More Than Just a Number
by Barbara Hernandez, posted at the request of Efrén Paredes Jr.
A CHILD
No child dreams of going to prison. No child envisions being given a long drawn-out death sentence.
My greatest hopes were predominantly surrounded by — and consisted of — candy, ice cream, toys, cartoons, the swings at the park. But they were overshadowed by fear, by hunger, by neglect, abuse and the bogeyman.
I was a ghost of a child: afraid of the dark, afraid of my dad, afraid of being alone, afraid of going to sleep, afraid even of my own dolls.
ON THE STREETS
Homeless at the time, I didn’t think any further than the task at hand when my 20 year old boyfriend instructed me to go to the store to buy a knife**. I obeyed. When I brought it back to him at the abandoned house we were squatting in, I then obeyed as he told me to bring back to the house a man who was looking for a prostitute. I had been turned on to drugs and pimped out into the streets very early in the relationship; when I was 13–14 years old. I had just turned 16 at this time. He told me that he wanted a car because the police were looking for him; that he was going to take this man’s car and that he’d kill him if he had to. As a man drove up to me looking for a prostitute on the same street as the abandoned house, I got into his car and showed him into the house. When I was in his car, I wasn’t thinking about the fact that he could possibly be murdered. I thought no further than complying with what my boyfriend instructed me to do. It wasn’t until he and the man were struggling with each other in the other room, that I realized something terribly awful was happening. I was both paralyzed by fear and wanted to run from the house. I knew I couldn’t escape my boyfriend. I knew I was trapped by him well before this horrible day.
LIFE WITHOUT PAROLE
I was tried as an adult for aiding in a murder and armed robbery, found guilty, and sentenced to life without parole. I didn’t understand the court proceedings. I wasn’t capable of helping my court-appointed attorney in defending me. I didn’t understand that by obeying my boyfriend, I was guilty of a crime. I would spend well over a decade in prison before I could even begin to comprehend these things. I was confused, lost; I felt worthless, depressed, overwhelmed by anxieties already well-advanced from early childhood; I was damaged by the abusive relationship, horrified and haunted by the murder, feeling guilt and shame-ridden that someone was brutally murdered and that I was part of it.
PRISONER #218771
No less damaged and confused, imprisoned within myself, I came to the place where I would wait out my own death. I was a novelty because of my juvenile status: attractive to sexual predators, corrupt guards, mothers who desperately missed their own children, others looking to take advantage of me financially, materialistically, to bully and push drugs upon. My experiences in life thus far told me that I couldn’t trust anyone and people would only cause me some form of harm. At the same time, I wanted to be accepted. I didn’t know how to navigate in this prison environment and so I continued to retreat into myself. I was still that ghost of a child and would continue to be so decades into my adult years. For years upon years I would constantly feel like I was losing my mind trying to understand why I was now a convicted murderer. At the same time, I carried the weight of my guilt and shame for this murder. And because of my lack of understanding I became ever more buried by the guilt and shame, unable to grow, though I would grow up in prison. Compounding and exacerbating this emotional state was my ongoing drug abuse.
SCHOOL
Though I was locked in my mental prison, I functioned without needing close supervision. Even while I was on guard for opportunists, I didn’t know that I was being observed from a distance at the request of concerned staff because of my youth. I was sent to pre-GED classes. I didn’t like the classes but tried to complete my assignments as quickly as I could, and I pressured the teacher to allow me to take the GED test early so I could be done with school. I passed the GED on my first try and felt like I accomplished something. It actually made me feel like I was more grown up. Soon after, I signed up for my very first college class. Even as I struggled with my existence, circumstances, and continued drug addiction, I kept taking college classes.
AWAKENING
I can’t point to one specific person or situation that brought me to the end of my drug use. However, in the midst of the fog, I felt that the condition I was in wasn’t who I wanted to be, and wasn’t who I knew myself to be. Some part of me had to know I had a Self-worth fighting for, because I’d worked so hard at protecting that same undeveloped ghostly Self. But my initial efforts and ways of doing so only caused more damage. Now I wanted something better. And I knew better couldn’t come though until I first quit using drugs. 2003–4 saw the end of my drug use.
NEW CONCEPTS
I wasn’t introduced to the type of treatment I needed to work through my drug addiction and life issues until 2010, when I entered the Residential Substance Abuse Treatment (RSAT) program. The program hadn’t been available to me until this time because my life without parole sentence made me ineligible. Changes in the program in 2009–10 allowed for me to enter treatment. It was an intense, year-long, program, and upon successful completion I was considered for employment as a residential mentor in RSAT.
As a client in the RSAT program, I worked on (but was not limited to): coping skills, setting boundaries, critical thinking, anger management, domestic violence, the decision making process, abuse and trauma, connecting the dots in my life in understanding what contributed to my drug abuse, abusive relationship and criminal involvement, and learning how to avoid repeating unhealthy and distorted thinking and behavior patterns, and how to be a productive, responsible citizen. The program has since transitioned to a shorter 90-day treatment called Aggressive Substance Abuse Treatment (ASAT). I’ve been employed since my completion of RSAT in 2011 in the capacity of a Therapeutic Program Mentor. I’m expected to exhibit role model behavior, assist clients as they work through the material, their addictions and life issues. I assist clients with Relapse Prevention Plans, Treatment Plans, help them problem-solve, de-escalate volatile interactions, and simply offer an empathetic ear and encourage positive change. I assist program staff with clerical work and any other duties they may assign. I continue to work on myself from a recovery standpoint as well.
STAYING POSITIVE
I’ve been incarcerated for 30 years and am now 46 years old. I continue to apply myself through college courses, take correspondence Bible Studies, read a variety of books and I have good, decent, supportive friends, family and advocacy — beautiful people that love me, believe in me, and hope for me. I talk books, movies, spirituality and current events with my friends. I’m on the waiting lists for the training and certification for a Recovery Coach as well as a Peer Support Specialist.
AN ALTERNATE FUTURE
If I don’t die in prison, I’d like to continue complete a business degree program, study computer technology and archaeology. I also would like to write short stories, prose and poetry. I’d like to advocate in the areas of child abuse and human trafficking. I’d also like to work at eliminating the school-to-prison pipeline. I want to do things that matter not just to myself, but that impact the well-being and quality of life of others.
AND ALWAYS
I know full well there’s nothing I could possibly ever do to undo what I’ve done. I know full well the pain and devastation I’ve caused. I’ll always work to be my best Self. I am, have always been, and will always be terribly sorry.
A CHILD
No child dreams of going to prison. No child envisions being given a long drawn-out death sentence.
My greatest hopes were predominantly surrounded by — and consisted of — candy, ice cream, toys, cartoons, the swings at the park. But they were overshadowed by fear, by hunger, by neglect, abuse and the bogeyman.
I was a ghost of a child: afraid of the dark, afraid of my dad, afraid of being alone, afraid of going to sleep, afraid even of my own dolls.
ON THE STREETS
Homeless at the time, I didn’t think any further than the task at hand when my boyfriend instructed me to go to the store to buy a knife. I obeyed. When I brought it back to him at the abandoned house we were squatting in, I then obeyed as he told me to bring back to the house a man who was looking for a prostitute. I had been turned on to drugs and pimped out into the streets very early in the relationship; when I was 13–14 years old. I had just turned 16 at this time. He told me that he wanted a car because the police were looking for him; that he was going to take this man’s car and that he’d kill him if he had to. As a man drove up to me looking for a prostitute on the same street as the abandoned house, I got into his car and showed him into the house. When I was in his car, I wasn’t thinking about the fact that he could possibly be murdered. I thought no further than complying with what my boyfriend instructed me to do. It wasn’t until he and the man were struggling with each other in the other room, that I realized something terribly awful was happening. I was both paralyzed by fear and wanted to run from the house. I knew I couldn’t escape my boyfriend. I knew I was trapped by him well before this horrible day.
LIFE WITHOUT PAROLE
I was tried as an adult for aiding in a murder and armed robbery, found guilty, and sentenced to life without parole. I didn’t understand the court proceedings. I wasn’t capable of helping my court-appointed attorney in defending me. I didn’t understand that by obeying my boyfriend, I was guilty of a crime. I would spend well over a decade in prison before I could even begin to comprehend these things. I was confused, lost; I felt worthless, depressed, overwhelmed by anxieties already well-advanced from early childhood; I was damaged by the abusive relationship, horrified and haunted by the murder, feeling guilt and shame-ridden that someone was brutally murdered and that I was part of it.
PRISONER #218771
No less damaged and confused, imprisoned within myself, I came to the place where I would wait out my own death. I was a novelty because of my juvenile status: attractive to sexual predators, corrupt guards, mothers who desperately missed their own children, others looking to take advantage of me financially, materialistically, to bully and push drugs upon. My experiences in life thus far told me that I couldn’t trust anyone and people would only cause me some form of harm. At the same time, I wanted to be accepted. I didn’t know how to navigate in this prison environment and so I continued to retreat into myself. I was still that ghost of a child and would continue to be so decades into my adult years. For years upon years I would constantly feel like I was losing my mind trying to understand why I was now a convicted murderer. At the same time, I carried the weight of my guilt and shame for this murder. And because of my lack of understanding I became ever more buried by the guilt and shame, unable to grow, though I would grow up in prison. Compounding and exacerbating this emotional state was my ongoing drug abuse.
SCHOOL
Though I was locked in my mental prison, I functioned without needing close supervision. Even while I was on guard for opportunists, I didn’t know that I was being observed from a distance at the request of concerned staff because of my youth. I was sent to pre-GED classes. I didn’t like the classes but tried to complete my assignments as quickly as I could, and I pressured the teacher to allow me to take the GED test early so I could be done with school. I passed the GED on my first try and felt like I accomplished something. It actually made me feel like I was more grown up. Soon after, I signed up for my very first college class. Even as I struggled with my existence, circumstances, and continued drug addiction, I kept taking college classes.
AWAKENING
I can’t point to one specific person or situation that brought me to the end of my drug use. However, in the midst of the fog, I felt that the condition I was in wasn’t who I wanted to be, and wasn’t who I knew myself to be. Some part of me had to know I had a Self-worth fighting for, because I’d worked so hard at protecting that same undeveloped ghostly Self. But my initial efforts and ways of doing so only caused more damage. Now I wanted something better. And I knew better couldn’t come though until I first quit using drugs. 2003–4 saw the end of my drug use.
NEW CONCEPTS
I wasn’t introduced to the type of treatment I needed to work through my drug addiction and life issues until 2010, when I entered the Residential Substance Abuse Treatment (RSAT) program. The program hadn’t been available to me until this time because my life without parole sentence made me ineligible. Changes in the program in 2009–10 allowed for me to enter treatment. It was an intense, year-long, program, and upon successful completion I was considered for employment as a residential mentor in RSAT.
As a client in the RSAT program, I worked on (but was not limited to): coping skills, setting boundaries, critical thinking, anger management, domestic violence, the decision making process, abuse and trauma, connecting the dots in my life in understanding what contributed to my drug abuse, abusive relationship and criminal involvement, and learning how to avoid repeating unhealthy and distorted thinking and behavior patterns, and how to be a productive, responsible citizen. The program has since transitioned to a shorter 90-day treatment called Aggressive Substance Abuse Treatment (ASAT). I’ve been employed since my completion of RSAT in 2011 in the capacity of a Therapeutic Program Mentor. I’m expected to exhibit role model behavior, assist clients as they work through the material, their addictions and life issues. I assist clients with Relapse Prevention Plans, Treatment Plans, help them problem-solve, de-escalate volatile interactions, and simply offer an empathetic ear and encourage positive change. I assist program staff with clerical work and any other duties they may assign. I continue to work on myself from a recovery standpoint as well.
STAYING POSITIVE
I’ve been incarcerated for 30 years and am now 46 years old. I continue to apply myself through college courses, take correspondence Bible Studies, read a variety of books and I have good, decent, supportive friends, family and advocacy — beautiful people that love me, believe in me, and hope for me. I talk books, movies, spirituality and current events with my friends. I’m on the waiting lists for the training and certification for a Recovery Coach as well as a Peer Support Specialist.
AN ALTERNATE FUTURE
If I don’t die in prison, I’d like to continue complete a business degree program, study computer technology and archaeology. I also would like to write short stories, prose and poetry. I’d like to advocate in the areas of child abuse and human trafficking. I’d also like to work at eliminating the school-to-prison pipeline. I want to do things that matter not just to myself, but that impact the well-being and quality of life of others.
AND ALWAYS
I know full well there’s nothing I could possibly ever do to undo what I’ve done. I know full well the pain and devastation I’ve caused. I’ll always work to be my best Self. I am, have always been, and will always be terribly sorry.
