James, San Quentin State Prison, CA
A former member of the Aryan Brotherhood and a Black Panther, what would bring these two men together? After decades of fighting and killing each other on California’s prison yards, two veterans of these wars, have managed to put their past differences behind them and form a meaningful friendship.
It all started with an idea that more needed to be done to assist aging prisoners. Called the B Number Project, it was formed after two employees at the San Quentin Rehabilitation Center saw a need to try to help prisoners in their seventies and older that have been incarcerated for forty to fifty years.
I began working as a Peer Literacy Mentor just about a year ago. The program employs a holistic approach to tackling the illiteracy problem of the incarcerated population through peer mentoring.
In my case, I primarily work with pre-GED students by assisting them in honing their educational skills and preparing them to take the GED test. Using Madeline Hunter’s Lesson Plan techniques, I create lesson plans for each student to meet their specific needs.
As a former member of the Aryan Brotherhood, and for a lot of other reasons, I was still very rough around the edges when I first came to Sufi seeking to become a Peer Literacy Mentor.
She was able to see something in me and gave me a chance. Since then, she has helped me turn my whole life around, so much so that when she came to me and told me that she would like me to work with an old Black Panther, I simply agreed. I figured if he doesn’t have a problem working with me, why not?
Sufi gave me his name, Jerry, and his cell number and asked me to introduce myself to him. I did, and I invited him down to meet Sufi. I told him that we would like to help him prepare for his next Board Hearing.
I told him that our objective was to help him get out. Mr. Walker is nearly seventy-five years old, has glaucoma and cataracts, suffers from cognitive and mobility issues. We were told that he doesn’t leave his cell much. Yet, the following day, although skeptical, he made his way down to the education department and met Sufi.
As I got to know Jerry, I discovered that I not only liked this revolutionary but respected him. Before committing my instant offense, I had spent the 1980’s going in and out of California’s prisons, and as a result we discovered that we knew a lot of the same people.
When he would mention different comrades of his being killed at this prison or that prison, I began to get a sinking feeling in my gut. I liked this man. Although I knew about his past as a Black Panther, I had not yet shared with him my past. I knew that it was my people that had murdered some of his comrades and it bothered me that I had not yet shared with him who I had been.
Even more concerning to me, was that I didn’t want him to find out about my past affiliations from someone else. It was important that it come from me. So, I told him.
To my surprise, he took off his sunglasses, turned to me and said, “What, you think I am stupid? Based upon all the people you knew and the places you had been it was obvious to me who you were.”
Our friendship just continued to grow from there and I help him wherever he needs help. Sometimes that may mean reading to him the warnings on a new medication he is taking, helping him write letters, or even taking some sheets over to the laundry to get them exchanged for him.
My friendship with Jerry working as a Peer Literacy Mentor, and all of the self-help groups I have been attending here at the San Quentin Rehabilitation Center, have all helped me see the world in a very different light. I never really considered myself a racist, until I began to get to know some of the black and brown men around me.
Then I was forced to recognize and begin to question some of my very own biases and prejudices. When you get to know a man personally, you find that you respect this man, and in some cases are even able to call him a friend. It becomes much harder to just ignore some of the inequities that these men have had to deal with all of their lives.
This transformation in my thinking has brought me to a pivotal moment in my life where I no longer want to be a part of the problem. It is now important to me that I become a part of the solution. It has inspired me to create a workshop called Rethinking Hate Based Ideology.
This workshop will break down the concept of race, racism, and hate ideology (and associated gangs) in such a way as to promote some transformation in people’s thoughts on the subject, including myself. This is to recognize the importance in changing our social thinking and behavior as we all prepare to return to an ever-changing society.
This is just one story about how the B Number Project changed the lives of two men. There are other stories every bit as compelling that bring about compassion and empathy, where you might least expect it.