Lucky

The last thing I want is for my readers to think that the system works.

I was provided with opportunities.

I took them.

I was released from prison in November 2015.

Despite getting out and regaining my liberty, I was now faced with reality. I was broke, had no marketable skills, no support (family, community, financial, emotional, moral, etc). I had 30 days paid for me to live in a halfway house, no clothes, no I.D., no cell phone. I was broken, depressed, stressed, lost, ambitious, with my back against the wall.

I was unprepared after being warehoused by the Nevada Department of Corrections.

The system doesn’t work!

Since my current incarceration, I’ve spent a lot of time writing, emailing and sending inbox messages on social media to prosecutors, prison officials, journalists, reporters, community organizers, editors, law enforcement, celebrities, athletes, actors/actresses, filmmakers, judges, parole and probation, past inmates of the NDOC and authors. Past inmates, aka returning citizens, which is what I call released inmates because that’s what we are. We’re not ex-convicts and we’re not parolees, because those negative words make it okay for people to treat us worse than others. We are returning citizens who have served our time, paid the required price, and earned the same right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, as everyone else.

What’s become clear to me, over the years, is that I was lucky. I was lucky to be sent back to prison instead of losing my life to the streets. The way that I had been living, that was to be expected.

I was lucky to find myself and figure out what my true purpose was in life.

I was lucky to receive a lengthy sentence that didn’t mean I had life (I have a chance at regaining my freedom).

Why prove to you that I could have learned my mistake from my first incarceration? Society’s only goal was to punish me, and when I was released from prison, the system’s every action was designed to take away my already few chances to succeed.

Now you may ask, “How can we create more opportunities for returning citizens in Nevada?”

I say, “It’s simple. The communities of Nevada has to want to mentor incarcerated adults while they’re incarcerated and upon release.

We then have to have a system that cares about rehabilitation. That’s where our system is broken, in my mind, even more than sentencing.

I know this is controversial, but I’m okay with long sentences for young adults with a rap sheet like mine. I mean, thirty, forty years, not life. But lost young adults need a shock. They need to get crushed. But they also need a way out because we don’t need any more lengthy prison sentences with no chance of release.

Everyone should be given the opportunity to earn time off from their front-number in Nevada. (In Nevada, you’re given three dates – your parole eligibility date, your mandatory parole eligibility date and your expiration date, only allowing violent offenders to earn time from their mandatory and expiration date).

There are near to one hundred individuals in Nevada who are fundamentally good, incorrectly sentenced and trapped in the system, who are written off and forgotten.

Give the young and wild thirty – but with a real chance to reduce that time for good behaviour. Tell them, “We’re taking the best years of your life, but we’ll give them back if you earn them. As soon as you are rehabilitated, we’ll let you out.”

Why take away the reward for becoming a better human being? Why take away hope? Hope powers change. Would you work as hard at your job if your boss said, “Look, you’ll never be promoted. You’ll never make more money. You’re going to sit in this cubicle, no matter how well or poorly you perform, for the rest of your life. From here on out, nothing you do matters.”

Why prove to us, the incarcerated, that the system doesn’t care if we change? That we are not wanted back? That society’s only goal is punishment, and every action is designed to take away our already few chances to succeed. Does that seem too generous? Well, in my experience, it takes three years to adjust to prison and five years of work, minimum, to truly reform. So, everyone will serve at least eight years, and I’d guess even the best men and women will serve ten.

Still too generous? Well, I’ll get Socratic on that with you, because I know my system will be cheaper, reduce the violence on our streets, and end recidivism as we know it.

But only if we’re truly committed. If we truly stop focusing on punishment before all else. If we truly see every man and woman put into prison, not as a waste and an expense (or profit maker), but as an opportunity.

We need a system that identifies good people in prison and rewards them for their efforts. We are watched inside twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. You seriously think those watchers can’t figure out who’s made a sincere change and who’s doing the work?

We need to get rid of the “life means life” rule and all the arbitrary deadlines that keep good people locked up on technicalities and let everyone who has earned their freedom, achieve their freedom.

People in prison have the potential to achieve great things. I’m not talking about working minimum-wage jobs, although those are important. A hard worker is a positive example and a pillar in a community. I’m talking about entrepreneurs, executives and artists. I’m saying we can turn prison into a success factory. We have the information, the infrastructure and the human potential. All we need is the desire.

You think that’s the way the system works now? You think my story is proof?

They didn’t want to pay me to work. They didn’t want to train me. They didn’t want to give me marketable skills. They didn’t provide me with secure housing for 6 – 12 months. They didn’t provide me with an I.D. The community didn’t welcome me home with open arms. They didn’t reward me. They didn’t want me to succeed. They didn’t even want to let me out.

I’m talking about the politicians. I’m talking about the people who knew me best – the administration at High Desert State Prison and Lovelock Correctional Center.