“I grew up in Mobile. My parents had nine kids, and three of us went to prison. The things we did reflected on my parents, and we humiliated the family name. We were talked about in the neighborhood, and by family members.

My parents loved us unconditionally, but there were so many of us, and we were all fighting for attention. I once had all of the attention, but my younger sisters and brother came along and I felt forgotten. I wanted to get that attention and love back and have things my way again. Each of us was spoiled at one point, but my parents were poor and only had so much to give.

The older kids fought for attention. We physically, mentally and emotionally abused one another, but we didn’t understand what we were seeking. We were all mad about something and it developed into hate. The youngest ones were always straight.

I went to prison at age 15 for burglary and robbery. I was in for 23 and a half years. I did three weeks in the ninth grade before I was incarcerated. I spent the end of my childhood and some of the best years of my life behind bars. I didn’t get a chance to experience the things that kids and young adults experience.

I blamed everybody else for my situation in prison. I didn’t blame myself until I got older and matured. I fought a lot and did some crazy things in my younger years, but I grew up and got tired of being locked up. I took vocational, anger, and stress-management classes. I got my GED and hoped to receive parole for good behavior. Instead, I was denied five times, with my family at every hearing.

It hurt me when they kept denying my probation and kept me in. But I saw guys released and returning as soon as they got out. Or they went free and were killed. I made a covenant with God that if I can’t do right, then don’t let me out. If I’m going to get out there and cause grief, pain and chaos, then don’t let me out until I’m ready. I would be denied parole and tell myself it wasn’t time yet. Maybe if they gave me a slap on the wrist, I would have gotten worse and never mended my ways. Maybe I wouldn’t be alive today. God has always been working. He knows how to take the ugliest situation and bring out the beauty.

The parole board finally voted in my favor. I was released on February 21, 2020, with tight restrictions. Walking out of that jail was like being raised from the dead and back to life. Everything felt different.

Prison was hell, and there was so much that wasn’t right. I’m in paradise now.

I am living with my parents to get back on my feet while I work and save money. I am far behind in trying to get a career becoming established. I don’t have kids and only know my family from a distance. I wasn’t the big brother that I should have been. My youngest sister still holds me accountable for not being there through some of her hard times. I am sorry I wasn’t there when she needed me.

I am just trying to get used to being out here in the world. After the pressure of prison, I don’t want to be confined or to lock anything. I want all doors and windows open.

There is a lot to unlearn. We only used plastic utensils in prison because metal ones could be used as weapons. I still have to use plastic utensils and cups and styrofoam plates, even if I have a good steak.

In prison, I showered with my boxers on so I could wash them out. They don’t do laundry every day, so we washed our clothes in the shower. I did that for the first few months after I got out, even though we had a washing machine. It was weird.

I take freedom one day at a time. My counselor has helped me so much. I report once a week to my parole officer and take a urine test. In the beginning, the structure, urine tests and good people working with me kept me straight and from going back with my old crowd. You have to get to those meetings with your parole officer, even if you have to walk. I have a car and give some guys a ride to help them out.

The court costs and fees can get the best of you. My restitution is $6,000. I am working and paying off mine, but it is a big stress and strain. I met some good guys in prison, some who are probably innocent and shouldn’t be in there. I try to help a few out and put money on their books.

I have to always think outside of the box. I don’t go to clubs or hang with anyone I used to know. I am antisocial and don’t deal with anyone who isn’t on the same line as me. Within the blink of an eye I could be at the wrong place at the wrong time. I am never going backwards again.

I have been on good behavior and they have given me some leeway. I got a pass to go to New Orleans for the weekend. It was the first time I left the state since I went to jail. It was a big deal to get that.

I just graduated from CDL school and have my license to be a truck driver. A job driving fits me right now. I want freedom to roam. Freedom to leave the state and one day the country. I have been confined for so long, I want to get out and see it all.

Getting into Ransom Reprogram taught me how to better life and how to open up, laugh, have fun, and even cry with others. I didn’t think this type of fellowship was possible where people are respectful and not trying to harm each other. Somebody has your back and is pushing you forward in the right direction. You don’t get much of that in prison, except from the people outside who try to come in and show they care.

My goal is to re-enter the prison walls and do ministry. I want to help give them hope, even if they are in for life. There are things they can change about themselves that will make things a little easier. You can learn to laugh a little more and make the best of your situation, regardless of where you are.

People are surprised when they find out I went to prison and for how long. I don’t talk much about my past because talking about those years is reliving them. I want to focus on the future and learn what it’s like to be free.”