In the fall of 2011, the term “Realignment” was added to the wordlist of the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation. That was when the department began transferring hundreds of prisoners to San Quentin State Prison by bus. For months, the “grey goose” could be seen pulling into the prison’s receiving and release gate, three to four loads each day.

Tim Young, George Coles-El, and Kamsan Suon were among the 2011 new arrivals. They still reside at the prison-turned rehabilitation center. Together, these men have served more than 80 years behind bars. Today, they barely recognize other Realignment transferees.

“At San Quentin, there’s been a lot of changes since I’ve been here,” said Young. “I’ve been through all of it.” Young arrived at San Quentin from Soledad Central on November 28, 2011. He has been incarcerated more than 36 years. When he transferred to San Quentin it was still what he called a “regular prison.”

“I still remember there was no power in West Block,” said Coles-El. “There was no hot water. There was nothing in there. They had us showering in the gym.” Incarcerated 19 years, he arrived at San Quentin on November 29, 2011, from Soledad Central.

Suon arrived at San Quentin on November 14, 2011, from Folsom State Prison. He has been incarcerated for 26-plus years, and said he takes programs to better himself. “I don’t like the fact that they’re dumping people [here] who don’t want to program. They (CDCR) need to vet out some of these guys.”

“I’m watching this building go up—I have high hopes it’s going to work,” Suon said about the rehabilitation center under construction. “I see the governor investing in us. At the same time, they (CDCR) need to cut the population. There’s too many people, and there’s too many problems.”

Fourteen years ago the U.S. Supreme Court upheld a lower court order for California to reduce its prison population to 137.5% of design capacity. The decision affirmed a federal three-judge panel’s order from two years earlier. The state Legislature responded with Assembly Bill 109, formally known as the 2011 Public Safety Realignment Act, more frequently referred to as “Realignment.”

When Young, Coles-El, and Suon arrived at San Quentin, South Block was a reception center, “the Hole” (Administrative Segregation), Sensitive Needs Yard reception, and overflow for East Block (Death Row).

In the general population, there were no SNY prisoners, Youth Offender Program, Enhanced Outpatient Program (mental health), transgenders, or hearing impaired inmates.

In 2018, there was a massive shift in the institution’s mission, which transformed San Quentin to a non-designated programming facility, so anyone could program there.

“I think [Realignment] was a good idea on paper, but the real implementation of it failed,” said Coles-El. “I’ve seen the lockdowns kind of stop. Some days we would wake up to lockdowns.”

“People like to see change,” said Young. In regard to the demolition of San Quentin’s Building 38, to make room for a state-of-the-art education facility, he said “That’s a big change. Watching the construction allows me to imagine the potential change San Quentin has as a rehabilitation center—from a prison.”

Upon reflection, Young spoke of the changes that had momentous and deadly consequences that overcrowding introduced at San Quentin, such as the 2015 Legionnaires outbreak. Later, chicken pox, H1N1 Bird Flu, and Norovirus outbreaks interrupted programs.

Then, in 2020, the Covid-19 pandemic swept through the prison, killing 28 prisoners and one correctional sergeant. “Those are the major [changes] I can remember,” said Young.

“I’ve lost count of the population changes,” said Coles-El. “It’s been so many turnovers. I think—because of Realignment.” Most noticeable, he said, “This generation here, these guys are crazy. They have no respect, no boundaries, and when you call ‘em on it they’re mad about it.”

Like others, Coles-El pushed on. “I got my AA in 2017,” he said, adding he still attends college. “I haven’t missed a semester since January 2012.”

Since Realignment, four wardens have watched over the institution: Kevin R. Chappell, Ron Davis, Ron Broomfield, and today, Chance Andes.

Young’s 35-plus-years journey through the CDCR to San Quentin started in California State Prison Tehachapi, California State Prison Sacramento (New Folsom), Folsom State Prison (Old Folsom), California State Prison Calipatria, and Soledad Central.

“San Quentin is like no other prison I’ve been to,” said Young who earned his AA there, and completed The Last Mile’s audio engineering program. “It’s like a community now, with more programs.”

Realignment was said to be “a historic reform.” Those who arrived at San Quentin in 2011 witnessed the on-site Patten University change to Mt. Tamalpais College; growth of The Last Mile; expansion of San Quentin News to all CDCR prisons; creation of the prison’s Media Center; forums with public officials like district attorneys and more—all precursors to the California Model.

“The goal [of Realignment] was to cut costs, reduce recidivism, and, above all, address inhumane and unconstitutional state prison overcrowding, which was claiming the lives of one imprisoned person every week,” the Center on Juvenile & Criminal Justice reported.

The May 2011 decision by the U.S. Supreme Court, and the October 1, 2011 Assembly Bill 109, signed by then-Governor Jerry Brown “put the state on the path toward compliance with the court order,” Stanford Criminal Justice Center (Stanford Law School) reported.

“One of the things I’ve seen change is there have been more medical alarms than anything else,” said Coles-El. “I attribute that to the older population and terminal conditions. I know a lot of people have cancer, heart conditions, and they’ve had strokes.”

Governor Gavin Newsom’s plan for a rehabilitation center is underway. Outside media, the public, unions, politicians, and officers weigh in—for and against the governor. None of them live at San Quentin, but even its residents sometimes have conflicting opinions.

“Honestly, I think it’s (Rehabilitation) just abolishing the prison in name only,” said Coles-El. “They’re trying to take the name ‘prison’ off prison and call it something else. They still lock us up every night, at 9 o’clock.”

From Realignment to Rehabilitation, Young, Coles-El, and Suon have lived through all the changes at San Quentin. What the future holds for the institution is anyone’s guess—conflicted or not.

“I never thought I would see people playing video games in prison, especially with [custody] staff,” said Coles-El.