got put on hold for something far more beautiful.

She informed us that Northwestern would sponsor her plan for a degree program here at the institution, and her current class would be given priority for applications. After the application process and being formally accepted to Northwestern Prison Educational Program, I have obtained my associate’s degree from Oakland Community College, and I am currently a bachelor’s degree candidate. Through her will to see those that were less fortunate given a chance, I’m one of twenty-one individuals destined for greater things.

I have also used this time to get my barber’s license as well. The growth I’ve chosen to pursue was made possible with the aid and compassion of others, those that have chosen to see more than my circumstances, like the opportunities and possibilities of hope with a little help. So many are responsible for the clarity with which I now see. So thank you all. 📸

 

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