Editor’s Note: Two days before his release from San Quentin, where he was a leader in the formation and operation of many self-help groups, Ernest Morgan discussed how 24 years in prison changed him. This is the first of a two-part story.
Looking forward to your release on the day before your birthday, what is that like for you?
The word that continues to come to mind is “incredible.” For 24 years I have waited for this day to come. I was waiting for the wrong reasons: greed and selfishness. It’s funny somewhere in the 24 years, a change occurred, a lot of pain, a lot of unhappy times. I was trying to find myself somewhere in the middle of all that. Going home wasn’t important to me. My parents told me that I couldn’t be the same person I was when I came in. I wanted to know who I was.
When did you go through your transition to the person that you’ve become today?
It was a long process. Did you see the movie “Ghost Busters II?” It showed all of the anger that was lying beneath the surface in the city. It’s like blood flowing beneath the body. On the outside I was showing I was making the change to move from the old Ernest. I was moving away. And on the inside I knew where the anger was. A lot of my anger was toward my mother. That came to a head when my mother decided she didn’t want to have anything to do with me. She said, “I have to treat you like a hand in poker and fold because you’re not doing me any good right now. Maybe I’ll pick up this hand again.” That hurt hearing my mother say this, after decades of her calling me her baby, but afterward that helped me. It gave me the opportunity to focus on myself.
During this process I was listening to people talking in other self-help groups. I was listening to my own words as I facilitated these types of groups. What is triggering my anger toward my mother? Everybody has a story. I started to tell myself that my father and mother didn’t love me. I think the most important thing to me at that time was to be free–not to be in prison, not looking at the enormous impact my crime had on my family and society. When dealing with the Board of Parole Hearings, I was a machine. But when mom stepped away, I had to cry and accept my feelings. Now it’s like a badge of honor–the anger that I had–because I can transition from the angry little man to who I am today. Hopefully, in 24 hours I will be a free man, and I am happy it’s here, but the biggest thing about that is–now the work begins.
Part 2 of this story will be published in the next edition of the San Quentin News.
