By Anthony Payton, Columnist, Granite State News Collaborative
Listen to writer Anthony Payton tell his storythis episode of The Common Ground Podcast
Anthony Payton (Photo Credit Allegra Boverman)
Around 2 years ago, on December 10th, 2019, I exited a federal prison where I had spent the last 6-½ years. I met my brother, Chris, in the Port Authority Bus terminal in NYC. He handed me a cell phone preloaded with important numbers, pictures, and some cash. I boarded the bus headed to Boston, eventually landing in New Hampshire. During that bus ride, I watched videos of my father who died while I was in prison interacting with my daughter who was born while I was in prison. I took deep breaths, laughed, cried, and absorbed everything.
I arrived at the halfway house and was determined not to fail. I wanted to make the most of the situation I was in. I know what recidivism looks like. I had been through that revolving door.
Not any more.
I abided by the house rules. I took a job at a fast food restaurant, with promises of becoming a manager within 90 days. I was overqualified, underpaid, and worked with people nearly half my age. I kept a positive attitude. This was the process I needed to trust.
I left every shift with my head held high, my mood majestic. After all, I’d just left a place where I made $60.00 per month(on the high end), and was told when to eat, sleep, and shower. I’d faced worse. This part was easy. I was putting in motion the plan I’d laid out while still in prison.
In my first few days of incarceration in February 2013, my then fiance told me that she was pregnant. She sent me a picture of the sonogram. That picture of that precious little life, hung on the wall in my cell. That picture was my strength. I stared at it every night before bed. In October 2013, Pharell Williams had one of the biggest hit songs in the country, “Happy”. However, I was the saddest man in the building. As her mother gave birth, I sat in a cell deeply depressed, in a dark abyss. To this day, when I hear that song, a wave of emotions come over me. My daughter loves the song. One day, perhaps, I will tell her the significance of it.
If I had to find a point of reference, when I decided to change for the better, it was in that cell as my daughter was being born. I could never subject my family or myself to these circumstances again. I started taking classes on day trading futures and stocks, became a culinary arts student, and kept my face in books, studying everything from collegiate level writing to screenplay development.
Once out, I started working and a month later, I upgraded to a higher paying job. By July 2020, I’d successfully made the transition from the halfway house into my own apartment, which is located literally 10 feet from my daughter and her brothers. That precious life in that sonogram, who was now 6 years old, made me work for every bit of her trust. She was curious but skeptical about the big man who fawned over her so much. The man who until then she only saw on visit day and in pictures. She had no idea of how much I’d been waiting for these moments.
Throughout all of this, what I didn’t know was that the seeds of where I am today were being firmly planted. It began with Mr. Charles “Chuck” Novak, a Master Licensed Alcohol and Drug Counselor. I was assigned to Chuck through the Bureau of Prisons as part of my counseling obligations. He took a liking to me and saw something in me that made him dedicate the time. Chuck went above and beyond in helping me with the transition to society. His diligence was heartfelt and genuine. After discovering my penchant for writing, Chuck then introduced me to a friend of his, one of the most beautiful people that I’ve ever encountered, Ms. Carol Robidoux, publisher of Manchester Ink Link.
Carol gave me the platform to express myself as a freelance writer. Carol introduced me to another beautiful soul, Melanie Plenda of the Granite State Collaborative. This spawned a column that gets distributed around the state, as well as the podcast to go beside it. Through that, I’m working with yet another beautiful person, Dr. Kristen Nevious at The Marlin Fitzwater Center for Communications at Franklin Pierce University, who along with student interns like Alena Masterson, shape and mold the audio version of my writing.
Chuck also introduced me to Anthony Harris, who you may know as a recent candidate for Alderman in Manchester. We came together with initiatives to help formerly incarcerated people get back on track. It's been a great journey. He became a huge part of my growth. He wound up being my accomplice in doing good, a source of energy, one who has a similar mindset when it comes to growth and reaching goals.
There was once a salesman by the name of Zig Ziglar, who said, “Attitude, not aptitude, determines altitude.” In my case, truer words couldn't have been spoken. It was probably my attitude that inspired Chuck to introduce me to Carol. It was my attitude that got me through nearly seven years in prison...and my attitude that got me out of the halfway house unscathed. I was also blessed with a strong support system with my brothers Chris, Don, and Greg. If I needed anything, they had it for me. I can’t begin to tell you what it means to have a support system when reentering society.
Although attitude was a big part of my growth, effort and determination also played a part. After being gone from civilian life for so long, you begin to realize that the world can be your oyster, and there are plenty of opportunities for success out there. I had to stop thinking in terms of short-cuts. I have a young life that I’m responsible for, as well as her brothers who still watch me. I have family and friends whom I refuse to put through another round of incarceration blues with phone calls, visits, and missing milestones in their lives. Incarceration doesn’t just affect the incarcerated, it also affects their friends and families.
I don’t have time to focus on negative energy. I don’t have the time to pity myself or feel shameful. Although I’ve given a total of 13 ½ years of my life to incarceration, I feel as though I was destined for greater things. However, the total sum of my journey can’t be measured in years. I’ve been involved in gun violence, and I’ve been the target of federal investigations for drug distribution. Yet and still, I refuse to be broken. I know what it’s like to be an anomaly. I come from a two-parent home in the projects of Brooklyn. A home that stressed education. Those are the circumstances that shaped and molded me. That’s why my head is held high throughout judgement from others. My P.T.S.D spans decades, I’ve stared down my own demons, and nowadays, I can maintain eye-contact with the man in the mirror brushing his teeth.
These days, I cook for the Cypress Center in Manchester. I serve another population that people tend to stereotype and forget about; people with mental health issues. I watch the counselors, nurses and staff tend to this population. They are unsung heroes. It’s rewarding for me to be able to make a good meal and flex my cooking skills for these people.
I’m a freelance writer, columnist, and podcast host. I’m on the advisory board for the New Hampshire Bail and Bond fund. I’m on the media and outreach team for a housing initiative in Manchester. I’m the co-founder of a soon to be non profit organization that will help men and women make the transition back to society.
That work ethic, humility, and attitude helped to put the right people in my circle. It’s what made 2021 such a great year for me. I feel no need to deviate from this formula.
And that precious life in the sonogram is now 8 years old. Of these 8 years, I’ve spent two of them with her as a free man. There have been tears, laughter, arguments, hugs, kisses, tense stand-offs and negotiations. She gets extremely embarrassed when I bust out my latest dance moves, or when I bring my shower singing out in public. She uses me as a pillow to nap. These are the moments that I dreamt about when she was still in her mother’s stomach. These are the moments that I craved when she didn’t fully trust me.
I couldn’t ask for a better student. I couldn’t ask for a better teacher.
Life is great. Stay tuned. This comeback story is just beginning.
Anthony Payton is a freelance writer and father living in Manchester. He can be reached at anthony.payton@collaborativenh.org. This story is part of his project, The Common Ground Initiative which aims to highlight the diversity of our communities with stories of people the average Granite Stater might not get to see or meet. The goal is to clarify misconceptions and find the threads that bind us all together as one New Hampshire community.
These articles are being shared by partners in The Granite State News Collaborative as part of our race and equity project. For more information visit collaborativenh.org.