By: Leo Carmona
I am about to turn thirty-nine, and I just marked seventeen years of incarceration. Entering the system at only a month and a half shy of my twenty-second birthday, I had no idea what I was in for. There was no way that I could have been prepared for the horrors, anguish, and traumas of institutional life. I was underweight, scrawny, emotionally sensitive, and very very naive. I still looked like a teenager! I was completely terrified about how, or IF I could survive. My only ‘knowledge’ of prison, coming from TV and movies. The odds didn’t look so good for someone like me.
Mostly well-meaning people in the county jail, had strongly suggested that as an ethnic minority, that my only chance at survival, was going to be to find “my people” and join their gang. (The fallacy and stereotype that all Latinos in the prison system are, or end up gang-members.) But I swore to myself that under NO circumstances, would I do such a thing. I’d made enough trouble for myself to essentially last a lifetime. So no matter how bad things got for me, I wouldn’t ever join a gang.
And bad, they definitely got. Over the course of the years to come, I tried hard to learn what I could, and to stay out of trouble as best as possible. I tried to acclimate and blend in, without “going full convict”, and continuing a trajectory of antisocial behavior. Trying to stay “normal” and not allowing my environment to harden me and make me cold and jaded, was better in theory, than in practice. It painted an even bigger target on my back. It made me a victim. Sadly, I had to endure beatings, being robbed, and even sexual assaults. Even worse than those things, was the fact that I convinced myself that I deserved it, and that I had it coming. I accepted those things. While that logic may have been distorted, it was also the spark in gaining new perspectives on my life and my own behavior patterns. I could now empathize with victims of crime and trauma. With people I had personally harmed and affected. I could now fully appreciate how my impulsivity and selfishness have profoundly affected nearly everyone I’ve ever encountered. My shame, regret, and remorse were so overwhelming. I wondered if I even deserved to live.
I was very lucky to encounter the very rare occurrence, of meeting and interacting with not one or two, but THREE prison MDOC employees who gave me ideas, as well as the tools to do the work on myself. They helped me realize that I was redeemable, and showed me how to start becoming the person I was always meant to be. Most importantly, they taught me about personal responsibility and accountability. For the rest of my life, I will owe a profound debt of gratitude to William Kaupp RN, Amy Klein MSW, and Librarian Regina Kemp. I’m not even sure that they ever even realized, just how much they influenced me, but I’m so thankful to them. Their supportive words still echo in my mind today, several years after I last saw them.
I truly and sincerely wish that I had the ability to dissolve the pain, anguish, and stress, that I caused for SO many people. I would gladly stay in prison for the rest of my life, if it meant that I could literally stop their pain. But that isn’t how our world works. I’m so ashamed of who I was seventeen years ago. Though I know that I cannot go back and erase my terrible choices, I am trying to figure out how to forgive myself. I’m still not always so sure that I deserve forgiveness, but I move forward.
Today, I have not been in any kind of trouble in quite some time. I’ve not had a misconduct in almost twelve years. I continue to learn, and to be very conscious of my words and of my actions. I now know all too well how they can adversely affect others. I practice empathy until it hurts, and I continue. I’ve decided to devote a very large part of the rest of my life, to doing things for others. I’ve immersed myself in as much volunteer/charity work as I can handle. I know it won’t erase or offset what was done yesterday. I’m thinking of tomorrow.
I learned how to crochet a few years ago, and I’ve been making hats and small blankets for a few different charity organizations. First the Lion’s Club of Jackson, where hats and blankets were sent to children in need, and more recently for The Comfort Buddy Mission, where we’ll be making and sending items to various shelters and children’s hospitals. I’m honored at being allowed to participate, and to be able to use my hands, my time, and my heart, to give a part of myself to so many people in the community who are struggling.
I am a father of two now-grown children. Unfortunately, I have no relationship at all with my son, and only very limited contact with my daughter. What’s more heartbreaking and challenging than actually being estranged from them, is accepting the fact that my own behaviors and tragic choices are what took me away from them. I can only hope and pray that someday, they’ll be open to receiving a sincere and heartfelt apology from me, and maybe, just maybe, they’ll allow me into their lives.
Until then, I continue to live the best way possible, in these extremely restricting and oppressive conditions. Some say “Talk Is Cheap”, and I not only understand, but I agree. I will continue my work, and hope that maybe one day I will be a success story. Not only for myself, but for anyone who has taken a chance on me, or ever will take a chance on me. Maybe I can inspire someone else to straighten themselves out, and strive to do better. To not only respect themselves, but to respect the rights of others, but above all else, to respect, revere, and honor the sanctity of human life itself.