~21~

Last week I was introduced to another prisoner's blog: The Death Row Poet.  I read the article.  He has been on the local news and he is making quite a splash. 

This man has a name.  His name is Ronnie.  Ronnie writes about how corrupt the prison system is.  Ronnie is also quick to point out the side effects his writing has caused him to experience at the 'Hilton' (a.k.a Raiford Corrections Institute).  I noted that he stated you have to choose your battles carefully.  I agree.

(Ronnie Clark from his blog)

However, Ronnie has balls.  This man is single handedly taking on the prison system.  A world to itself.  Sure, these prisons may be in your backyard, yet they make their own rules.  On your side of the fence, you are suppose to be innocent until proven guilty.  Step on this side, we're just guilty.  Sadly, 80% of these guys will just sit back and eat the shit sandwich fed to them each day.  Not Ronnie.  No, Ronnie is standing up. 

Ronnie, your gonna get this message.  I'll see to it that you do.  I'm a fellow brother in blue.  Your voice is not only heard on the outside, but we hear you on the inside too.  I don't need to tell you what it means to be 21.  (For those of you that do not know....being 21 is a statement in the chain-gang that means 'I am a man.'  I still have a set of nuts between my legs.  When push comes to shove, I'll stand up.)  Ronnie, X53314 is 21.   

There is good sense in choosing battles 'wisely'.  I know full well what happens behind these fences.  Things that you, out there, will never know because we are a world to ourselves.  I handle what's handed to me the best that I can.  I also have a mother, three sisters, a 14-year old daughter and a woman - all who want me to come home.  So, these days I remind myself of this when I choose my battles. 

At my very first prison, I was given the tour.  The full tour.  I waited two weeks before I called my mom and told her.  Now, we have a system...if I don't phone home every three days, them my mother calls the warden to find out where the hell her son is.  It's possible to get lost back here.  Many dudes get lost in confinement.  So me and my people set up safeties.  My people don't play.  They get involved.

I'm lucky to have this.  It saves me all the time.  Plenty of dudes back here have no one.  No one to help them.  I do.  I also have a voice. For this very reason I will step up and let Ronnie (a.k.a The Death Row Poet) know that his voice is heard.

I read his article in a Jacksonville newspaper.  After reading it, I called my girl and asked her look it up.  She then sent me some of his material.  Just reading his blog lets me know he has people who care.  Ronnie's mat on Death Row may quite possibly be the only comfort he has.  Yet that will keep you warm.  Yes, knowing that you are not forgotten will indeed keep you warm.  Even if the food sucks! 

One of the biggest points I would like to make is how good it is to feel supported.  It's good for the guards and staff to see that we have family, friends and even strangers who care.  This will cause them to hopefully rethink and consider what form of punishment they decide to hand down. 

There is a set of rules.  For both guards and inmates.  Ours are constantly being revised and changed to rule over us better.  But who enforces their rules?  Ask them and it's all under control.  Ask Ronnie, myself, or any other person who has done time...you'll get a different answer. 

It's a spark that creates a flame.  That flame becomes a fire that begins to burn.  Nascar says...."Gentlemen start your engines!"  The U.F.C. says...."Let's get ready to rumble!"  I like the way my girl says it the best..."Let's throw some rocks, Baby!" 

Well, baby, we're throwing rocks.

Bottom line, I'm 21.  We named the project the Judicious Jailbird.  I want it to also be 21.  We will stand up.  I see you Ronnie.




------> (Psst!  Remember to follow the blog for a chance to win great J.J. merchandise!)

Give Me One More Chance.

Last week I read about a man who writes for a blog from Death Row.  He made front page of the Jacksonville paper due to his blunt basking of the Florida prison system.  You go Mr. Death Row Poet.

He was given an interview in which he was asked, "Do you feel ready to be released?"

Since reading that article I have asked myself that same question a hundred times.  Over the past 3.5 years of my prison sentence I have many times thought about that day.

What is the American dream?  Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.  Is that still your dream?  Just prior to coming to prison, my life was anything but.  I was pursuing the other American dream...get high...stay high.

When I read the Death Row Poet's interview, I was taken by his response.  Today, for me, my life is a mission to better myself.  Even my blog is used to reach out.  Sometimes, it is just about a simple laugh.  Other times, I am serious and use my life experiences to make a point, but let's move on.  Let's move toward something.

My goal is no longer to get high.  Ask me!  Ask me if I'm ready to go home.  Ask me if I'm ready to be a man to my woman, a role model to my child, a big brother to my siblings.  My answer is YES!

Every day of my life is spent planning for that day.  Making sure that I'm ready.  Fixing my relationships, putting drugs and past addictions further behind me.  Replacing the bad people in my life with ones who love me for me, people who stand beside me, and see me as a changed man.  My support group.

Ask me if I'm ready to go home...I'll give you the opposite answer the Death Row Poet gave.  Then again, we are different in many ways.  From day one, the Judicious Jailbird has been used to spark change...To inspire you to think.  To not take life for granted. To enjoy your freedom.  To grab just one more kiss from your partner before you head out that door.  To remember to call your momma and tell her how much you love her.  To be a better parent.  To smile, laugh, be silly and be ALIVE!

I'm not writing to point fingers.  I do not blame my fuck-ups on anyone else.  I'm a full-grown man and I accept responsibility for my mistakes.  This is the only way you can then work through them and fix them...fix yourself!

So instead of being angry, pointing fingers at others, talking bad about the prison, or how it's ran...I speak bad about drugs, crime, and the real issues that brought me here.  At the end of the day, I brought me here.  My mission now is to get right so I can get me back out there.

Yeah, I'm ready to go.  I have my woman, my daughter, and a solid business plan.  My family knows that I love them.  I know where I'm going.  I know how to get there.  The people who doubted me, pulled me down, held me back...well, they were the first ones to go.  Some days I see these prison bars as a giant sifter.  These bars have sifted out the good and the bad...separated me from the good in me and the bad that tried to overtake me.  I came into prison and the bullshit stopped here.  The bad in my life slowly sifted away.  Now you meet the man who stands here today. 

The drugs are gone.  Bad people are gone.  The wrong woman is gone.  My old views are gone.  Yes, the bad in my life has been sifted out by the very bars meant to confine me.  Hold me down.  Lock me in.  Punish me.  The very bars that in the end...saved my life.

Today, I'm glad that I came here.  The judge saved my life in September of 2008 when he handed me a prison sentence.  I'm just happy that instead of ranting and raving about how prison sucks and I'm angry...I used this experience to better myself.  To change my life.  Today I put a whole new price tag on freedom.  People, it's priceless.  Until you've lost it, you can't see what its full value is....unless...

Unless I can paint you a picture you can appreciate.  A picture you can fully grasp.

So, did you go in for a second kiss lately?  Did you put a love note on the seat of your spouse's car?  Have you made plans to take your kids somewhere special this weekend?  Why don't you get on that.  You only live once...enjoy your freedom.  I am going to keep fighting to get mine back.