As football season rolls in, I’m reminded of how strongly people felt, on both sides, when some NFL players took a knee during the national anthem. I remember the feelings and opinions being so intense that it ruined friendships, dominated social media and gave the impression that these highly paid athletes, mostly Black men, were unpatriotic.
I have a different view of that.
I once lived at a place in Rhode Island that seemed to be overrun by possums and rodents. A friend brought in a cat named “Smokey,” a grayish British shorthair. Smokey had one eye missing and plenty of battle scars from his time on the street. No one knew the origin of Smokey’s missing eye, but I’d like to think that it was gangsta enough, and heartbreaking enough, to make Smokey my type of cat.
I remain humble and non-judgemental because we aren’t too far apart on society’s spectrum. Both rejected in some shape or form, both judged and both still making our paths regardless of circumstances.
Our major difference is our choices. Hers is high risk for short-term gains. She could very well get in a vehicle with the next serial killer, never to return. Her next drug fix could end her life on the spot. As someone returning to society going against all odds, it makes me wonder.
One of the few qualities that the thinking man (or woman) should pick up from incarceration is the ability to navigate around different personalities. Think about it, a lot of us are in cell blocks, dormitories, and/or housing units that house anywhere from 50 to 100 people. Those are 50 to 100 people that you have to engage with, sidestep, and learn to deal with. It’s a quality that comes over time, and sometimes I feel as if I could have a career in sociology or mental health.
I’m near my one-year anniversary of being released from federal prison. At times, I’ve been extremely frustrated…it hasn’t been an easy road. I used to sit back and daydream about this freedom, and how I would capitalize on it. The obstacles that I envisioned are real, but I’ve realized that rebuilding my life isn’t an overnight task.
I can’t help but to have flashbacks when I see the growing problems in Manchester. There are more shootings than I’ve ever seen in my time in this city. Gang violence, addiction, and crime seem to have risen, while the quality of life seems to be slipping. Although still one of the better places to live, I’m optimistic about it getting better.
We have the highest incarceration rate in the world, so just by sheer statistics, there’s a great chance that you know someone who’s incarcerated. Outside of the greatly appreciated phone calls and commissary, what can you suggest to them that will give them the greatest chances of success upon release?
Before I was incarcerated, I had a fiancee, an entertainment business, and my father was alive. After nearly seven years of incarceration, I lost all three. Outside of marginal certifications and independent studies, the things I gained are a 6-year-old daughter, stepsons who are damn near my height, and gray hairs on my chin.
