Please contact Lisa Lavaysse if you would like to purchase the full PDF or a printed copy of this latest issue.
Continue ReadingMonth: March 2015
Detention
by Izais Detention… A place where “staff” run your life, a place where “freedom” is only a word you read in books or hear from kids who talk about it like they won’t ever know what it feels like to feel “free” again. Detention is a place where the word equality does not exist. Detention is a place that steals your youth; it robs you of the precious and unique experiences of young-adulthood. It grips its cold, dark fingers around your self-pride, self-confidence, self-reassurance, and self-everything. It slithers in your conscious and slowly poisons the very few thoughts that keep
Continue ReadingMy Failures
by Miguel Quezada As a kid, I failed in many little things. Basketball, because I had no coordination. Or when I tried to ride my bicycle over a motorcycle ramp and fell and broke my wrist. Or when in the seventh grade I asked Destiny to be my girlfriend, but she said, “Nooooo!” When I was young, I didn’t believe I was my failures. All they amounted to were failures. They didn’t get in my way. I kept falling, but picking myself up and trying and trying and trying. As I grew up, I seemed to fail a lot more. It
Continue ReadingThe Painful Journey
by Felisha My nickname is Felisha. My life wasn’t always crappy. The first three years of my life were the best from what I remember. I remember my mom with long beautiful hair, with pink cheeks and luscious lips. Little by little she faded away, the meth and heroin took her from me. I remember living in the projects/warzone/studio. Our studio wasn’t the best, but it was more than enough to me. I’d give anything to be back there before the drugs when it was me, my mom, her girl, my little brother Aliace. Around three maybe four years old, a
Continue ReadingThe Elusive Keys To Rehabilitation
by Dortell Williams “If you want anything done, you’ve got to do it yourself,” goes the refrain. That includes that ever elusive thing they call rehabilitation: self-help and personal development The truth is that within the confines of our misnomer, The California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation, rehabilitation can be a difficult thing to tackle. Lack of class space, lack of vocations and lack of structure for personal growth. I recall asking a mental health specialist a few years back what “rehabilitation” is: What am I chasing here? Were my exact words. His response? He laughed, heartily. He told me: “There
Continue ReadingChanged Perspective
by Fausto Minor Since my incarceration my life has changed dramatically. The change came when I realized that I can do something constructive with my time in prison. This realization came to me while I was serving a twenty-six month SHU term. That is when I decided that I no longer wanted to be a prisoner of my own vice, so I started to study all sorts of subjects that would stimulate my mind. I began to see the positive aspects of being in prison. Once I realized that prison can be a positive experience for me, is when I knew
Continue ReadingIn The Back of The Police Car
by Blaze When I was sitting in the back of that police car, I was thinking about a lot of things. I already have bad anxiety and PTSD so I was having lots and lots of flashbacks on my life. I was thinking a lot about my family, of me not being able to go back home, thinking wow, what a failure. I am thinking about all of those promises that I made. That I was going to change my ways and be a better person. And thinking about how many people that I let down. I had a really bad
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Volume 20.09/10
Please contact Lisa Lavaysse if you would like to purchase the full PDF or a printed copy of this latest issue.
Continue ReadingPeople Looked at Me as a Monster
by Joey When I was sitting in the back of that police car, I was thinking about when was the next time I would sleep in my own bed again? My heart was pounding, my mind was racing, and my body was perspiring. I was looking out of the window at other people who looked at me as though I was a monster. I put my head down. I was embarrassed of myself. I refused eye contact. I wanted to vanish. I could feel people’s eyes staring right at me. It felt horrible. I don’t like being labeled as a
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