Trying to Escape, Only to Not Escape

by Brianna Instead of confronting my fears of sadness and agony, I tend to run away from them. Most of the time, well the in-between time, I can escape it. Though when I get tired of all the running, I sit back and watch it catch up to me. So I can never say I didn’t see something coming. The escape is always temporary. My form of running is altering my state of mind with drugs to force myself not to have to face all realities of the world and to lift the burden that weighs so heavily on me.

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THE BEAT WITHIN/The Crime Report

Today, the Crime Report, based in New York City, picked up, posted, and is featuring the powerful contribution from our colleague and friend, Emile DeWeaver, who tackles his journey through the “school-to-prison pipeline.” We can’t wait to share the news with Emile and our writing group this weekend, when we participate in The Beat Within’s monthly writing workshop inside San Quentin State Prison. We hope you will give a read and share with your community http://www.thecrimereport.org/ The Butterfly Effect: “Everything You Do Matters” http://www.thecrimereport.org/news/inside-criminal-justice/2016-02-everything-you-do-matters

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THE BEAT WITHIN/JJIE

Greetings friends, Today, the JJIE (Juvenile Justice Information Exchange) based in Kennesaw, Georgia, picked up and posted Beat writer and juvenile lifer, Jensen Ramos’, “Broken Promises and Heartache” piece that he sent to us from the California State Prison Los Angeles in Lancaster, California. Late last year, The Crime Report picked up this piece and now to our surprise the JJIE is running it as well.  We too think it is a fabulous piece of writing that we can only hope will touch many of our young people living on the edge who may unfortunately find themselves in such a position. This

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Down But Not Out

by Eddie “Edito” DeWeaver There have been many times in my life where I felt that I could not go on. It seemed, with my short-sightedness, that there were outside forces in my life that were overwhelmingly greater than me. There were times in my youth that I felt like nobody cared about me and I would isolate myself by hiding away in a closet to cry. For some reason, I believed that life should be fair, and as a result of feeling powerless, I would not want to go on in this world. In these closet appointments, I feared

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