This is from a letter exchange between men at San Quentin State Prison in California and students at Miami Youth Academy, which houses up to 28 boys from 14 to 18 years old, who are sent there by the Florida Department of Juvenile Justice.
Change is a process. It comes in a series of moments or events. I entered prison at the age of 19 with a gang mentality. I was still associating with a crowd of friends, until one day I was on my way to another unit to get my face and neck tattooed. This was in the 90s, where you had to earn your tattoos.
I was on my way to get my tats, when an older prisoner, who I didn’t know but had seen in the yard, approached me.
“Hey, youngster,” he said. “You look smart, if I give you a book, would you read it?”
Reluctantly, I said yes. He was a smart and strong brother, so I trusted him and he gave me the book “Enemies: The Clash of Races” by Haki Madhubuti. The title grabbed my attention and changed my life forever. The book was about how social injustices can shape you and your environment and provided solutions on how to redevelop your mind to help your family and loved ones.
It didn’t change my association with the gang, but it did stop me from making the second biggest mistake of my life: having my face and neck tattooed. It would take me close to two more years before I would break with my associates and friends, but I found myself in the prison library more and more, reading philosophy, history and culture from Immanuel Kant, Howard Zinn and Plato.
One day, I was coming from work in the prison kitchen, when I saw a sea of my homeboys and so-called enemies — over 150 men — about to have a mass riot in the middle of the yard.
I stopped and asked one of my partners what was happening. He said he didn’t know, but they were just going to get it on. I asked two more of my partners what was happening and they said they didn’t know either, but they were just going out there.
I said, “Wait, let me go talk to the other guys to see what’s happening, because a lot of people are about to get hurt.” By “the other guys,” I was referring to my so-called enemies.
I went to talk to one of their main guys and I asked what was going on and what this was all about — and to my surprise, he didn’t know. I knew that we supposedly didn’t like each other, but this was crazy.
By the time we investigated what happened, we realized that it started with one of our guys shooting dice with one of their guys. They had gotten into an argument over a point and a dispute about our guy owing the other one money.
I asked how much, and he said a can of tuna. I was blown away. Somebody could have died out here over a can of tuna and nobody even thought to ask what was going on. I told them I had tuna and I paid the debt. I told my partners never to call me out there again and that was the day I broke my gang mentality.
That book saved my life. Not only did it teach me that I had to do better for me, but I had to do better for them and my family. That day, I learned responsibility.
Republish this article
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
Here are our ground rules:
- You must credit Prison Journalism Project. In the byline, we prefer “[Author Name], Prison Journalism Project.” At the top of the text of your story, please include a line that says: “This story was originally published by Prison Journalism Project” and include a link to the article.
- No republishing of photographs, illustrations or graphics without specific permission. Please contact inquiries@prisonjournalismproject.org.
- No editing the content, including the headline, except to reflect changes in time, location and editorial style. For example, changing, “today” to “last week,” or San Quentin to San Quentin, California. You can also make minor revisions for style or headline size, and you can trim stories for space. You must also retain all original hyperlinks, including links to the Prison Journalism Project newsletters.
- No translation of our stories into another language without specific permission. Please contact inquiries@prisonjournalismproject.org.
- No selling ads against our stories, but you can publish it on a page with ads that you’ve already sold.
- No reselling or syndicating our stories, including on platforms or apps like Apple News or Google News. You also can’t republish our work automatically or all at once. Please select them individually.
- No scraping our website or using our stories to populate websites designed to improve search rankings or gain revenue from network-based advertisements.
- Any site our stories appear on must have a prominent and effective way to contact you.
- If we send you a request to remove our story, you must do so immediately.
- If you share republished stories on social media, please tag Prison Journalism Project. We have official accounts on Twitter (@prisonjourn), Facebook (@prisonjournalism), Instagram (@prisonjournalism) and Linked In.
- Let us know when you share the story. Send us a note, so we can keep track.