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The elderly of the prison system have always been my encyclopedia when navigating life inside. Funny, now I'm the one the young men approached for wisdom. In all truth, this wasn't a badge of honor, but more so the reality of my being incarcerated for far too long. Now they call me Unc (short for uncle). I'm a 49 year old that sat alone each morning at a stainless steel table. My books and college assignments littered the table as I sipped lemon tea from my coffee cup. The wo

My mind can't stop thinking about my brother Zo dying from cancer. Everything around me triggered memories about him. He was a shield that protected me from this madness known as prison. I been sharing how much I miss Zo, and that brings on more tears. Chris, my closest friend, worried I would relapse and get high. That started us on a journey as to why that would never happen: I'm not afraid to ask for help, and I'm not Tim. The night of Zo's passing, Tim decided to disrespe

A blizzard came down on our facility, placing us on Yellow Status, meaning only essential personnel were being called in. This meant that for the incarcerated men, outside was not on the menu. So workouts started and card games as men swarmed the six phones, calling out into the world. Life in prison didn't stop because of the elements; they adapted. That was why Haneef and I started working out. Each morning, Monday through Friday, we trained our aging bodies to stay healthy