When my judge imposed a 45-year prison term I was 23. At the time, I could not wrap my mind around the severity of the sentence. I had never been confined before, and contemplating the reality that I would serve several decades was surreal. Other prisoners with whom I shared space were serving sentences that were only a fraction of the length of mine. Some of those men had long histories of incarceration, violence, and were unrepentant. I was confined with one school teacher who was sentenced to five years for molesting several young boys. In comparison to those terms, I then felt as if my sentence was absurd, as if there was no way justice would permit my imprisonment for multiple decades. By then I did not have much hope of relief through the judicial system, so I chose to focus on the first ten years. During that first decade, I felt as if the best use of my time would be in educating myself and striving to create opportunities that would prepare me for release.

I studied through courses that would lead to university degrees. As I read more about social philosophy, I discovered the writings of Socrates, Rousseau, and others who helped me understand more about the social platforms on which societies are built. Rather than lamenting on the lengthy sentence I received, I decided to accept that I would serve a long time in prison. Once I accepted that I likely would serve more than 20 years of my life in prison, I could more easily contemplate ways that I could use my situation to make contributions to society. That shift in focus eliminated thoughts about whether justice was achieved in my case, and enabled me to find meaning through thoughts and actions. The shift empowered me.

Justice, I came to realize, represented the will of our citizens through the laws and procedures that elected representatives passed. Lawmakers decided that lengthy sentences were appropriate for nonviolent drug offenders, and the citizens apparently supported those views. My decisions exposed me to the sanctions. Likewise, the decisions I made while serving time would determine my usefulness as a citizen. I chose to prepare myself to live as a model that my bolster my power to persuade taxpaying citizens that the criminal justice system is in need of reform. If I succeed in these efforts, then I will have made a meaningful contribution to society. I will have helped our criminal justice system evolve into a more enlightened model that is more in line with my interpretation of justice.

I will continue working to reform our system, as these efforts offer an opportunity for me to make a meaningful contribution.

The post Was My 45-Year Prison Sentence Just? appeared first on Prison News Blog.

A few years after graduating from Shorecrest high school, I joined a friend in a scheme to distribute cocaine. As I was, my friend was also the son of small business owners. Neither of us were without opportunities, yet we chose to venture into a lifestyle that we believed would bring excitement to our lives. At the time, popular culture was influencing young minds with the glamor of cocaine trafficking. We mistakenly believed that we could profit quickly and substantially without exposing ourselves to risks that we couldn’t control. Neither of us had experienced the wrath of the criminal justice system before, and we failed to appreciate the severity with which we would be judged.

Between 1985 and 1987, I presided over a scheme to purchase cocaine in Miami. Other friends from high school would transport the cocaine to Seattle, and my partner would distribute the cocaine to clients we had cultivated. All of the relationships were with consenting adults, and neither weapons nor violence played a part in our operation. Nevertheless, we now recognize that violence plays a role in many drug crimes.

As a consequence of my decisions, I was charged with numerous crimes related to drug trafficking. After being convicted, my judge imposed a 45-year prison term. I began serving my sentence inside the high walls of a United States Penitentiary with a few thousand high-security prisoners. The laws under which I was convicted offer opportunities to earn time off for serving my sentence without disciplinary infractions. I expect to serve about 25 years on my sentence before I will be released from prison.

As of this entry, I have more than 21 years of prison behind me. My focus has always been on preparing for the life I want to lead upon release. To that end, I have built a record that shows my commitment to reconciling with society. I worked to educate myself and to contribute to society in every way possible. The total focus I have made has enabled me to avoid confrontation and altercation with both prisoners and staff. I feel proud of the way that I have responded to the problems I created, yet still humiliated by the bad decisions I made as a young man – the decisions that led me to prison.

My belief has always been that the length of my sentence was too long and that it served no useful purpose for society. Despite those personal beliefs, I have done my best to serve the sanction with dignity. I look forward to my return to society and the opportunities that will open for me to contribute.

The post Seduced by the Glamor of Cocaine, I Deserved a Prison Sentence appeared first on Prison News Blog.

I felt surprise at the shift in emotions. My imprisonment began in 1987, more than 21 years ago. I began serving the sentence when I was 23, and I have nearly crossed the fulcrum that would disperse the greater weight of my life in prison than in society. This term has been my only period of confinement and I have no history of violence. For the most part, I have grown numb to the boundaries that surround me, and the stigma of my predicament. Prison has been my life.

From the beginning, I have worked hard and consistently to reconcile with society for the bad decisions I made as a younger man. During the early years of my sentence, I lived with the idealism that I could earn my freedom through merit. With that goal as my beacon, I worked for years to educate myself, to contribute to society, and to prepare in every way so that I could emerge from confinement as a contributing citizen.

When Bill Clinton won the White House, I naively clung to the beam of his campaign. Slightly more than five years had passed since steel gates locked me inside prison walls. By then I had earned an undergraduate degree and was enrolled in graduate school. With dreams that my transformative adjustment would influence a favorable decision, I submitted my first petition for clemency.

In 1995, Hofstra University awarded my Masters Degree and I was beginning a PhD program at the University of Connecticut. I was 31-years-old, and well educated. After more than eight years of prison, I felt as ready as possible to begin living in society as a law-abiding, tax-paying citizen. In 1996, however, my prison case manager delivered a terse statement from the Department of Justice. For reasons that did not merit an explanation or review, my petition for clemency had been denied.

With the beginning of my second decade in prison, I resolved myself to the reality that I would serve several more years. The new Congress, led by Newt Gingrich, passed more punitive legislation. The hope for relief that carried me through my first decade vanished. I settled in to the likelihood that I would serve longer than a quarter century in federal prison.

In letting go of dreams that I could somehow influence the advancement of my release date, I had to change my adjustment pattern. I committed to the pursuit of activities that might bring meaning to my life while I served a lengthy prison term. In some way, I hoped my work would contribute to society.

With help from mentors, I worked to develop writing skills. Those efforts comforted me through my solitude. Simultaneously, writing offered opportunities to help others understand prisons, the people they held, and strategies to grow through confinement.

Since that adjustment shift, I have come to accept my imprisonment. I passed through all of the Clinton years, and now we have come to the final days of the Bush years. With so much prison behind me, I believed myself immune to the disease of despondency. Yet when I read that President Bush had commuted the prison terms of two others, I felt a terrific sense of loss.

I called my wife, who has endured nearly 10 years of this journey beside me. She had not yet heard the news of the commutations. I asked her to research the prisoners whose terms had been cut. I wanted to know if they had done more to earn freedom. Carole, as always, expressed her unyielding support. She could sense my sadness and offered her characteristic encouragement to lift my spirits.

“Your release will be much more magnificent,” she said. I didn’t know what my wife meant, but I loved her for helping me through an unanticipated difficult moment. I put an end to the day quite early, stretching out on my steel rack of a bed before 7:00 in the evening. I read for a while, prayed for strength, and drifted into sleep. When I awoke this morning, I felt more in control of my emotions. The Thanksgiving holiday was only two days away. Many years of prison were behind me and more were ahead, but I could still feel gratitude for the blessings in my life.

The post A Long-term Prisoner’s Reaction to Bush’s Clemency Orders appeared first on Prison News Blog.

Many young people who engage in drug trafficking come from communities without much hope. Although difficult backgrounds may not excuse such decisions, they make the choices easier to understand. People who do not perceive choices they can make to advance their lives in legitimate ways sometimes choose crime as an alternative. Yet in my case, I had viable options that could have led to success. My parents reared my sisters and me in affluence. They were business owners who expected that I follow their example of hard work. Yet I lacked the character as a younger man to make good decisions. It was much easier for me to pursue the high life that came with trafficking in cocaine.

Rather than choosing the more responsible path to maturity, I chose excitement. I was not a drug abuser myself, and my social circle did not expose me to the devastation that drugs bring at the user level. My influences were shows like Miami Vice and movies like Scarface. While in my early 20s, I wrongfully pursued the quick path to perceived riches. Those decisions brought consequences that I failed to appreciate until long after I was caught by the DEA.

Upon my arrest, I continued to make bad decisions. I had never been imprisoned before and I was not ready to accept responsibility for my crimes. That resulted in my making bad decisions like pursuing a trial rather than a plea agreement that could have resulted in a lower sanction. I did not understand the criminal justice system or the options that were available to me. Because of that ignorance, I made choices that resulted in much stiffer penalties.

Since I have been in prison I have worked hard and consistently to reconcile with society for the bad decisions I made. I also strive to help others who are about to encounter the criminal justice system or prison. By reading my writings, I hope to help those individuals make better decisions.

The post Why I Regret that I Sold Cocaine and Fought the Criminal Charges appeared first on Prison News Blog.

While languishing in my prison cell, I realized the humiliation that I had caused my family and the disappointment that I had caused others in my community. Somehow, I wanted to reconcile with society. I wanted to undo the harm that I had caused by selling cocaine. The only manner I saw in which I could make a difference, I thought, was to educate myself. I wanted to develop communication skills, as I believed that by communicating, I could express my remorse and perhaps help others make better decisions than I had made as a younger man.

Those reflections led me to make a commitment. Although I could not comprehend the magnitude of a 45-year prison term, I could think about what I wanted to accomplish during my first decade of confinement. By working to educate myself, I would start the journey of becoming a positive role model. I felt fortunate to find universities that would work with me, despite my imprisonment. In 1992, Mercer University awarded me an undergraduate degree, and in 1995, Hofstra University awarded me a graduate degree. With those academic credentials, I felt as if I could speak for change and prison reform with more credibility.

During the many years that I served following my formal academic program, I thought about the steps I could take to reach others. Writing about my experiences, I hoped, would expose the consequences that followed criminal decisions. When I was making the bad decision to engage in drug trafficking, I never really considered that a criminal prosecution would be a part of my life. Many of the-people I have met in prison, even those convicted of white collar crimes, lived with similar delusions. Yet as a man who has experienced more than 21 years in prison, I now stand convinced that this system does not discriminate. Prosecutors will go after anyone who breaks the law, and those who are convicted will sacrifice much that others take for granted.

Cooperating with the prosecution was not an option that I was willing to consider, yet I should have accepted responsibility by pleading guilty to the charges against me. I knew that I had broken the law. Had I acted more responsibly, my sanction would not have been so severe. All in all, though, I am convinced that the long sentence I am serving will be a persuasive point as I work to convince others to make better decisions. Through articles I publish at www.criminal-indictment.com, I stand qualified to show others the whole journey because I have lived it.

The post Prison Led me to Reflect, Repent, and Reform appeared first on Prison News Blog.