Author: mpau@thebeatwithin.org

by Russ  Once upon a time, I wanted to be just like my dad. He was an outlaw, a tough guy, and was “running things.” When I was nine years old Dad was killed. He had been out of prison for exactly forty-two hours. Two days before he was released, I was removed from the only home I’d ever known, Grandma’s. Turns out my mother had regained custody of my sister and me. I was driven five-hundred miles north and delivered to my mother, who I hardly knew at all. Over the next two months I was notified of not just

By Cristian Bost I just want to thank you from the bottom of my heart by getting my message out there. When you guys sent me the November publication of The Beat Within with my short message, it made my day.  The majority of these kids are going through the same thing I went through as a child, from feeling abandoned, to feeling nobody cared about me and that I had nothing to lose, but that is why they need to know people do care about them. I am sending you this drawing I did to show my appreciation for

by Harry Goodall The main thing I want to do is be a dad. I have two kids, but have missed all of their lives because of a prison sentence. I feel that just because I helped in the creation of my kids does not make me a dad.  I’m just a donor. It’s other scenarios that had complicated me being involved in their lives, but I have had to learn to live with that.  If I didn’t place myself in prison maybe the restrictions wouldn’t be there. After all, you’re not placed in prison because you’re a good guy. As a result of

by Keith Erickson The scars of my childhood are the very parts of me that so many men like me, incarcerated men, want to keep locked away from the rest of the world around them. The Alternatives to Violence Project Workshops bring out the courage in men that you would never expect to witness within a prison. This weekend was like a whirlwind of emotions and laughter that left many of us crying, yet with the realization that our personal afflictions are so much bigger than just ourselves—they also belong to so many others within and outside of these granite walls.

by Christian Bost What I’m about to tell you is not a story, but rather a reality of my life. The reality is that I was seventeen years old, tried as an adult, and fighting for my life, praying to God that I wouldn’t have to spend the rest of my life in prison for murder. I grew up in the streets of Los Angeles, CA. I was raised in a household with just my mom and four brothers. My dad wasn’t around because, when I was just three years old, while he was locked up in his cell, his cellie