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Moonshadow, 43

Moonshadow, 43

Stories

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Meet Moonshadow…

That day taught me three things. It really is the thought that counts. Always be creative. A simple act of love and caring can bring a smile to another person.

Moonshadow, 43
Incarcerated: 26 years
Housed: Valley State Prison, Chowchilla, CA

I remember it being a hot summer day when my grandmother, my mom, and I were driving home from the store. I was around six and full of energy. That all changed when a tow-truck hit us from behind when we stopped at a light. My mother was hospitalized and I was placed in the care of my grandparents. That began six months of hell as I was forced to eat off of and sleep on the floor like a dog. I wasn’t even allowed hot water. The only thing that kept me sane was the thought of being back with my mom. Finally, my mom was allowed weekend visits with me. One particular weekend it was her birthday and I wanted to do something special for her. She always told me, “You’re not allowed to use the stove, no matter what.” So, I decided to get creative. I cracked some eggs, opened some hash browns and bacon, and poured a glass of orange juice. I covered it all up and ran to get my mom. To her surprise, she walked into the kitchen and there was a tablecloth on the floor. She lifted it up to find raw cracked eggs, raw bacon, and raw hash browns and a glass of orange juice on the floor. I didn’t even use a plate. “Happy Birthday Mom! I didn’t use the stove.” She looked back and forth between the mess and me. I really thought that she was going to be mad. She just shook her head and smiled. She gave me the biggest hug and told me that she loved me. That day taught me three things. It really is the thought that counts. Always be creative. A simple act of love and caring can bring a smile to another person. I carry this with me every day in life with the hope of bringing a smile to everyone that I meet. Rest in peace Mom… I love you too.

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.

Samantha, 30

Samantha, 30

Stories

Meet Samantha…

Being covered in blood and bruises was “normal,” but my boyfriend had beaten me to the point that I miscarried our baby.

Samantha, 30
Incarcerated: 1 year
Housed: La Vista Correctional Facility, Pueblo, Colorado

I was going to college for mortuary science when I met a guy. We had a very toxic relationship involving drugs and domestic violence. In February of 2013,  I woke up in my backyard in the worst pain I’ve ever experienced. Being covered in blood and bruises was “normal,” but my boyfriend had beaten me to the point that I miscarried our baby. A part of me was thankful that I wasn’t going to be stuck with him forever. After I recovered, I left. I got a restraining order. I moved to another town. I got a job and was doing fine until he showed up at my job and wouldn’t leave. Countless times he would be removed in handcuffs and eventually I was let go due to the unwanted attention it was bringing to the store.

I moved a couple more times and changed my number. I didn’t feel I was able to get a job since he was stalking me. I was in the kitchen at a friend’s house when he showed up and started throwing me around. I got free from his grasp and locked myself in the bathroom. I crawled out the window and ran down the street to the first car I saw. Driving was a 52 year old man. I asked for a ride anywhere. Here most 22 year old girls would be nervous getting in the car with a stranger, but I was willing to take the risk. I came to Colorado with him. He let me stay in a spare room, helped me get in contact with my parole officer and get my legal stuff taken care of. He brought me back to Oregon to do a jail sentence for absconding, then picked me up and came back to Colorado where he helped me get a job and get back on my feet. 

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