In August 2022, in the visiting room of High Desert State Prison A-Yard, I proudly accepted my two A.A. degrees for transfer from Lassen Community College. Since this institution is situated closer to Oregon than the majority of counties in the state of California, it was live-streamed for all of our friends and family members who were unable to make the treacherous drive up here.
As I received my diploma and began shaking hands with the Assistant Warden, Principal, and other High Desert personnel, I realized that they, too, were proud of our accomplishments and were rooting for our success. I believe the reason for these individuals’ transformed attitudes toward us incarcerated learners is a growing educational and rehabilitative movement prevalent throughout the country. Although not every U.S. state has inaugurated this new concept of justice reform, one cannot help but notice the growing consensus that education and rehabilitation are the keys to restructuring our outside communities from the inside.
No longer does the erroneous notion of “tough on crime” have a space in our congressional hearings as they did in the early 1990’s. This new way of thinking has trickled into our jails and prisons through corrections officers, deputies, and other staff members who interact with incarcerated persons on a daily basis. It is becoming effortless for many of us behind bars to be forward-looking for the positive changes yet to come.
Arriving at High Desert State Prison the day after Tom Brady played the game of his life in the 2017 Super Bowl, I was optimistic about beginning my prison term. Proposition 57 had recently passed in the state of California, and with it, a number of modifications completely changed parole eligibility and length of sentences, and educational opportunities and incentives were expanded.
Before Prop 57, violent offenders such as myself were obligated to serve 85% of our sentences and were excluded from earning time off for completing educational or rehabilitative programs. We were also given harsh sentences that included enhancements that drastically exceeded our base prison terms. In my case, the base terms for both of the crimes I committed carry two and five years, respectively, yet I was sentenced to twenty-five years because of those draconian California laws.
My EPRD (earliest possible release date) in 2017 was September 2035. As of today, that date has been moved up to May 2029! Three of those six years were earned through the State lowering the percentage that must be served on violent offenses from 85% to 66%. The remaining three years were gained through completing vocational training courses and college classes.
Getting to where I am today has been no easy undertaking, and without these new incentives, I cannot imagine half of my achievements coming to fruition. I needed that nudge in the right direction because, without it, I would have continued listening to music, watching TV, and playing cards until my release date. Before Prop 57, I was not “doing time” so much as I was wasting time. My post-incarceration future looked bleak, to say the least, due to the systematic consequences of society and corrections being unable to conceive that a person like me could change.
Although the political rhetoric of the preceding decades continues to subconsciously influence the attitudes and beliefs of some working in corrections, the educational/rehabilitation movement has broadened perspectives on the matter. In California alone, any incarcerated person (in state prison) can participate in post-secondary education no matter the institution in which they reside. In addition, at least five prisons–if not more–have partnered with local universities to offer an in-person baccalaureate degree program for qualified incarcerated scholars. These programs will inevitably expand to other institutions thanks to the Second Chance Pell Grant.
Today I aspire to become a social worker, community resource manager, or journalist upon my release. Still, entering prison, my negative self-preconceptions would not have allowed me the opportunity to dream of a fulfilling career after prison. I am not the only one who has experienced this drastic inner change, and I won’t be the last. As such, crediting myself alone for this transformation would not only be dishonest but a disservice to those scholars who helped me along the way. They provided me with positive words and a sense of direction for my studies while motivating me to dream big during times when I was unsure of where I was going with my education. It was during these constructive discussions that I would find inspiration to fuel my own drive for success, and I am forever indebted to them.
Taking part in these educational programs has been life-changing, to say the least. In these last several years, I have gone from being a man-child without a purpose to being a man with a plan (my family can attest to both). The best part of this story is that my personal experience isn’t unique. Just looking outside of my cell door, I can count a dozen incarcerated scholars, each with their individual dreams and ambitions. I see a future clinical psychologist, political scientist, social worker, entrepreneur, and drug and alcohol counselor, just to name a few. I see firsthand the impact that the educational and rehabilitative movement has had on the minds of many of us, and I can only imagine the changes yet to come!
