KID CAT – Page 2

Oakland Police Chief delivers apology at SQ Barbershop Forum

September 16, 2019 by Juan Haines

Oakland Police Department’s Police Chief Jane Kirkpatrick with KTVU Fox 2’s Paul Chambers

Oakland Police Chief Jane Kirkpatrick delivered an encouraging message of respect, hope and an apology for law enforcement misdeeds to more than 200 San Quentin prisoners looking forward to freedom.

“We have a future and hope together,” Kirkpatrick said. “You will be given an opportunity for restoration and you will be welcomed home.

“When you come home, you will be home and you will have a police department that, as long as I am their chief, will address you with respect by your name.”

Lt. Bobby Hookfin, a native of Oakland, talked about the “historic mistrust” between the community and the police — mistrust rooted in “enforcing unjust laws.”

Participant Arthur Jackson speaking with a District Attorney

“We know that — but we’re establishing trust across the nation,” Hookfin said. “We want to recognize that there’s no finish line to public trust. It doesn’t end here, once you’re released, it continues to build to make our community better – did you hear, our community better.”

Kirkpatrick and Hookfin spoke July 26 at the second Barbershop Dialogue held at San Quentin. There have been more than a dozen dialogues held in the San Francisco Bay Area.

Barbershop Dialogues came about after a BART police officer killed Oscar Grant on New Year’s Eve, 2009.

One of those attending was Jack Bryson, whose two sons were with Grant when he was shot. Bryson said he wanted to take action about the strained relationship between the police and the Bay Area community. He teamed up with Oakland police officers Captain Michael Carroll and Hookfin to provide spaces for conversations about how policing affect communities.

A couple of years into the dialogues, television reporter Paul Chambers (KTVU) began airing the meetings. District attorneys, police officers, criminal justice reform advocates, formerly incarcerated, as well as incarcerated individuals, sat together and talked.

“It is my great honor to be here and thank each of you,” Kirkpatrick told the audience. She turned to Bryson, adding, “Jack, on behalf of police, I want to say I’m sorry and I want your forgiveness.” There was immediately a hush, followed by a collective, “Wow!”

Jack Bryson with formerly incarcerated Donald “DC” Barlow

Chambers asked Kirkpatrick why she apologized to Jack and told the prison- ers they would be welcomed home.

“We have caused some hurt and harm,” Kirkpatrick said. “Everybody in this room has hurt someone. I don’t want to forget that there are victims that we hurt and we need to learn to say we’re sorry. Then we need to make amends through actions and not cheap words. Many of you have never heard, ‘We’re sorry.’ It matters. That’s why it’s important.”

Several San Quentin prisoners responded to Kirkpatrick’s apology.

“I had no respect for law enforcement until that lady got up there and said what she said,” Troy “Talib” Young said. “At 7-years-old, I watched my father being beat up by LAPD. Her apology changed my life.”

Timothy Hicks said, “I’m from Oakland. To know that she’s the chief of Oakland, my community, and to get a verbal apology – to have been harmed – to hear that from someone of such high ranking is humbling.”

Paul Salseda commented, “That was very profound because you can’t begin a healing process without an apology. We can’t even begin to move forward in our lives until we come to some type of repentance in our hearts and say ‘I’m sorry’ to our communities, our families. For someone at the top to express that is huge. We have the chief to say that and say when you come home; we have a spot for you in the community.”

Kevin Neang gave an apol- ogy to the victims of his crime and all the people that he hurt.

“It’s not the title that made it powerful,” Neang said. “She removed the chief label and just reminded us that we’re all human. The whole world — the system — wants us to be accountable and to hold your- self accountable; you have to see yourself as a human.”

Kirkpatrick responded, “My heart and soul is to heal all of us together. I do recog- nize that I’m in a chapel and I want us to have a future and hope. I want to be a part of the change.”

She added, “I know a fake. I can smell them from afar. I have no time or energy for cheap talk. We need to heal. Thank you, Kevin, for saying, ‘I’m sorry.’”

working with returned residents through Developing Impacted Lives (DIL).” She said she would accept suggestions from “anywhere and anyone” that would help pre- vent the youth from going to prison.

Benoit said he tells incarcerated youngsters who are struggling, “There’s a differ- ent path and a different way. You don’t have to wait; check out SQUIRES and KidCAT.”

Chambers asked, “What about the hard-headed kids. How could you get in their head?”

Benoit responded, “The only people who talked to me then were still doing wrong. So, the real issue is getting them talking to former or incarcerated people.”

Kenneth Vernon, 47, proposed teaching young people “emotional intelligence.”

He said he came to prison at age 23.

“At that time, nothing would have impacted my choice,” Vernon said.

He said emotional intelligence allows individuals to “recognize what you’re feeling in your body. If I would have had something like that in school, it would have been a great help.”

Also present was former San Quentin News staffer Miguel Quezada, who paroled almost two years ago.

“It’s going to get great out there,” said Quezada to the audience that included several men who did time with him. “It’s important for people to hear your voices and understand what you’re doing to get out of here.”

After Chambers observed there were “a lot of district attorneys in here,” the conversa- tion shifted to preventing the youth from coming to prison.

Isaiah Caldwell, a father of three, asked if someone like him, who is serving a life sentence, could collaborate with programs geared to serving at-risk youth.

“Can we talk to the youth and tell them what they’re facing?” Caldwell asked. “They would listen to us because our fathers were missing, too — they’ll listen to us.”

Troy Young got up again to talk about being a reformed gang member from Los Ange- les. He offered his life experience to share the realities of prison.

“We have to stop them out there,” Young said. He turned to the district attorneys and asked,“How can we work together?”

Jill Klinge, a top district attorney for Alameda County said, “In our office, we’re working with returned residents through Developing Impacted Lives (DIL).” She said she would accept suggestions from “anywhere and anyone” that would help prevent the youth from going to prison.

Kling spoke about SQUIRES, a program where troubled youth come into San Quentin for candid conversations and intense listening sessions with selected prisoners.

“But, the first thing is getting yourself established, and then come to us to help.” Klinge said to the men.

Some prisoners asked the district attorneys about pending legislation that would encourage younger prisoners to take an active role in rehabilitation.

“This bill can change the perspective from despair to hope,” said Romeo Baca about the California Senate Bill, which would give prison time reduction to individuals who committed their crime at a young age.

Baca said he came to prison at age 16.

“It was very frightening, but I acted like it wasn’t,” Baca said. “KidCAT helped me deal with prison. When you give kids opportunities, they won’t let you down.”

Participants of the Barbershop Forum on the Garden Chapel Courtyard after the event

KidCAT (Creating Awareness Together) is a support community for men who committed their crimes at a young age, often as teenagers, and sentenced as adults to life terms. The group’s mission is to inspire humanity through education, mentorship and restorative practices.

Chase Benoit said he came to prison at age 19.

Benoit said he tells incarcerated youngsters who are struggling, “There’s a differ- ent path and a different way. You don’t have to wait; check out SQUIRES and KidCAT.”

Chambers asked, “What about the hard-headed kids. How could you get in their head?”

Benoit responded, “The only people who talked to me then were still doing wrong. So, the real issue is getting them talking to former or incarcerated people.”

Kenneth Vernon, 47, proposed teaching young people “emotional intelligence.”

He said he came to prison at age 23.

“At that time, nothing would have impacted my choice,” Vernon said.

He said emotional intelligence allows individuals to “recognize what you’re feel- ing in your body. If I would have had something like that in school, it would have been a great help.”

Also present was former San Quentin News staffer Miguel Quezada, who paroled almost two years ago.

Getting a rare second chance in prison: How one youthful offender reclaimed his life with the help of others

August 14, 2019 by Joe Garcia

Ryan Dietz and “Prison Daddy” Kenny Vernon

Ryan Dietz arrived at San Quentin in 2016 ready to succumb to all the usual pitfalls that await youth of- fenders—substance abuse, cellphone activity and peer- pressured violence.

Instead, the 19-year-old found a supportive community of mentors and positive role models that guided him onto a better path and a brighter future. Dietz paroled from SQ on July 7 with a heart determined to pay that forward.

“Ultimately, prison gave me back my life,” Dietz told SQNews. “When I look back, I know I’m always going to be grateful for this experience—I know that sounds funny, but it’s true.”

Dietz entered the system as a teenager hooked on crystal meth. He’d already been in and out of rehab numerous times. Fortunately for him, he crossed paths with guys at SQ who were ready to help.

Dietz said that Charlie Spence came up to him on the yard and asked if he was a youth offender. “He told me about a group I needed to join, with nothing but other youth offenders in it.”

Spence, a former KidCAT Chairman and lifer, who paroled last year, left a lasting impact on Dietz, encouraging him to take an active role in the YOP (Youth Offender Program) community, particularly KidCAT and BE-IT (Benefitting Each Individual Together.)

Dietz didn’t just participate in these groups—he eventually became a facilitator and mentor himself.

“I’m not religious, so I don’t want to say ‘blessing’, but it pretty much was a blessing to land at San Quentin,” said Dietz. “There are just so many people here willing to give me the time to help me out.

Kenny Vernon, Tommy Wickerd, Chris Deragon and Charlie Spence are the guys Dietz said kept pushing him to be his best.

Wickerd first met Dietz years before, when he was celled-up with Dietz’ uncle at Lancaster.

“It’s crazy…I can’t even remember the guy’s name right now,” said Wickerd. “But he knew I was serious about working with youngsters. He told me about his 16-year-old nephew mess- ing with drugs and possibly hanging around with gang members.”

Wickerd, who’s been incarcerated now for the last 18 years—and sober for the last 17—had facilitated Lancaster’s Youth Diversion program, and, at the time, was also Vice Chairman of CROP (Convicts Reaching Out to People).

“I wrote the kid a four- page letter, just telling him what was waiting for him if he continued doing what he was doing,” said Wickerd. “But later, you know, his uncle told me he was still f– -king up out there.”

Dietz eventually visited his uncle at Lancaster, and Wickerd happened to be there at the same time visit- ing with his wife.

“Man, when my uncle told them it was me, Tommy came straight up to me—his wife is there, too, yelling at me,” said Dietz. “He said, ‘Look youngster, you keep it up, you’re going to end up in prison with me. And this isn’t the lifestyle you want.’

“When I realized Ryan was standing in front of me at SQ three years later, I felt like I’d failed him,” said Wickerd. “I felt like crap be- cause my own son was out there making bad choices, and now someone I’d tried to mentor had ended up in prison.

“Ryan was a little jerk when he first got here, too— young and ready to do what- ever he had to do, and not in a good way.”

Dietz only had about a 10th grade education, so right away Wickerd ushered him into the education building and introduced Dietz to the CDCR teachers who were helping Wickerd complete his own GED.

“Once I got in there, I actually liked it,” said Dietz. “I didn’t feel pressured, because I was making the choice myself.”

Dietz flew through the coursework and passed all the GED tests within three months.

After that, Dietz also completed SQ’s Substance Abuse Program (SAP), participated in Coalition For Justice, graduated KidCAT’s First Step curriculum, enrolled in the Prison University Project (PUP)—and worked as a vocational carpenter.

Vernon, 47, took it upon himself to get Dietz into vocational training, so that Dietz would have some viable job skills to take with him to the streets.

“I had to talk my supervisors into taking a chance on Ryan, but I told them I’d be responsible for training him and getting him up and running,” said Vernon. “Now that Ryan’s leaving, they want me to go find another motivated youngster for that spot—all because Ryan worked out so phenomenally.”

“Kenny taught me every- thing I needed to know,” said Dietz.

The two men—over 30 years apart in age—developed a deep connection, eventually celling-up together for the last year. Everyone quickly began referring to Vernon as Dietz’ “prison daddy.”

“I’m just proud of the kid. He put so much positive work into himself,” said Vernon. “At first, you have to push these youngsters to succeed, but then you need to let up and see if they can make the right decisions on their own.”

At one point, Dietz found himself faced with a personal dilemma: there can be a stigma attached to prison- ers who choose to serve their time at SQ. The situation is complicated but, for Dietz, it was a choice between what was best for his personal advancement versus how he might be labeled at other prisons.

“At first, I was really unsure,” said Dietz. “I didn’t know what I was gonna do. I talked to Chris, Tommy, Kenny, but it was Branden [Riddle-Terrell] who told me something that stuck in my mind.

“He said, ‘Listen to yourself. You’re already worried about what people at other prisons think of you—and you don’t even know those people yet.’

“That just made me understand—other people’s opinions, unless they are positive, don’t really matter.”

Though it was difficult, ultimately Dietz made the decision based on what increased his chances for a successful reentry.

“This is the first time in my life that I’ve actually applied myself to positive things,” he said. He explained, for ex- ample, that the relationship he had with his mom had al- ways been strained but that was beginning to change. “Now she’s starting to trust me a little more.”

Becoming a KidCAT member helped put things in perspective for Dietz.

“It was weird, because when I first got into that group on Thursdays—everyone acted like adults,” he said. “I wasn’t used to it. The love and respect everyone shows each other, I’ve never seen nothing like that.

“Learning to handle conflict in a respectful way—respectfully disagreeing with someone—those were all new things to me.”

Philip Senegal first met Dietz in 2017. “He was a shy little guy back then,” recalled Senegal. “He’s a lot more engaging now—a lot more comfortable with him- self.”

Senegal wanted to relate an incident that demonstrates Dietz’ growth and maturity: “He and a Black man got into a verbal confrontation over the ‘N’ word. One of Ryan’s White buddies, I guess, used that word—the Black guy thought Ryan said it.

“Two days later, I could tell Ryan was still troubled by how it all went down. He wasn’t sure how he should handle the situation, but he wanted to reassure the man that he didn’t agree with his friend’s behavior.”

Senegal, a Black man himself, advised Dietz to just talk to the guy, man-to-man, and offered to be there to facilitate that conversation. But, Dietz felt it was something he needed to do all on his own.

“Ever since then, I kinda latched onto the kid,” said Senegal. “I saw him in a more favorable light. He’s been sincere in his rehabilitation. As this population has evolved, he’s evolved right along with it.”

Dietz said the biggest lessons he’s learned happened by simply being around his fellow KidCAT members.

“I wasn’t comfortable with myself, so I was always looking for validation— that usually came from doing stupid things,” he said. “When I learned to be okay with me, that’s when everything changed.

“People started to give me actual respect, instead of that fake respect when you do violent things. Doing the positive things I’m doing to-day, people appreciate me for who I am.”

Dietz plans to take these lessons home to the Tarzana Treatment Center—a youth rehab with which he’s extremely familiar.

“I’ve gone through there three times, but I never lis- tened,” said Dietz. “I need to share my story—a story from a still-young perspective.

“Maybe I can get through to kids like me and say, ‘Look, this is what happens when you don’t listen.’

A walk on the yard sends youth to camp

August 12, 2019 by Marcus Henderson

Visitors and inmates making the circle of peace at the Lower Yard

“We march in solidarity, we all are behind bars,” were the lyrics of a rap song that blared through a massive speaker on San Quentin’s Lower Yard. The song captured the voices and themes of SQ Project Avary’s 3rd Annual “March for the Next Generation.”

The June 22 event had inmate Philippe “Kells” Kelly and Eric McCanty of Project Avary rapping those powerful words in front of a host of prisoners and guests.

“Incarceration carries so much grief with it that it lasts throughout generations,” said Zach Whelan, Project Avary’s executive director. “That’s why it’s important to connect with the men here to help break that intergenerational cycle.”

Project Avary is a Bay Area organization dedicated to helping kids of incarcerated parents. This was the third year the organization partnered with San Quentin’s Kid CAT program, an incarcerated youth support group, to hold the event.

This year the march raised more than $1,500 from the men inside. A matching fund campaign for the walk received $24,000 from out-side donors. The donations will send 24 kids of incarcerated parents to summer camp.

“Everyone knows what happens to a person once they get arrested—they get put behind bars, but no one really knows what happens with the kids,” said Ziri R, 18, of Project Avary. “I was put in a foster home until I was adopted by my father’s sister.

“To this day his absence hurts me. I used to think I didn’t need him—that I’m better off without him. I realize that’s just me trying to pretend I don’t care. The truth is I always cared.”

Consuelo R. giving the crowd words of wisdom

Ziri talked about her experiences in elementary school and how her classmates would talk about their dads. She would watch them run and hug their dads picking them up from school.

“I overcame that pain and turned it into motivation,”

Cesar said he has an album coming out titled “Ridin’ Solo.”

Antwan Banks and Eric “Maserati E” Abercrombie, SQ residents, rocked the event with a medley of their original hip hop and rap songs. Their masterful lyrics and musical production gave the yard a true concert vibe.

“There was a force of energy that ignites you after experiencing this event,” said Mary Richards, an administrator for San Francisco Unified School District. “Being responsible for over a thousand students, you are always looking for the next best things to do.

“We have to give our teachers the opportunities and the tools to empower the kids who have an incarcerated parent,” Richards added.

The day ended with all the participants forming a large “healing circle” and in unison reciting, “With every step we walked, it’s a healing for our families. We are thankful for the future things coming.”

said Ziri, who is headed to Sacramento State University. “I hope you are proud of me, Dad; I know Mom is.”

More than 200 participants walked a lap of silence around the rocky dirt track to start the march. The festivities included prayers, speeches, poems and music that bought smiles and tears. Jonathan Rivas, KidCAT participant, shared his story about being a father in prison and his fear of the intergenerational effects for his daughter.

“I had to watch my daughter grow up through a county jail window,” said Rivas. “I feel that I have failed as a father; by coming to prison I lost that privilege. My older brothers, father and uncles have been to jail. I won’t say it’s hereditary, but I do see the cycle.

“I wanted to be different from my dad. He used to beat me. He would be angry and frustrated all the time. He never showed me love or com- passion.

“I just want to be different and teach my daughter how to be at peace. She deserves a great father,” Rivas added.

Consuelo R, spoke about raising children while the father is in prison, giving back and Project Avary.

“I think people need to see this [event],” said Consuelo. “As people of color, some- times we feel entitled not to give anything back. Coming here made me look at prison- ers in a different way. I will give back more.”

Consuelo thanked Project Avary for the program where her children can meet with other kids going through similar issues. Her son has a mentor to share things with, if not with her. Now her daughter has joined the program.

“I didn’t think having her father in jail would affect her as much as my son, but it has,” said Consuelo. “I’ve seen a change since she started the program: she has opened up more to me and she is more joyful.”

Consuelo left the men with these words.

“Everything you do doesn’t only affect you, it affects everyone connected to you. So please, go back and call your son, daughter or family member and tell them how much you love them, because trust me, they are waiting patiently for your 15-minute call.”

Throughout the speeches, various prisoners and guests participated. Fateen Jackson, who expects to parole soon, performed a spoken word piece titled “Revealed.”

“Losing all sense of self and scared to ask for help as if it was death itself.

I came to prison because I didn’t listen to my intuition.

That would’ve put me in a different position.

And a better condition that I currently live in,” Jackson’s poem concluded.

Cesar, an Avary participant, who goes by the rap name Solo, engaged the audience with his song “It’s a Cold Game.” Cesar’s catchy hook had the crowd repeat- ing it.

“There no friends in this cold game (uun),” he rapped.

Cesar said he has an album coming out titled “Ridin’ Solo.”

“We have to give our teachers the opportunities and the tools to empower the kids who have an incarcerated parent,” Richards added.

Scholarship recipient overcame a dark and troubled past

July 10, 2019 by Joe Garcia

“I only knew what others had told me: that I was worthless, stupid, and a failure”

Prison taught Daniel Hen- son the value of education, and now he has earned a college scholarship.

“I did not finish kindergarten because of my parents’ bitter separation,” said Henson. “As a result, from then until I was 14 years old, I bounced from school to school.”

After failing out of 8th grade in 1996, Henson said that he “quickly spiraled out of control, associating with other delinquents and engaging in substance abuse. I did not go to school to learn. I went to socialize.

“I only knew what others had told me: that I was worthless, stupid, and a failure. I did not care. I did not understand the purpose or point of an education.”

Henson, now 37, was 16 when he was tried as an adult and sentenced to 176-years-to-life.

In prison, Henson discovered a passion for education. He earned a high school di- ploma and became certified as both a welder and fiber optic installer before taking the plunge into college, where he credits his instructors with helping him shape his intellect.

“I hated English my entire life and failed every test. I had no clue I could do so well,” said Henson. “With applied effort and the help of my Merced College professors, I surprised myself.

“I’m one of three who made history April 6, 2019, when we were awarded scholarships from the statewide honor society. And I wanted you to know a juvenile tried as an adult was one of them — me,” he wrote in a letter to Kid CAT Speaks.

“This just shows what ‘we’ (any of us) can do if given the opportunity.”

For their scholastic accomplishments within the Merced College program at Valley State Prison, Henson and David Flores each received $1,000 scholarships through Alpha Gamma Sigma (AGS), the Academic Honor Society and Service Organization of the California Community Colleges.

Anthony Medina received $1,600 from AGS for out- standing service. All three men were celebrated in absentia during the 93rd Annual AGS Convention this year in Ontario, Calif. Jennifer McBride, an adviser on Merced College’s English faculty, witnessed Henson’s exceptional progress firsthand.

“I have worked with many incarcerated students, but Daniel stands out to me as a student who seems to have embraced the idea of rehabilitation through education,” said McBride when recommending Henson for the award. “Daniel has learned much about himself during his educational journey behind bars.”

Michael Barba, professor of English at Merced College, joined McBride in describing Henson’s present-day scholastic drive.

“I find Daniel’s intellectual curiosity and maturity are rare for students at Merced College,” said Barba. “He is an outstanding student in multiple respects.

“Daniel made sure to dedicate the time and effort, not only to complete the task and complete it well, but to also assist others. He is truly a leader among his peers and fellow students.”

Henson also mentors young men in the Youth Offender Program.

“Daniel has shown a selfless commitment to assisting other inmates in their rehabilitation — in particular, youth offenders,” said McBride.

According to McBride, Henson developed and implemented MAGIC (Maturity + Accountability + Growth + Inspiration = Change) — a program that brings in outside community speakers. Also, she credits him with hosting The Day of Hope: Teenagers are Salvageable.

“This event is aimed at helping adult inmates, who were sentenced as youths, understand their value and potential,” said McBride.

“Yet, my greatest accomplishment is one you may not expect,” said Henson. “The fact is, I learned that I can learn.

“I learned that I do have value and worth. I learned that I can still be of use— regardless of how badly I have been, or am, damaged. I learned that my yesterday does not define my tomorrow.

“I have a very dark past, but a much brighter future.”

The Beat Within celebrates 21 years of giving youth a voice

June 26, 2019 by Lisa Strawn

Dave Inocencio (second from left), The Beat Within and KID CAT members

For the past five years, Dave Inocencio has been coming to San Quentin to lead a writing workshop for The Beat Within publication that he started 21 years ago in San Francisco.

He got involved with San Quentin through Karen Drucker, who, at the time, worked with the KID CAT program and emailed him asking him to be a part of it. The first time he saw the CAT program, Inocencio was blown away.

“[KID CAT shows] all those who are incarcerated that they matter and have a story and a place for them at the table,” he said.

Prior to meeting Drucker in 2013, Inocencio had started The Beat Within after working as a social worker for juveniles in San Francisco’s county jail. He wasn’t afraid to go into jails. It was inspiring for him.

“The system would label the kids, but once I saw them, I found that they had dreams, loves and fears,” he said.

According to Inocencio, the meaning of The Beat Within is to listen and connect with the souls and wisdom of those who often don’t have a voice.

In January 1996, Inocencio had his first workshop. It was the same year Tupac Shakur was killed. The kids began to tell Inocencio stories about Tupac Shakur and how he impacted their lives. Tupac ended up being featured on the first cover of the publication, and so The Beat Within began.

When Inocencio brought the publication to San Quentin, Miguel Quezada, a San Quentin inmate, helped him run The Beat Within workshop. Today, Michael Webb and Michael Mackey help to facilitate and lead the publication.

“The Beat Within has helped me to communicate better with others,” Webb said. “I needed The Beat Within to be a better person.”

Each month four topics are passed out to the group. Everyone has time to write on as many of the subjects as they wish. The subjects range from how to deal with racism, to how an adult has helped you in the past.

“The subjects passed out have a lot of meaning,” Mackey said.

Michael Web spoke about how, even though he isn’t around them, his kids don’t have any resentment against him because The Beat Within carries his voice to them. He added that The Beat Within has given him a voice to help other kids hear his message as well.

When asked about the beginning stages of The Beat Within, Inocencio explained that he had a lot of interest from friends who wanted to help, leading to partnerships with the Ella Baker Center for Human Rights in Oakland and the California College of Arts, to name just a few. Now there are 25 outlets of The Beat Within in the U.S., including Hawaii and New Mexico, with more than 100 volunteers.

“I have pinch me moments, and I don’t take anything for granted because I wanted to learn from everyone and the volunteers,” Inocencio said. “It’s not about me.”

At the most recent San Quentin workshop, one of the prompts was how spending time alone has affected you. Hieu Nguyen, a prisoner in the program, spoke about his experiences growing up without a father and being left home alone. He would watch other kids get picked up after school by their parents, and it bothered him that nobody was there to come get him. To fill this void, Nguyen turned to gangs and looked at the older guys as father figures.

“The Beat Within has helped me learn express those feelings that I had had as a kid,” Nguyen said.

For the future, Inocencio hopes that The Beat Within will get more funding to expand to other prisons and jails.

“I have no plans to retire, and as long as people are incarcerated, I will have The Beat Within,” Inocencio said.

The complicated role of a SQ Correctional Counselor

June 25, 2019 by Joe Garcia

Youth offenders keep CCI V. Sibley’s hands full

Ask any prisoner about his or her experience with correctional counselors and the responses will vary greatly—from torrid expletives to heartfelt praise. That’s the nature of the inmate/counselor dynamic: Does the prisoner feel he got helped or got screwed over?

Correctional Counselor V. Sibley knows all about this tricky duality.

“There’s plenty of inmates pissed off at me, I’m sure,” she told SQNews. “We counselors do what we can, but we can’t please everybody.”

Still, some young men in San Quentin’s Youth Offender Program (YOP) point out CCI Sibley for making a meaningful difference in the trajectory of their incarceration.

“Because she took the time to believe in me—that made it possible for me to see my true potential,” said Sumit Lal. “I didn’t realize what I could do with my life by being at this prison.”

Lal received two back-to- back Rules Violation Reports (RVRs)—or “115”s—for possession of a cell phone, and then, separately, the phone’s charger. Facing transfer to a higher security prison put all the opportunities available to him at SQ in jeopardy.

CCI Sibley remembers the incident well:“Lal came into my office and immediately told me, ‘I know I f–ked up.’ And he had no idea he was in the process of getting a second RVR—because while he was there talking to me they were searching his bunk area and found something else.

“He got caught with whatever he got caught with, but I knew he’d really been trying to program—going to school, learning to code, working with Lt. Sam Robinson.”

Lal went before a YOP disciplinary committee where his fate would be determined.

“At any committee like this, there always has to be at least two counselors and one captain,” said Sibley.

Although the final decision was not hers to make alone, Sibley spoke up about Lal’s hard work in The Last Mile’s coding program, his progress in the Prison University Project (PUP)—and all the positive efforts he’d made within the YOP program.

“It’s because of that one moment, that one chance—a second chance, really—that I’m getting my AA this June,” said Lal. “And I’m in Joint Venture (earning minimum wage), so I’ll be able to walk out of here with more than $200 when I get released.”

Sibley explained: “The YOPs (guys in the program), they have to sign a contract. They’re being given a chance to program at a programming facility, so they agree not get into trouble, essentially.

“I’ve transferred out quite a few YOPs for 115s—or rather, I should say I’ve been present at committees where YOPs were transferred out. Counselors can speak up because they usually have the most info, but it’s a collective decision, with a Captain there.”

Gabe Uribe, another YOP who faced transfer, said, “Sibley doesn’t want to see young guys fail and have to go to other prisons to learn lessons they’d have to learn the hard way. She actually takes the time to understand your situation.

“She’s the best counselor when it comes to helping out YOPs—getting them into programs and staying at SQ.”

“It feels weird—the recognition,” said Sibley. “I’m just doing my job.”

Not all YOPs at SQ share the same good opinion of Sibley. “She’s the worst counselor ever,”said one guy when he heard about the other YOPs praising her efforts. “She’s shipped out all kinds of dudes—for doing nothing, just looking at her funny.”

Other YOPs around him heard this and echoed their same opinion about CCI Sibley.

“Often, there’s really nothing I can do,” said Sibley— after erupting in laughter when told about the ‘worst counselor ever’ comment. “People seem to think counselors can get past rules and wave our magic wand.

“Some guys, you can just tell—they want to program here or try anyway.

“Other guys, you can tell they’re still in the game.”

Richard Prosser is a YOP waiting for Sibley to initiate a program review process— where he hopes his current Level 3 points can be reduced to Level 2 points so he can stay at SQ.

“She made it a point that we shouldn’t just stand by, be idle and get pushed around by the whole system— but instead be more proactive and utilize the resources available to us here,” said Prosser. “She re- ally encouraged me to continue going to groups, going to school—just stay out of trouble. That impacted me big time.

“It made me feel like I had someone, other than my family, who’d go the extra mile—
not look at us as just young kids go-ing around doing dumb stuff.

“She’s the only counselor so far that‘s shown any hope in me. Made me feel human.”

Prosser took Sibley’s advice to heart and is committed to immersing himself in SQ’s self-improvement atmosphere. He currently apprentices as a roofer in Career Technical Education, participates in ELITE (Exploring Leadership Improving Transitional Effectiveness), regularly attends Alcoholics Anonymous meetings and is enrolled in PUP.

Once YOPs arrive at SQ, the responsibility is on them to become involved in programs that will benefit them.

“There’s no structure,” said Lal. “YOPs are just put on the yard and told ‘Hey, go stay out of trouble.”

When new YOPs came to Sibley’s caseload, she would often call Lal to her office to try and help show them the ropes.

“It’s easier to talk to some- one who has more in common with you,” said Sibley. “Obviously, I’m not, like, 20—not a male.

“I’d introduce them to Lal and say, ‘This guy can help you.’ He’d walk around with them and point out the programs here that can benefit them.”

“Sibley utilized me to help get these guys in school, college, groups—whatever,” said Lal. “YOPs that aren’t even on her caseload, she’d call me because maybe their counselor doesn’t know me like that.”

“She definitely gave me a hard time—made sure to remind me of how short of a leash I was on.”

Not only did Lal progress successfully through the ranks as a coder in The Last Mile, but he now teaches coding to prisoners at other facilities, male and female, via video phone conferencing.

“I can relate to these young men and women through coding, but it’s about much more than coding,” he said. “We end up talking about the daily struggles that, as youths, we all go through.”

Sibley offered these words to youth offenders who are trying to navigate their way through being locked up: “They have to figure out what they want. Without a plan or idea, they’re going to go nowhere. If their plan is to stay in a gang or whatever—then that’s what they’re going to do.

“If they want to program, if they want to get out, they’re going to work toward that.

“Some people just aren’t ready—no matter how old they are.”

In an ironic and recent twist, the same YOP inmate who spoke negatively about Sibley ended up having her reassigned as his counselor.

“I still stand by everything I said before,” he told SQNews right before press time. “But she was real cool today. She helped me out a lot. She was great.”

Dear Kid CAT

April 30, 2019 by Joe Garcia

Hello KidCAT Speaks,

My name is Deontre Brown. I’m 21 years old and currently serving a 25-year bid at SATF/ Corcoran Prison.

For some reason while at the law library I picked up a SQN October 2018 issue, and I read about “Antoine Brown Is a Free Man After 22 Years.”

I noticed we both had the same last name—that’s what caught my eye (but no relation). Any- way, after I read it, it inspired me. It brought more faith to my situation. To know that you could go through a bad situation and turn it to a good situation.

I finished reading it and saw at the bottom the KidCAT curriculum is available. I would like to start a KidCAT youth offender group at this institution—due to the fact on this yard there are a lot of dudes that have been in prison since they were youths and would like to make a change.

But this yard doesn’t have very many programs to benefit from.

I also understand you need a sponsor or community partnership. At the moment, I don’t have that, but I can gather up a bunch of signatures from inmates who would like to volunteer in this program on the yard.

Please respond back because it means a lot to help people that want to be helped but don’t know which way to go to start. Thank you and God bless.

Deontre Brown 2/18/19

Deontre,

KidCAT Speaks hears you loud and clear. KidCAT began because of guys like you hanging together on a yard with no youth offender programs. With or without a curriculum, you younger men have to support one another—break across racial lines and get the whole self-help conversation started.

Right now, you must reach out and contact the community partnership manager at your facility. CDCR requires that as the proper line of communication. Whoever your CPM is, they must then contact San Quentin’s CPM to get the curriculum ball rolling. That’s how it has to be done.

Most importantly, do not give up on yourself, Deontre. The main mission of KidCAT is to motivate and encourage you to remain optimistic. Don’t ever view yourself as forgotten, even if it seems that way when you’re sitting in your cell. And this is an attitude that you can help spread to other inmates around you. Being the service to others to helps you most of all.