Key points:
- Humans of San Quentin hosts first-ever “Graduation and Celebration” at San Quentin State Prison.
- The event honored incarcerated people who shared their stories with the organization over the past year.
- Humans of San Quentin’s reach now extends to nearly 200 prisons nationwide.
SAN QUENTIN, Calif. — Last week, Humans of San Quentin hosted its first-ever “Graduation and Celebration,” an event that honored the voices of incarcerated people who have shared their stories with the organization over the past year and introduced new participants to its mission.
Held inside San Quentin State Prison, the celebration drew 175 incarcerated residents and about a dozen Humans of San Quentin interns — college students from across the country who work with the nonprofit. The day featured music, rap, poetry, Aztec dancers and other performances, offering a vibrant and emotional showcase of the humanity and creativity inside the prison.
Founder and director Diane Kahn said the idea for the event was “twofold.” Before the pandemic, the group’s model was to “go in and speak with people face to face and get their stories and be able to thank them and have that connection.”
When COVID-19 restrictions shut down in-person visits, the organization relied entirely on written correspondence.
“We were then receiving everything through mail, which for me felt a little bit impersonal by not being able to see them,” Kahn said. “We always give them a letter of appreciation and vulnerability and truth. So it’s primarily to give them a certificate, give them a look in the face, give them a handshake. We had 175 people there yesterday, but it was nice to actually see them and them thank us.”
One of the day’s most emotional moments came from incarcerated participant Steve Embry, who was not scheduled to speak but addressed the audience about the recent loss of his daughter — just months after they had shared a father-daughter dance inside the prison. The dance, part of a special program, had given him what Kahn described as an “unheard of” opportunity.
“For him to be able to have that dance with her was something you never imagined he would have,” Kahn said. “She… gets in a car accident and dies. So this was just a couple months ago. He had not written about it, hadn’t talked about it. He wrote… probably four or five sentences about it. Then… he got up there and so eloquently took us through that process. It was basically his — we were burying his daughter right there with him and humanizing him and her and giving him that time to grieve. I know I was in tears.”
The event’s performances reflected Humans of San Quentin’s belief in offering multiple ways for people to tell their stories.
“Whether you’re rapping or you’re doing an Aztec dance, you’re showing up with your artwork — whatever you are as a human that best expresses yourself to the world, we got all that yesterday,” Kahn said. “It was wonderful. The only thing we didn’t get is a recipe.”
She explained that the organization has worked to expand beyond just written storytelling, recognizing that “not everybody has English as a first language. Not everybody can write.”
The group now welcomes poetry, music, visual art and other creative forms, with help from an inside team of 10 incarcerated men who help recruit and guide contributors.
For Kahn, the day carried personal significance.
“It was nice to have both my teenage sons there who have been indoctrinated by incarceration in the criminal justice system now since I started first going in eight years ago,” she said. “They’re 21 and 19. So that felt great. And then my husband too, who’s always been such a big supporter of mine… It was nice to have him and to have him up on stage and talking.”
Kahn also noted that the organization’s reach has grown far beyond San Quentin’s walls.
“If it wasn’t for the truth and the vulnerability and… trust of the men sitting in that chapel yesterday, Humans of San Quentin would not be alive,” she said. “Because of them… we’re in almost 200 prisons around the U.S. I was in Melbourne, Australia a couple months ago because of them. I’ve been in Oslo, Norway. I’ve been in Dublin, Ireland. I’ve been in Colombia, Guatemala City, Mexico City. It’s startling when you really start an act of kindness, how much the world really hooks onto it.”
That reach, Kahn said, is critical to the organization’s mission of challenging the public’s perception of people in prison.
“Completely, completely purposely tucked away, silenced. Let’s stick them in a nine-foot by four-foot cell… It’s a very archaic form of justice that society has really hooked itself into,” she said. “What we’re trying to do is planting seeds of change… People like you and I that are free, they can go out and vote differently. They can walk into prisons and help guys become, or women become, pro-social and help educate our society… and then potentially change laws and just show the kindness that’s happening. That’s our goal.”
The event also highlighted the work of Humans of San Quentin’s interns, who manage communications, outreach, grant writing, content creation and more.
The organization works with 30 to 35 high school students each semester and brings on about eight college interns in the summer.
Amherst College student Rina Huang said, “It’s been really wonderful. I’ve worked in law offices in the past and I sort of wanted to explore my horizons in the nonprofit world and I’m really enjoying my time here. It’s a smaller office, so I feel like the work I do has a much broader impact on the people we serve.”
Huang, who hopes to become a public defender, said her prior work in a public defender’s office prepared her for working with incarcerated people.
Eva, a sociology student, said the internship has been her “first sort of foray into this world” but one that she expects will shape her career path.
“I think it’s so cool to be learning about this right now… and being able to apply stuff that I’m learning in school… to an organization like this,” she said.
UC Davis student Gigi Ginocchio said her favorite part of the internship has been “getting to talk to a lot of the guys inside.” She said those conversations have reshaped her understanding of the justice system.
“You never know someone’s story… but you never really know how a person thinks, what their childhood was, how it could affect what they’re doing,” she said. “It really opened my eyes to… real people with normal lives and emotions.”
Kahn believes those changes in perception are the real measure of the organization’s success.
“At the end of the day, you put up a story… and people see that they’re not monsters,” she said. “That’s the one thing that’s going to convince people — no, don’t listen to that media. Turn it off. Listen.”
For her, the work is as much about changing the public’s mindset as it is about supporting the people inside.
“There’s many people in the U.S. that we literally can’t send a letter to that have their mail revoked,” Kahn said. “So we’re lucky to have the people that we have been talking to… People see that they’re not monsters. They don’t get terrified and lock their doors. That’s the true meaning of not lock them up.”
Even with challenges, such as restrictions on bringing media into the prison, Kahn said the event reaffirmed why Humans of San Quentin exists. “The day was what it was supposed to be,” she said. “And it really was about them.”
