San Quentin News

Written By Incarcerated - Advancing Social Justice

LT. ANDERSEN RETIRES

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Lt. Loren Andersen is retiring from San Quentin, the prison where he started his career, after 16 years of service with the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation.
Soon after Andersen left the Navy, he said, he was searching for a job that he felt he could do. Not wanting to be a salesperson or work a regular desk job, he saw San Quentin as a viable option. It is a huge operation, and he found the more he learned, the more interesting the work became.
Soon after he started, Andersen became a Permanent Intermittent Employee (PIE), which allowed him to work throughout the entire prison on all watches.
“It was good at that time because I got to learn where I wanted to work, to see all the different positions and pick where I enjoyed it the most,” said Andersen.
In 1997, in the beginning of his career, Andersen said, the prisons were in transition and the relationship between correctional officers and inmates was strained.
“Over the years that relationship has improved,” he said. “Even through that my approach didn’t change very much. I always tried to be honest and keep the inmate informed.”
Andersen said incarceration is now changing from a strict disciplinary system to one structured on rehabilitation. The part of San Quentin he would change, if he could, would be condemned row.
As for the state’s current standoff over prison overcrowding between Gov. Jerry Brown and federal judges Thelton Henderson, Lawrence K. Karlton, and Stephen Reinheart, Andersen said, the judges should come into the prisons.
“Those judges should visit us here and not make edicts based on arbitrary numbers,” said Andersen. “The prisons aren’t suffering from overcrowding now, two and half years ago we were.”
“I think North Block is 400 design capacity, basically one inmate per cell, but we’ve got two in one cell. If we had one, it would be more civilized, but I think we’re getting by well with double occupancy,” said Andersen.
He said he remembers when San Quentin had inmates double bunked inside North Block in the walkway space called broadways.

“The military was basically discharging people so I chose to complete my present tour and get out”

“That’s what overcrowding was when we had the gym filed with 350 inmates, and we had broadways in every unit: Alpine, Badger, Donner, and West Block,” Andersen said. “Then we had exceeded 6,000 inmates for a while; right now we’re around 4,200.”
“I’m Navy retired, I wanted to fly when I got out of college, so I joined, but I got out in the early ‘90s. This was just after the cold war. Actually when the USSR dissolved, there was a draw down in the military,” explained Andersen.
“The military was basically discharging people so I chose to complete my present tour and get out,” Andersen said. “I fulfilled my 20 years, but I still think about it and miss it.”
Andersen commented that the people he admired in his career were San Quentin Wardens Jeanne Woodford, Mike Martell and Kevin Chappell.
“They all have very upbeat and positive personalities. So does Correctional Counselor Mike McGarvey,” Andersen explained. “He had that honesty, a way of looking through things and going by the law.”
Right now Andersen said he is ready to do three things: relax golf and focus on his family.
“They’re the most important part my life, I’ve given time to my country, I’ve given time to San Quentin, and now it’s time for the people I love–and that’s my family,” said Andersen.

Erroneous Documents Lengthen Prisoner’s Manslaughter Sentence

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When Henry Newman, 66, was sentenced to 21 years for inadvertently killing his son Alex, he was unaware the court used erroneous documents to give him a longer sentence for voluntary manslaughter.
Newman claims this evidence consists of two court cases attributed to him, which did not actually occur. These established him as being on probation at the time of the hearing, which caused his sentence to be longer than it otherwise would have been. The court also overlooked an important ballistics report that was favorable to his case.
On July 3, 2004, Newman got into a heated discussion with his son over the care of his granddaughter, Kilexia. Newman said he and Alex were discussing injuries Kilexia had allegedly sustained at her other great grandparents’ house.
“Alex was being verbally abusive to me. He would drive away and come back. He repeated this process about three or four times,” Newman said he shot at the back of his son’s vehicle while it was still parked in front of his house, hoping that it would coerce him into leaving.
“I aimed directly over the right rear tire, and the bullet traveled to the left through everything and hit my son,” Newman said. “When Alex got to the end of the street, he was dead at the wheel.”
“I killed my son, Alex Newman, but it was unintentional. Forensic Ballistic expert Lawrence L. Baggett proved what I had confessed to in his report,” Newman said.
Baggett’s report concluded that a person, who is not familiar with the general power and penetration capabilities of a firearm, might assume that the steel fender of a vehicle would be sufficient to stop a bullet.
“Mr. Baggett’s report was concealed from me. My public defender, Carolyn Disabatino, didn’t bring it out in court,” said Newman. “I got it in 2009, four years after my sentencing, when I put in a request for my entire case file.”
In his interview with San Quentin News, Newman produced two sets of minute order transcripts from the Long Beach Superior Court in California. One set of transcripts, case number 1LL04524, places him in a 13-month superior court trial for a misdemeanor at 8:30 a.m. The second set of transcripts, case number 9LL10915, puts him in a one-day hearing, on the same day, also at 8:30 a.m.
But neither of these case numbers correspond with Newman’s actual hearing.
“The only court hearing I actually appeared in on that day was my arraignment case, and my judge was Arthur Jean Jr. in case number NA061974,” he said. “And all three different cases are dated for the same day—July 7, 2004.”
Newman insists that his voluntary manslaughter sentence is based on this erroneous evidence. Newman said the court used case number 1LL04524 to place him on a two-year summary probation.
“That’s not true, because for case number 1LL04524, I was never in any courtroom to be placed on summary probation,” he explained. “Nor was I ever represented by Deputy Pubic Defender William B. Clark in any court hearing. Yet the court’s minute orders reflect that all this took place.”
During his sentencing hearing, Newman tried to inform Judge Jean Jr. of the fraudulent information regarding the phantom hearings.
“I said, ‘your Honor, I wasn’t aware,’ then he quickly interrupted me, saying, ‘the court finds a factor in aggravation that you were on probation at the time and that you did unsatisfactorily on probation.’”
Newman explained that he tried a second time to inform the court, but his efforts were rejected again.
“The judge immediately pronounced sentence, saying, ‘this court chooses the high base term of 10 years with respect to the gun allegation and is to be served consecutively to the 11 year term for a 21 year term.’”
Prior to his conviction, Newman says the closest he ever got to the legal system was in his role as community activist for his neighborhood.
“I spearheaded a campaign to make a McDonald’s restaurant they were closing into a Long Beach Police Substation,” Newman said. “I met frequently with Long Beach Police Chief Anthony Batts to discuss the plan.”
Newman has now been in prison for nine years.

John Curzon Becomes New Acting Chief Deputy Warden

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John Curzon takes his 26 years of experience with the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation to greater heights as San Quentin’s new Acting Chief Deputy Warden.
Curzon did not follow the usual professional track by coming in as a correctional officer when he began his career working in a state prison. He began in food services.
“I started out as a supervising cook in food services,” he said. “I came up in the business services side of the house.”
Curzon said he worked for approximately 13 years in that position and those years, along with the work experience he gained, has helped him with his current position.
“It’s about so much, especially listening and being in the moment because in my position I deal with so many different people,” he said.
It was his brother Joe who encouraged Curzon to relocate to California and get a job with the state.
“My brother recently retired after putting in 30 years. Joe was working in corrections when it was just called the California Department of Corrections,” Curzon explained.
With different duties, Curzon said his new position calls for him to work closely with San Quentin’s Warden Kevin Chappell.
“My role really is to support the warden’s goals and the vision he holds as the warden of San Quentin,” said Curzon.
“Part of that role is to ensure San Quentin is prepared for the new challenges heading its way,” Curzon said. He believes the challenges come from the number of new inmates coming to the prison and issues surrounding the reduction of California’s overcrowded prison population.
“For those inmates coming here it’s a great opportunity to see how institutions that have programs operate,” Curzon said. “And our staff and everyone is handling it fine. We’ve seen San Quentin at an inmate count of 6,000. It’s not posted any challenges at this point.”

Acting Chief Deputy Warden John Curzon and Carlos Meza at the 2013 Avon Breast Cancer Walk

Acting Chief Deputy Warden John Curzon
and Carlos Meza at the 2013 Avon Breast Cancer Walk


On Sept.16, Attorney General Kamala D. Harris filed a defendant’s request for an extension of the Dec. 31 deadline and status report. This report is in response to the order by three Federal Judges, Thelton Henderson, Lawrence K. Karlton, and Stephen Reinheart.
The Judges orders require the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation to reduce the prison population to 137.5 percent of design capacity by Jan. 27, 2014.
“As to any political grumbling about the Governor, I think his office has a good handle on the direction that we’re going,” the Acting Chief Deputy Warden said.
Known for being the prison by the bay, San Quentin is also home to more than 700 inmates housed on Death Row. He said in his position one of his responsibilities is to carry out and uphold the law.
“I believe the voters have spoken on the death penalty in California,” he explained.
One point the Acting Chief Deputy Warden made was that the department has a responsibility to ensure public safety continues once inmates are released from prison.
“Education is the key to that,” Curzon explained. “From the moment inmates come in, until the moment they leave, we must make sure they are better educated because inmates have a higher probability of being successful if they have a higher education.”
As for California’s recidivism issues, Curzon said he thinks it is a combination of things.
“I think it’s also education, but we also have to focus on what originally brought them here,” he said.
Inmates have to have the education and skills when they leave, said Curzon. He thinks the department is doing well addressing the issue.
“The department, under the leadership of Dr. Jeffery Beard, is doing a good job of addressing rehabilitative programs,” Curzon said.
Moreover, San Quentin has educational programs where the inmates can get GEDs, high school diplomas, or AA degrees from the Prison University Project, Curzon explained.
“I think San Quentin is so fortunate to have the generosity and resources of our volunteers,” said Curzon. “We are the blueprint for other institutions.”
Curzon’s co-workers enjoy working with him.
According to Chaplain Mardi Jackson, “He’s a man of few words but a man of integrity.”
Vice Principal of Robert E. Burton’s Adult School of Education Marci Ficarra says, “He’s always been a great listener and kind; I feel heard when I’ve had discussions with him. I think he’s got a very calm demeanor, which is necessary in this environment.”
As for the Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation discontinuing the prison building boon.
In the 1990s, early in his career, Curzon said he watched the building of prisons slow down.
“I don’t think the lack of building prisons will create a perpetual prison crisis in California,” said Curzon. “I think Governor Brown, the Secretary and the legislature have a good plan and vision for CDCR,” Curzon said.

Conley Dukes Earns Freedom After More Then 30 Years in Prison

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After more than 30 years in prison, Conley Dukes was paroled and one of his first stops was to wade in the Pacific Ocean and say a prayer for the brother who helped him turn his life around.
When Dukes was first incarcerated at Old Folsom in the 1980s for kidnap robbery, his life was an extension of the life he led on the streets.
He sold drugs and hung with a bad crowd.
“I was incarcerated in the days when prison gangs … controlled the yards,” said Dukes.
He reported he used drugs regularly in prison and violated many prison rules.
“Prison was an extension of what I was doing on the streets. I was into smoking weed, cigarettes, and I had a criminal mentality. It was my way or the highway,” Dukes commented.
It was not just his addiction to drugs, but his lifestyle was about manipulation, violence and getting things his own way. When Dukes went to his first parole board hearing, he said he did not have a leg to stand on. He had 18 serious rule violations, all related to drugs.
“I went in there and I didn’t care on my first three board appearances. I just sent my identification card,” he explained.
Dukes spent 31 years in prison on a sentence of seven to life and when the parole board found him suitable, he discovered the power to forgive himself.
He said when he stepped into the parole board, he told God that whatever the outcome, he would be OK.
“The first words out of the commissioner’s mouth were ‘Mr. Dukes, we no longer find you a threat to society,’” Dukes said.
He recalled he blinked a few times and started to cry; it was like society had forgiven him and it all started when he forgave himself.
“I started gushing; seriously, my heart was overflowing,” Dukes said. “It’s hard to describe, it’s a feeling you have to go through”.
In 1982 Dukes was convicted of kidnap robbery yet he was eligible for parole in 1996 meaning that he could have possibly received a release date.
“But that didn’t happen. Here I am 16 years after my minimum eligible release date and I was finally found suitable after changing my life around,” Dukes said.
Dukes arrived at San Quentin in 2005 after three years in Jamestown State Prison.
He said Jamestown was a good place for him because, while there, he was able to learn a trade in the Prison Industry Authority (PIA).
“I learned machine sewing, and I got certified to work with the machines,” said Dukes. “I was basically doing fabric sewing.”
While in administrative segregation, he began writing his brother, Skip, who had inherited 10.5 acres of land in Twain Heart, Calif.
“My brother knew I was in the hole behind drugs and he told me ‘if I didn’t quit using heroin that he didn’t want me up there on our property,” Dukes said. “That really stuck me deep.”
When he got out of the (Ad-Seg) Dukes said he quit using drugs and started turning his life around.
“Before that, I spent 16 years on level four yards. I did 10 years at Old Folsom and six at High Desert,” Dukes said. “Eventually my points came down and I went to Corcoran, where I ended up in the hole.”
“When I got to Jamestown and got my trade, I enrolled in Narcotics Anonymous in 2002, I continued it when I got here,” said Dukes.
He continued to do his sewing in the old San Quentin laundry. He also attended San Quentin’s Kairos Christian retreat.
“No seed had been planted and after my dad was killed, I pulled away from religion,” Dukes said. “I’ve always had a belief in God within me; I just got lost.”
Dukes said he now believes the California Board process has matured because now it is centered more on what a person is doing and not so much of who you are.
What helped him uncover his shortcomings were San Quentin’s self-help programs: Victim Offender Education Group, (VOEG), Positive Attitude, The Work and Kairos, Dukes said.
“It took me three quarters of my life to find my authentic self and, through God and my church, I’m on track,” Dukes said. “When I get out, I’m going to go to the beach and put my feet in the ocean and say a prayer for Skip (who has died). I love him and I miss him.”
Dukes paroled and he did put his feet in the ocean and he did say a prayer for his brother.

Proposition 36 Still Beneficial to Many Prisoners

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After spending nearly two decades in prison under California’s the Three Strikes Law, Chrisfino Kenyatta Leal went home from San Quentin a free man under California’s Proposition 36.
“I knew that one day my number was going to be called and I would have the opportunity to be released,” Leal said.
With that knowledge in mind, he made a commitment to do everything that he could to be prepared for that moment.
“I got my Associates of Arts degree from the Prison University Project while I was in San Quentin and I enrolled in several other self-help programs,” said Leal. “I was involved with No More Tears, VOEG and a few others.”
Leal, 44, was sentenced to 25- years-to-life for possession of a firearm. He was released after 19 years in prison.
Voters approved Proposition 184, commonly referred to as “Three Strikes and You’re Out,” in 1994. It gave longer sentences to certain repeat offenders and mandated that a person convicted of a felony who had previously been convicted of one or more violent or serious felonies be sentenced to state prison. The minimum prison term was an automatic sentence of 25 years to life.
“For a long time I blamed the law, and the way it’s applied, for the problems I was looking at and the time I was facing,” said Leal. “But in actuality, it wasn’t the law that gave me the time; it was me. I’m the one who put myself in the position to be struck out.”
Leal said his confinement in the Pelican Bay Prison’s Security Housing Unit triggered the transformation in his life.
“I thought to myself that I could spend the rest of my life in a prison within a prison, or I could start taking control of my life and move toward freedom — mentally, emotionally, spiritually and physically,” Leal said.
“Going to Pelican Bay helped me clearly identify my priorities and develop a program that would help me achieve them on a daily basis,” he added.
One way Leal did that was by committing himself to San Quentin’s program called The Last Mile. It is a program designed to teach incarcerated men about the world of social media, entrepreneurship and teamwork.
“My role has been two-fold — first, as a participant in the program and giving a 150 percent to the process. The second part of that was I work as an evangelist for The Last Mile inside San Quentin,” he commented.
“The Last Mile emphasizes collaboration, cohesion and creativity and all of us who have participated were able to accomplish that.”
On April 18, Leal was honored with a “Shorty Award” in the category of Quora Answer of the Year. Quora is a website that permits users to ask and answer questions about noteworthy issues in society and social media.
Due to his incarceration, Leal could not accept his award in person, so The Last Mile creators Chris Redlitz and Beverly Parenti went to New York and accepted it on his behalf.
“The Last Mile was started when Chris Redlitz came into San Quentin with Kathleen Jackson,” Leal explained. “He did a talk about entrepreneurism, then Chris and Beverly actually came to a San Quentin Trust graduation. From there, the Last Mile was started.”
Leal explained that The Last Mile has helped him develop a fundamental skill set that is going to open doors for a new career in the free world.
“ The name of my tech company is called Coach Potato and one of my goals is to have it in the app’s store soon,” he said.
“ Every man that leaves prison and doesn’t come back serves as an example for those of us that are in here,” said Leal. “Those guys who get out and don’t come back are beacons of light they raise the hope for us.”
“It gives people on the outside a different set of facts to formulate their opinion. It allows people on the outside to see that we have redeemable qualities,” Leal said. “It shows that if given the right opportunities, that we can be productive members of society.”
“I know that there are many men doing life in prison who have done the work necessary to successfully reintegrate back into society,” he said. “Many of the positive lessons I’ve learned were taught to me by lifers. And studies show that lifers have the lowest recidivism rate of all people leaving incarcerated settings.”
After doing 19 years, he said his first goal is to re-connect with his family.
“They’ve done all the years with me,” Leal said. “They never wavered and they supported me every step of the way.”
His other goal is to establish himself in the business community. Leal said he wants to create opportunities for other men leaving prison. As for The Last Mile program, he said he definitely will be working with its leaders.
“Absolutely, yes. The Last Mile is more than just a program; it’s a fraternity of men and women committed to empowerment and success in life out side of prison,” said Leal.

Prisoner Teaches Others the Skills of Construction Work

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San Quentin inmate Wendell Forest has worked at several prisons in the construction trade; now he pays it forward by teaching others what his stepdad taught him the skill of laying cement.
“It’s therapy for our minds and it keeps us focused on positive things. We work hard and put the same expertise into our work as we would if we were free because someday we will be.” Forest said.
Forest comes from a long line of tradesmen, and when both of his brothers saw he was serious about construction, they helped him further his skills. Yet, it was his step-dad who got him into construction.
“Yeah, my brothers took me to a different level but my step-dad taught me the trade–basically we did framing. I worked a lot with him and I learned a great deal from him too.”
Incarcerated for six years, Forest has been at San Quentin for a year and a half and he is using his skills to help other inmates learn the cement trade.
“It’s kind of like paying it forward, like passing it onto somebody else,” said Forest. “I’m using what my step-father taught me and I’m teaching other people the same.”
While he was at Vacaville State Prison, Forest said he worked in the construction program 1994-95, refurbishing all the baseball diamonds at a Vacaville park.
One of Forest’s protégés, Michael Hampton, said he never did any construction work prior to arriving in prison 16 years ago. In his job interview, the supervisor asked him if he worked on a construction site before.
“I said no, but if you give me a sledge hammer, I will bust up whatever it is you need me to bust up. He hired me right there on the spot and I was given the opportunity to work as a laborer,” Hampton said.
Hampton, who has been at San Quentin for four years, said he has learned from guys like Paul Lombardi, the site foreman; his supervisor, Michel (pron: Meeshell); and Correctional Officer Gossett.
“The experience that I have, I bring in here for the men to learn it, because one day they’re gonna’ get out and they can use it,” said the supervisor.
“Mike’s taught me a lot about concrete making, cement finishing and how to use the tools safely,” Hampton explained. Prior to coming to prison he sold drugs, and was in a gang, but now he is learning a trade and communication skills, Hampton said.
“I work with people of different nationalities and backgrounds,” Hampton said. “That’s the communication I’m talking about — learning how to listen and growing from there.”
Building Inspector Shane Dickerson, who has worked in the trade for about 42 years, said he finds the project rewarding because the men at San Quentin are very skilled.
“My philosophy is: These men have already been judged and sentenced by someone else,” Dickerson said. “I judge them by how they perform on my worksite; if they work like men, I treat them like men.”
The inmate construction crew recently built a pad for the Magnetic Resonance Imaging (MRI) trailer truck for the Lower Yard.
Officer Gossett has been doing construction projects at San Quentin on and off for a little over 10 years. Gossett said the completion of the pad will improve the delivery of inmates’ medical services.
“I’ve worked here for 11 years and there’s been a lot of expansion around this prison,” Gossett said. “I’m fortunate because I’ve seen the changes of San Quentin and it feels like being a part of history.”
Should the opportunity come, Hampton said he now knows about framing, concrete finishing, fencing and how to use the jack hammer for demolition.
“And I’m learning more daily because I’m working with guys like Forest, who doesn’t mind teaching if a person is willing to learn,” Hampton said.

California Innocence Project Lawyers Fight to Free 12 Prisoners

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Twelve California prison inmates are working to gain their freedom, thanks to the help of a group of lawyers called the California Innocence Project.
To draw public attention to their work, three members of the group walked 700 miles from San Diego to Sacramento in June.
“I would never walk 700 miles if I did not believe all of these people are innocent,” said Alyssa Bjerkhoel, one of the group’s attorneys. “Each case is unique and has its own injustices; I do not doubt the innocence march or the innocence of these clients.”
“Our court system is set up to favor jury decisions and uphold convictions even in light of doubts about someone’s guilt,” Bjerkhoel explained.
“Once you’re convicted, there is a presumption that the conviction is valid and it’s extremely hard to overcome that presumption,” said Bjerkhoel. “Moreover, on direct appeal, the appellate courts, and supreme courts are limited to considering only evidence adduced at trial.”
Many times, the wrongful conviction is not obvious from the records or there is no indication of a constitutional violation, she added.
“It’s usually not until we conduct an extensive investigation into a case and discover evidence not in the record, that the courts are finally aware of the injustice,” said Bjerkhoel.
In discussing the courts, Bjerkhoel said the Anti-Terrorism and Effective Death Penalty Act (AEDPA) changed habeas law forever. It severely limited the ability of state prisoners to bring their cases to court, she said.
“Who was going to vote against the ‘AEDPA’ right after the Oklahoma City bombing? No one,” Bjerkhoel said.
She explained that when her organization goes to federal court in an innocence case, there are a slew of obstacles to overcome.
“First, the highest court must have heard all the claims we are bringing in federal court.
“Second, the petitioner must file the habeas petition within AEDPA’s one-year statute of limitations,” said Bjerkhoel. “If not, we have a whole separate hearing on our client’s innocence before we can present the constitutional violations.
“Third, they have to show the state court was unreasonable in its application of clearly defined federal law, which is almost an impossible burden,” Bjerkhoel said. “Because of this, most of our cases are litigated in state court.”
The California Innocence Project is based at California Western School of Law in San Diego. It investigates claims of wrongful convictions in Southern California counties, explained Bjerkhoel.
“We receive roughly 2,000 claims of innocence per year. Of those 2,000 cases, we launch investigations into roughly 50 cases. Of those 50, maybe one or two will actually go to court,” she stated.
“The California 12 were clients weeded out from those 2,000-a-year cases over the 13 years of our office’s existence where we truly believe these individuals are innocent,” she said.
One of the 12 is the case of a San Quentin resident, Guy Miles.
“I was sentenced to life for robbing a Fidelity Financial in Fullerton, California,” said Miles. “The basics of my case came down to eyewitness testimony, and they were all wrong because I was living in Las Vegas, Nevada when the robbery happened.”
Bjerkhoel said her boss, Justin Brooks, the director of the California Innocence Project and law professor at California Western School of Law, came up with the idea for the march.
The walk was held because some of the cases being litigated for years cannot seem to get clients out through the courts, she said. Three of the 12 have actually had their convictions reversed and subsequently reinstated by the appellate courts, she added.
“It’s hard to put into words how many hours we have spent preparing for the innocence march,” said Bjerkhoel. “We’ve spent countless hours litigating these cases before we decided to take them to the governor.”
Bjerkhoel said they experienced many challenges during the walk: back and knee pain, extensive blisters, allergic reactions, 50-mile-per-hour winds, extreme heat and extreme cold.
Bjerkhoel said most of her thoughts were of their clients and that it was their strength that kept her going.
“I am not sure I would have the faith to press on if I was in their situation. I admire their courage in the face of extreme odds.”
–JulianGlenn Padgett

Vice Principal Beebe Heads Rehabilitation

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The San Quentin education program is expanding after severe budget cuts in recent years. Leading the changes is Tony Beebe, acting principal of the prison’s Robert Burton Adult School.
“The statistics are very clear,” said Beebe. “If you get an education while in prison, recidivism rates drop.”
When people argue against educating, the incarcerated and the benefits that can come from it, Beebe speaks from experience.
“My argument is: educating the incarcerated works. The question is: what’s the price we are willing to pay for failing to do it?” he said. “For me personally, that price is too high.”
In 2004, Beebe began working at San Quentin. Subsequently, he transferred to California Medical Facility for about two years, returning to San Quentin in 2012. “I was the vice principal at CMF and it was really excellent,” he said. “It was one of the best learning experiences I’ve ever had.”
Discussing educational history, Beebe said education was denied to African-Americans but it was forced on Native Americans. “I’m from the Tsalagi (Cherokee Indian) nation, as my mother, my grandmother and all of my great-grandmothers,” he explains. “Children were taken from their tribes and beaten if they didn’t learn the language, but that has not affected my outlook on correctional education.”

“If you get an education while in prison, recidivism rates drop”

A graduate of Sacramento State University, Beebe received a degree in education administration. He said his style of leadership is to adjust to the situation and assume everyone is professional and doing what is expected of him or her.
“My hand is expected to be on the wheel and in some cases my influence will be applied to get the desired outcome,” he said. “My tendency is not to hinder people. If you’re doing a great job, you’ll not hear from me.”
“We do have two new vocational instructors, Mr. Ronald Romo and Mr. Dante Callegari,” said Beebe. “Mr. Romo is our electronics teacher. Mr. Callegari is the building maintenance instructor.”
“We are approved for 12 computers to be delivered and installed,” he said. The computers were bought with federal funds; and will be used to assist prisoners seeking GEDs (high school equivalencies), and college degrees.
Beebe said he expects the separate computer literacy program will be open in August. “It will be serving about 70 percent of eligible inmates,” Beebe said.

Proposition 36 Helps Another 3-Striker

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Michael Bernstein is one of many California inmates convicted under the Three Strikes Law, but he has been given a second chance at freedom after the state passed Proposition 36.
“I’m not in prison for violence against anyone. I’m in prison because I was in possession of eight grams of methamphetamines,” Bernstein said. “It was for my own personal use. I wasn’t selling it at all.”
Bernstein said it was in mid-October 2012 when he found out that he qualified for release under Proposition 36 if the judge found him suitable. Bernstein said he felt like he was being sentenced again.
“I had been bitten once with Proposition 66 under then-Gov. Schwarzenegger,” Bernstein said. “Once Proposition 36 passed, I was excited.”
Bernstein, 48, has been in prison since Jan. 5, 1995.
He said his legal troubles started when he began drinking alcohol and smoking marijuana at age 12 or 13.
“Then, in high school, that progressed into using other drugs, like Christmas trees and black beauties.” Bernstein said. “These were the names of pills. They’re all uppers.”
Bernstein said he was not running toward something or away from anything. He was looking for the rush and did not realize possessing eight grams of meth would constitute a third strike.
“I didn’t know until my arraignment. That’s when reality set in, when the district attorney said this is a three-strikes case,” Bernstein said.
While in county jail, he married his fiancé and was eventually brought back to Santa Clara County for a re-sentencing hearing to eliminate a strike after his conviction.
“Even my lawyer at the time thought I would get out,” Bernstein said. “The judge said my case deserves to have the strike dropped.”
However, the judge did not drop the strike.“There was anger – lots of it – when I was done with my … hearing,” Bernstein said.
Five years later he and his wife were divorced.
While in prison, Bernstein got his GED, vocation certificates in electronics and computer refurbishing.
“I stayed busy and got some trades. For most of my time I wasn’t able to do any self-help groups because the majority of prisons aren’t like San Quentin. They didn’t have any self-help groups,” Bernstein said.
“The great thing is my attorney found a program for me called Calvary Chapel,” Bernstein said. “It’s a sober-living house, and she’s already got me a bed.”
Bernstein walked out of San Quentin on March 22.

Ex-San Quentin Teacher Heads New Education Program in Illinois

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Before she was a professor at the University of Illinois, Rebecca Ginsburg helped educate San Quentin prisoners. Now, she is building on those experiences to bring college classes to prisoners in Danville, Ill.
The Education Justice Program (EJP) offers classes in the Danville Correctional Center including how to teach English as a second language, science, cultural writing workshops, history, statistics, linguistics and engineering. Inmates can earn college credits but cannot as of yet get degrees.
Ginsburg, a professor of education policy organization and landscape architecture at the University of Illinois, co-founded EJP and serves as its director.“The state of Illinois had a long history of being in the forefront of offering higher education in prisons,” Ginsburg said. “Today the only place (in Illinois) where inmates can receive upper-level classes is at the Danville facility.”
While she was a graduate student at the University of California at Berkeley, Ginsburg came to San Quentin to teach in an inmate education program similar to EJP.
“At one time, programs like EJP were widespread, but in 1994 the Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act eliminated Pell Grants for prisoners,” Ginsburg said. “Today, only a handful of programs like EJP remain.”
With approximately 50 to 60 faculty, volunteers, student and staff, EJP is driven by its concerns about the cost of imprisonment and the financial and emotional effects on prisoners’ families and community. Funding for the program comes from grants and donations.
Ginsburg said EJP believes in prison education as the tool to address those concerns.
“It allows you to stimulate your mind and reminds you of the good nature of society,” said Emile Santiago, 40, a student in EJP. Santiago’s EJP class schedule includes film noir, theater, other education classes and Shakespeare. “We have a tremendous respect and admiration for the instructors. It reminds you that people are good.”
For inmates to enroll, they must have a high school diploma or its equivalent. “It’s not often that a major university knocks on our door and offers us the opportunity to have free programs and upper-level education opportunities,” said Debbie Denning, chief of program and support services for the Danville prison. “It’s a win-win for everyone.”
Ginsburg says EJP’s year-round offering of classes, discussions, workshops and other opportunities has earned great admiration from inmates and administrators in the Illinois Department of Corrections.
“Instructors talk about the project as changing their orientation to the world, the way they teach, the way they learn their ideas about who they are and what they can accomplish,” Ginsburg said.
 

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