by Rayband Seventy-six days left! I’ve been here for fourteen months and twelve days. I’ve been counting down and planning a lot of stuff. I’m already knowing that nothing is the same out there. It’s the changes I’m going to have to get used to. I’m not worried about that because I’m ready to take the world head on. Being in here this long has made me ready to do anything. I’m not frail or afraid of anything. Being inside a cell for four hundred sixty-nine days straight will prepare you for lots of stuff. I’m the oldest person in
Continue ReadingYear: 2018
Volume 23.29/30
Please contact Lisa Lavaysse if you would like to purchase the full PDF or a printed copy of this issue.
Continue ReadingMy Story, My Irony
by Fernando Murillo My name is Fernando Murillo. I first wrote to The Beat in Alameda County Juvenile Hall as a sixteen-year-old boy. I was an impulsive, zealous young man full of so much self-righteousness. I was upset Michael Kroll and The Beat workshop people showed up during our rec time for a writer’s work shop. I felt exploited. I felt like some people outside wanted to come to the zoo and see the animals at a safe distance. Something I felt they wouldn’t do in the community. I was so ignorantly misinformed and irrational. I had no idea that this
Continue ReadingRemember Dad in June
by Macon June always reminds me of my father, not because it’s Father’s Day but it is also his birthday. My dad is one of the best dads I could ever wish for. When I was playing football, my dad would always take me to the park to work on my skills. He would also come to all my football practices and games. Even though my dad is always in and out of jail, he would always be there for me for the little time that he would be free. Besides my mom, my dad is the only person I can
Continue ReadingVolume 23.27/28
Please contact Lisa Lavaysse if you would like to purchase the full PDF or a printed copy of this issue.
Continue ReadingDon’t Just Count The Days, But Make The Days Count – Muhammad Ali
by Edgardo Ruiz I remembered sitting inside a holding cell waiting for sentencing, asking myself how did I allow myself to reach this low? When did I become so callous that I didn’t even care about my own life, let alone the life and feelings of others? How did I become so self-centered, selfish, egotistical and repulsive? Looking back to my childhood, I realized how innocent and carefree life was. You see, my upbringing was a little different. I was born and raised in Ponce, Puerto Rico where the ocean breeze was ever so lightly, the sunshine bright as ever and
Continue ReadingCan You Hear Me Now?
by Jeff Can you hear me now? Now that I’m shackled and chained Can you hear me now? Now that the “threat” has been contained Can you hear me now? Now that I no longer choke on these unspoken words Tell me can you hear me now? Now that the news has made people think I’m an animal Can you hear me now? Now that you know where I come from Can you hear me now? I try to tell people I’m a good kid Can you hear me now? Detectives trying to send me away for years Can they
Continue ReadingVolume 23.25/26
Please contact Lisa Lavaysse if you would like to purchase the full PDF or a printed copy of this issue.
Continue ReadingSolitary Confinement
by Michael Webb Prison is the most unforgiving place in the world. In this environment, it’s all about surviving and protecting yourself from other prisoners who prey on the weaker prisoners. Some prisoners believe if they can’t get some of your store or personal packages, then you don’t matter and some would even try to pressure you out of your stuff. So, you have to stand up for yourself and not become a victim. Sometimes standing up for yourself can get you placed in solitary confinement. For me, I consider going to solitary confinement a badge of honor. Being in
Continue ReadingWhen I Was Little
by Jazminegee When I was little I used to have no worries in the world When I was little I was just an ordinary little girl When I was little I didn’t know right from wrong When I was little I didn’t care to think where I belonged When I was little the innocence was shattered And now that I’m older I try to convince myself that none of that even mattered When I was little I lost my dad on my brother’s birthday And every year it makes him sad When I was little my mom was addicted to hard
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