A Real Friend

The Beat Without

by Dortell Williams I had never really thought about what a friend was, much less a real friend. But after thinking about it, and having a lot of bad friends as examples, I know exactly what a good friend is supposed to be. First, bad friends are not really friends at all. There’s no such thing as a bad friend. In reality, there are just good friends and bad people. Bad people will dare you to do dangerous things you don’t want to do. Bad people will let you be the fall guy (or girl) for things that you didn’t

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Thanks For Nothing

Piece of the Week

by Cassie Hey Dad, Thanks for abandoning me, basically when I was little. Thanks for making my mom and me resent you and become jaded when anyone wants to come into our lives. You shattered me at young age, as well as my image of what a man should be. I know you have your own issues, but I’ve always wanted to know why you couldn’t get stuff together, and step up for us and be my father? I guess you being a dead beat was a blessing in disguise, because my grandpa is the better father you could have never

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Life in Prison

The Beat Without

by Pao Yang Life in prison is very lonely, stressful, and dark like the black holes in space, which is capable of swallowing all of your dreams and goals. I am able to say that because at the age of sixteen, and through my sel sh actions, I was sentenced to life in prison. I traded away all of my teenage years of going to high school, a chance at driving a car; achieving my goals and career for being in prison, serving a sentence of 25 to LIFE for rst degree murder. I had to become a man in

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Positive Traits

Piece of the Week

by Revo My predicament has been helping me out positively. Despite my situation being negative, at this moment I’m in the process of learning patience, discipline and self-control. My ongoing incarceration has been assisting me shape the better, stronger me that I have been running away from for so long. Honestly I’m grateful for the adversities I’m facing because without them I wouldn’t be the same person I am right now. While in captivity I never obsess over time. It is a form of self-torture. I use my memories of the past and relive them in my mind. I stretch

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A Letter to Youth in Modesto Juvenile Hall

The Beat Without

by Miguel Quezada When I knew there was a chance that I could reach out to you young men and women in the Modesto Juvenile Hall, I was ready for the opportunity. You see, back in 1998 and ’99 from age sixteen to seventeen, I was in the max unit, and in 1999 I spent some time in the boy’s unit too. Back then I weighed about one hundred and fty pounds. But I felt a lot bigger because I carried within me a lot of resentment, loneliness, fear, and rejection. All of this spilled out into the world and

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Eighteen Years Gone

Piece of the Week

by T-Baby I can honestly say I wasted eighteen years of my life, each day chasing something; answers, love, a high, money, acceptance. I spent eighteen years acting out and making mistakes because I thought someone would save me. I realize now, though. I can’t keep making mistakes based off the choices people made before I was born or because people thought life was boring and wanted more than just a family. I wish life was laid out in front of me but it’s not and never will be. I don’t know where the days went. Time keeps speeding up

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The Power of Words

The Beat Without

by A. Raheem Ballard Since the beginning of time, language has allowed people of all ethnicities to communicate, to be heard, and to be felt. Through the exchange of words, language has also allowed people to persuade others, and to be persuaded. For example, the ery speeches of Adolf Hitler convinced a nation of people that blonde hair and blue eyes was a sign of ethnic superiority. Then, there was the congregation of Jim Jones, which was tragically misled from America to Africa, only to commit mass suicide. These horri c acts were not only carried out with bad intentions,

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Staring Back At Me

Piece of the Week

by Rajene Thick brown skin with battle scars everywhere, a glance around my face expressing a deep depression and overcoming of sin. I see three tattoos that express the love for the people symbolized amongst each of them. I see coarse hair, which I was born with and struggled with while going through different stages of depression. I remember my different hairstyles as I think of myself, and cry knowing that my hair did not deserve this point of roughness. That’s just the outside appearance of the mirror for the bigger image is withheld inside of my soul, heart and mind.

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