I first came to prison in 1969. After five years of being incarcerated, I escaped from San Quentin State Prison and fled to South America where I lived in self-imposed exile for 20 years. In 1994, I voluntarily surrendered to U.S. authorities and was brought back to San Quentin to serve out the remainder of my “life sentence.” I have now been in prison for 25 years.
Although my life experience has definitely shaped my “OG” perspective, this column is not about my life story. It’s not about my political views, my prison escape or the many years I’ve spent in South America. Rather, this column provides a conversational space and an open invitation to the younger generation to consider and engage an “OG’s” perspective.
I have not walked the streets of this country in 45 years. So I won’t pretend to have some kind of “guru-insight” into the minds of young people and their activities outside these prison walls. But I do want to find effective and informative ways of utilizing this “OG” column to raise relevant questions about the culture of violence and encourage serious dialogue on a number of critical issues.
Why should you listen to me? First of all, I’m a father, grandfather and great-grandfather, and a man who feels partially responsible for and concerned about the destructive and devastating historical disconnections that have occurred between the generations. I use this “OG” column to explore and address the critical consequences when one generation drops or doesn’t pass on the historical baton. I consider myself an “OG” who has picked up that baton, and I’m charged and challenged with the responsibility of finding creative ways of handing it off to the next generation.
You should listen to me because I have something relevant and important to say. I have life-experiences that I must emphasize and pass on to the younger generation. You should listen because I have some personal and vital information about respect, family, community, and the historical bridges that carried us over. As an “OG”, I believe in human equality, social justice and peace, and I have come to realize that all forms of violence, no matter how it is justified, eventually consumes the human spirit and undermines the very purpose it is intended for.
CHANGING DEFINITION:
Now I realize that the term “OG” does not have the same meaning today as it used to have. Its meaning has shifted over the years. The original use of “OG” stood for “Original Gangster.” From its inception “OG” had a specific meaning. It first began as a title of respect from former gang members who “paid their dues” and earned the status of “OGs” in their “hoods.” However, just being an older man “from” the hood wouldn’t automatically qualify one as an “OG”. To earn the title “OG” you would have had to acquire at least three things: reputation, insight, and a distinguished manner in which you conduct yourself.
However, the meaning of the term “OG” has changed over the years. In its current usage, the term “OG” implies a broader category. While retaining its title of respect in popular culture, “OG” is now equivalent to the word “elder” or the courtesy afforded an older person as in the use of “Mister.” This deference today is based largely upon age, not necessarily on reputation, insight or how one conducts himself. An “OG” can be an old fool.
“OG”, as I’m using it in this column, comes from a particular time period and out of a specific set of experiences. It emanates from a certain mindset shaped by the social and political movements of the 1960s. “OG” (as it’s being used here) stands for “Old Guard.” These “OGs” today (too often silent) are now in their sixties and early seventies. This writer himself is sixty-five years of age, an elder with the determination, responsibility, patience and courage to engage and not give up on our youth.
This column is open to suggestions, and when you see me on the yard or in the unit, you are welcome to give feedback on topics that you think an “OG’s” viewpoint can illuminate.
