Striving for a good education has its challenges for anyone, but for incarcerated students those trials and tribulations are greater. However, one incarcerated man has persevered and has become the first student to earn a Master’s of Business and Administration (MBA) degree at San Quentin State Prison in almost a decade.

Michael Johnson, 37, earned his MBA with an emphasis in “Leadership” from Adams State University of Colorado, where the motto is “Great stories start here!”

“He is the first guy to receive that level of a degree since I started overseeing the education department in 2013,” said Michael Wheeless, the principal of San Quentin’s education department. Wheeless is in charge of handling educational tasks and the overall education responsibilities, plus keeping track of who receives AA degrees and BA degrees.

There are other outside correspondence colleges active at San Quentin, as well as the Prison University Project that offers face-to-face classes and awards Associate Degrees upon graduation.

“For an incarcerated person to achieve any accomplishment in education is remarkable,” Wheeless said.

“Since Proposition 57 was implemented in November of 2016, there have been plenty of instances when inmates have earned time off their sentences for achieving AA and BA degrees, but this is the first time under the San Quentin rules of Prop.57 that I’ve seen a Master’s earned.”

Smiling while leaning back in his chair and beaming proudly, Wheeless continued,

“I’m impressed with Mr. Johnson’s educational achievement, at having earned an MBA degree while incarcerated. It means even more to have earned it while in prison rather than being on the streets.”

However, Johnson is modest about earning the MBA during his prison stay. Although he received his bachelor’s degree while at another prison, the challenges there were much greater to overcome.

“I treated my prison time as if I was away at college,” Johnson said, “I did my time and did not allow the time to do me.”

Johnson took such courses as Managerial Accounting and Business Management along with a laundry list of other business classes– and emerged triumphant.

He maintained a 3.86 grade point average, earning “A’s” and “B’s,” grades that he could not imagine earning back in Woodland, California where he was born.

“When I was in the fourth grade I could not even read; I was like in what they call, “slow learning classes,” said Johnson. He was a late starter and said that he actually started learning after he got to high school.

“I was determined to learn, though,” said Johnson.

Other SQ residents stopped by to congratulate Johnson even during this interview, but he modestly accepts compliments on his achievements from his peers. His wish is that he can encourage other guys in prison to pursue their dreams like he did.

Johnson understands the challenges an incarcerated person can face while in prison. During his humbling six year prison experience, Johnson was not always on the right path to education. It was a life-altering experience with a family member that sparked his desire of higher learning.

“My first year in prison my grandmother passed away,” Johnson recalls, “Her name was Mary Rita Moncrif. She was my inspiration to do better. She raised me and when she passed, it pained me that I could not be there for the funeral.”

He somberly sank back in his seat at the memory. So, in honor of her memory, Johnson wanted to do something that would make his grandmother proud of him. For Johnson, education was the best way to show his appreciation to his grandmother for raising him.

Throughout his life, Johnson has been familiar with loss in many other situations. Due to alcoholism he lost his wife and other assets. “Now I know how to appreciate the things that really matter in life, like family and loved ones, not the material things, the superficial things.”

He credits his Aunt Elizabeth for supporting him financially and helping him achieve his education goals.

“Feels good to be the first one to achieve this milestone at San Quentin,” Johnson said.. “I encourage other guys to go ahead and do it, too.

“If the government would focus more on education instead of just locking people up, I believe that would help communities out there a lot better.”

The value of Prison to Employment Connection on returning citizens through job opportunities and connections

January 6, 2020 by Kevin Sawyer

Prison to Employment Connection’s Employer Day in November

Prison to Employment Connection (PEC) reached a milestone at San Quentin, completing its 10th session and graduating 44 men, who learned how to present themselves to future employers.

One of the highlights of the program was Employer Day in November, where 196 interviews took place with inmates inside the prison’s Protestant chapel. They were conducted with potential companies that hire the formerly incarcerated. A subsequent graduation ceremony was held two weeks later for the Session 10-44 graduates.

Keeping with tradition, Diana Williams, PEC executive director, spoke to the audience comprised of inmates, guests and PEC volunteers. She said the rate of recidivism in California is more than 60%. “That means 26 of the men in this room would come back to prison within three years of their release.” She offered employment as one of the key solutions to reduce recidivism.

According to Williams, recidivism is cut in half when those who are formerly incarcerated find employment. For those who have jobs upon release from prison, recidivism is 3.3% to 8 %, she said.

“To date, 253 men have graduated from PEC,” said Williams. “Of those, 153 have paroled and only one has returned to prison,” leaving her program with a 1% recidivism rate.

Diana Williams giving a speech to the audience

“This is a blessing to me, something I’ve been needing my whole life,” said Edmund Johnson, 47. He’s been incarcerated 24 years. “I think the program is excellent. It’s teaching me to use my transferable skills. It’s teaching me how to talk to employers.”

Williams explained how during months of preparation the men learned personal and work related interests. They studied work values, resume writing, interview skills, their incarceration history, and used it all to create “packages of success.” She said they also worked on learning how to reframe rejection.

“It’s designed to connect the men to themselves,” Williams told the audience of employers and career specialists. “Men in this program experience a renewed hope.”

Returning citizen Nelson Butler speaking with a student

She said 68 men started the class in August. Two weeks later, the Session 10-44 graduates attended a ceremony in the Catholic chapel, where they received certificates and other paperwork that will allow them to find employment upon their release from prison.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” said Michael Belton, 58. “I signed up, and I wasn’t sure, but I said ‘what do I have to lose?’ I actually gained something from it.”

He said PEC taught him to be open about his criminal history.

Gary Falxman came in from Realty One and the Oakland Rotary Club. He had toured the prison previously and said he learned about the programs in prison, and it made an impression on him. “I’m back here to help others find what they’re passionate about,” he said.

Checker is a San Francisco-based company working to modernize the background check process.

A participant interviewing with City College of San Francisco

“Our mission is to promote fair chance hiring,” Rebecca Rabison said. “We do that by trying to provide more employment opportunities for people with conviction histories.”

“Socializing” the idea of second chances, Orrian Willis works for the City of San Francisco’s Office of Economic and Work Force Development. It funds 45 job training programs, 13 of which focus on technical training. It was his third time attending Employer Day. “In our labor market, the demand is starting to recognize the talent” (of the formerly incarcerated)”.

Willis asked, “If people do their time why are we still punishing them when they get out?” Adding, to give them employment, “I think it’s our fiscal responsibility.”

“I was nervous and excited, not to mention I almost fell off the chair for giving me such an opportunity of a lifetime,” said Edwin Chavez, 44. He said he’s never had a job interview in his life. He’s been incarcerated for 25 years.

“I love it,” said Steve Garrett, 34, who’s been incarcerated for 18 months. “I think it’s a great program. The opportunity and skills that they’re giving us is what we need to stay out of prison.”

Elizabeth Toups, of the Jewish Vocational Service, had visited the prison previously during a graduation ceremony. “I was so impressed with what everyone was doing here,” she said.

The San Francisco-based organization works with people from all backgrounds to help them get jobs.

“Sometimes that involves connecting them to training, “she said.

Participants greeting employers as they come into San Quentin

When the interviews were completed, the guests reconvened to seats on the stage in the chapel. Williams commented that this 10th PEC session had the largest group of supporters attend Employer Day. Twelve of them stood up and received a warm applause from the men.

Jay Minteer was one of those supporters. He said another supporter, Tom Lacey, introduced him to PEC. He said it’s a worthy cause to make sure people don’t come back. It was his first time inside of a prison.

“I was impressed when I walked in and shook everyone’s hands,” said Minteer. “It works when you shake someone’s hand and look someone in the eye.”

“Thank you for believing in these men and this program,” said Williams. She introduced and thanked the inmate PEC volunteers who’ve also gone through the program and come back to help others. “As outside volunteers, we can only do so much for the program.”

Williams explained how the program was started before introducing Nobel Butler, who came up with the idea to provide inmates a head start on employment before parole. When he was incarcerated, he wanted to know how to get a job and to present employment prospects to the parole board.

“I just really wanted to come back and say things that other people (said to) me, so I really wanted to give back. This is my opportunity,” said Butler. He paroled and said he’s been gainfully employed ever since. The audience applauded his success. “My purpose here today is to give you guys hope. I think maybe I did something half right.”

“I realize life is an interview,” Williams, a PEC graduate now on parole, told her. She acknowledged and thanked PEC volunteers Lisa Trustin and Gabrielle Nicolet.

This was Trustin’s second session. “It’s not different because we experienced the same transformation the men make connecting with their own hope,” she said.

“It’s always different,” said Nicolet. “There are different challenges, like lockdowns, that present challenges. The prison population is different than it was a year ago.”

She said the core of why she volunteers is because prisoners need help. It was her sixth session.

As the guests sat on the stage, they received feedback from many of the inmates.

“I want to thank you for your friendly demeanor,” said Richard Richardson. “This program is everything I thought it would be. You guys treated me like a human.”

The employers and guests also shared their comments with the men.

One said, “This is the second time I’ve come, and each time there’s a new excitement.”

Another said, “You all should be teaching people how to interview.”

Their remarks kept coming.

“I’ve looked at a lot of resumes, and I can’t tell you how much I’d like to see more of these,” said another guest.

Employees of Checkr meeting with participants

At the graduation ceremony, Williams asked, “How many of you would have taken this class if you weren’t getting RAC (Rehabilitation Achievement Credits) credits?” About 90% of the men raised their hands. Then she read the interview results of the PEC graduates and said they did as well or better than people on the outside. The percentages from low to high:

5 Excellent 42%

4 Above average 39%

3 Average 19%

2 Below 0%

1 Poor 0%

Derry Brown said someone suggested he take the program. He went through the class and has now become a facilitator for the program’s 11th session. He said he’d never completed a resume or had many jobs and that his youth was swallowed up with incarceration.

“I didn’t have any of these skills,” he said. “So for me to go through this process was inspiring.”

In addition to Williams, Angel Falcone has been a volunteer for all 10 sessions. He told the men, “Every job is your business school” and advised them to do the best they can on every job.

“Everything we learn, we’re going to need,” said Dwight Kennedy, who volunteers for the program. “Take what you’ve learned and apply it to your life.”

Incarcerated cooks learn top notch skills as they reenter the workforce

January 2, 2020 by Aron Kumar Roy

A class of men incarcerated at San Quentin graduated from a cooking course aimed at teaching them topnotch skills for reintegration into the workforce once released.

Thanks to the Quentin Cooks program, the eight men showcased their newfound skills on Nov. 13 by preparing a four-course meal for visitors from outside the walls of San Quentin.

“The food was astonishingly delicious,” said San Francisco Public Defender Manojar Raju, “But I think if more people were able to meet everyone in here and get to know them, they would be astonished by their resilience and determination to succeed.”

The theme of the meal was “Winter Squash Five Ways.”

The incarcerated chefs prepared the meal with assistance from instructors Chef Huw and Chef Adelaar. Several graduates also returned to help.

“I just thought we were going to go in there and pretty much make some meals,” said graduate Breon Mosely. “But we also got to learn what it was like to work on a team, how to plan out a meal, how to use the equipment, and learn how a kitchen overall runs.”

To begin the night, the cooks served butternut squash agro dolce with burrata cheese and chili crunch oil. A perfectly paired squash, apple and turnip soup was served along with the agro dolce.

The appetizer was a salad of roasted delicata squash, kale, cranberries, pumpkin seeds, chicories, winter citrus and goat cheese.

The entrée: grilled Allen Bros. rib eye steak, squash and chard gratin, roasted mushrooms, and salsa verde. To satisfy the guests’ sweet tooth: pumpkin cannoli with mascarpone, pistachios and cocoa nibs.

“The food was so flavorful, and the guys got really creative with the squash,” said Hadi Razzaq, who also works in the San Francisco Public Defenders office. “This is the kind of food I would expect at a fancy restaurant.”

After the meal, cofounder of Quentin Cooks Helaine Melnitzer delivered a heartwarming speech, thanking everyone who made the program possible.

“We’re not just a culinary program; we’re a skills based program, helping men-in-blue to succeed,” said Melnitzer. “Of the 55 men who have graduated so far, many of them released, as far as we know, none have returned to prison.”

Melnitzer, along with cofounder Lisa Dombroski, won a Jefferson Award this past August for her efforts associated with the Quentin Cooks program. A Jefferson Award is a weekly honor given to a community member for volunteer work in the community.

“The most precious thing you can give somebody is your time, because you can’t get it back,” said Melnitzer.

Dombroski shared the spotlight with the chefs who come to San Quentin for the five hour class on Wednesday mornings. “Chefs Huw and Adelaar, I never would have imagined I would find chefs whose passion for the program exceeded that of the founders.

“Every time one of our released men gets a job, it’s like Christmas for us.”

The graduating men not only value the culinary skills they learn in the program but also the opportunities they have to pursue a career in the culinary world once they are released.

“As we got to learn all these skills and techniques, we would think about how to utilize them,” said Mosely, “The program helps you to find a job when you’re released so that you can use these skills. You may have to start at the bottom, but if you’re determined, you can climb the ladder, hopefully become a chef, and be able to run your own kitchen one day.”

A new feature introduced at the Quentin Cooks sixth graduation banquet was entertainment by Quentin Cooks graduates.

Jason Griffin opened the show with a poem. Kerry Rudd and Jesse Ayers each performed humorous skits, which had the whole crowd laughing. Finally, Derry “Brotha Dee” Brown finished with a song called “My Best Friend.”

“The program just keeps improving with every cycle,” said Santhosh Daniel, a filmmaker who comes in to follow the Quentin Cooks program. “Every guy who’s getting out and doing well contributes to a track record of success.”

SQ Transgender Day of Remembrance

January 1, 2020 by Joe Garcia

Participants hold up trans lives matter sign

For the first time in its history, San Quentin State Prison joined the nationwide movement on Nov. 20 to memorialize 22 transpersons killed by hatred across the U.S. in the last year.

“Just because I’m not a part of society doesn’t mean that as a transwoman I don’t matter,” said incarcerated trans activist Lisa Strawn, who spearheaded the Transgender Day of Remembrance ceremony in the SQ chapel.

“I am still a person and so are the 22 transpeople we are remembering today.”

Many voices from the packed crowd responded, “That’s right, Lisa.”

“They deserved better than this,” she continued. “To have been shot, stabbed and burned beyond recognition at the hands of murderers—it makes no sense.”

Audience members for the groundbreaking SQ event included California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation (CDCR) officials Kris Applegate and Amy Miller, trans Corrections Officer M. Hauwert and California State Senator Scott Wiener (D-San Francisco).

“This is a really beautiful community of people who are supporting each other to make San Quentin—and the world—a better place,” Senator Wiener told SQNews after the event.

“It’s really moving to hear from incarcerated persons about the need for more love, less violence, more peace and less hatred.”

Wiener and his policy team wrote Senate Bill 132 and are working to get it approved. SB132 aims to improve housing options for incarcerated transwomen—whether they’ve had gender reassignment surgery or not.

Although the first two rows of pews were reserved with signs for “outside guests,” Senator Wiener and his aides sat in the third row with SQ prisoners.

“Thank you for being a part of what inclusion looks like today,” Strawn said to Wiener and the entire chapel.

CDCR mental health clinicians J. Lopez and C. Spohn helped establish SQ’s first transgender support group in May. They followed that up soon after with another group for the entire LGBTQ+ community.

“Guess what—San Quentin got it right this year,” said Strawn as she welcomed Lopez and Spohn up onstage.

“It’s hard to be out at San Quentin,” said Spohn, who moderates SQ’s Queer Support Group. “It takes a lot of bravery. You’re going to see a lot of brave people up here today.”

The afternoon event featured a diversity of performers and speakers who took turns honoring the fallen members of the trans community.

“Today is not just about these 22 people,” said Father Donal Godfrey from the Society of Jesuits. “It’s about the hundreds around the world who’ve been killed for no reason.”

Godfrey asked everyone to join him in a prayer for inclusion, compassion and nonjudgment.

“I believe each of us is beautiful. Each of us deserves to be treated with dignity and love.”

Calif. State Senator Scott Wiener, Lisa Strawn and Max Hickson after the event

Nah.na Reed, with James Villa beside her, spoke the names of 2019’s transgender victims while lighting electric candles. Throughout the event, the chapel’s video screens continuously ran individual photos.

With most of the victim’s being nonWhite, Strawn made sure to highlight awareness for the heightened risks and extra discrimination Black transwomen face daily.

“Racism is a key factor that pushes transwomen of color to be homeless and in part leads them to prostitution in order to survive,” she said.

When Michael Adams walked onstage, he pointed to the video screens and said, “Looking at those faces, what I saw was beauty—but the struggle inside was not revealed.

“They walked in a courage that I didn’t have. LGBTQIA—all of that—call us the alphabet people. What matters is that you just be true to yourself…”

“…because some people just don’t wanna know,” he said, introducing his song.

Adriel Ramirez sang “Amazing Grace,” but first she said, “By God’s love I’m still here today to represent the trans community.”

Thanh Tran spoke before performing. “Lisa said to me, ‘It’s so important for men who identify as cis and straight to stand in solidarity with us,’” he said. “And that made me stop and think…

“Why would anyone who feels marginalized want to marginalize anyone else?”

For those who don’t yet know, cis is the adjective now used to describe a person who identifies with the same gender they were biologically born.

Soon to be released Azzaraya Rodriguez said she came to show solidarity for all her trans sisters who’ve died or been killed.

“I am going to let the world know who I am before the world tells me,” said Rodriguez.

Gouda Preston, a Black trans woman new to SQ, personally addressed the issue of violence against transwomen of color.

“Many times we are killed because of people who don’t know who we are,” said Preston. “But in complete darkness we are all the same.

“Hatred can never do anything but take good people away.”

Michael Acosta gave a poetic and scathing indictment of toxic masculinity. “You love to hate and hate to love,” he said. “So go ahead and call her a fag again.

“But like Taylor Swift says, ‘Shade never made anybody less gay.’”

Michael Mackey and Tim Young brought the crowd to its feet with their original song, “Why Me?”

With Young plucking away melodically on guitar beside him, Mackey rapped, “This for every transgender that done passed away,” and later his hook incited raucous cheers: “I hope me and Gavin Newsom get to play this song together,” the crowd responded in raucous cheer.

Max Jackson met Strawn almost two years ago and has cared for her deeply ever since.

Chris Wallace holding a Black Trans Lives Matter sign

“It’s been a lot of long days and long nights putting this event together,” he said. “I’m overwhelmed by all the support—the attendance, the laughs, the cheers, the messages that were given today.

“To take an hour or two and hear this message about our community, they see us in a more positive way—see us as human.”

Hauwert, now on special assignment for CDCR in Sacramento, experienced many personal hurdles herself as a transwoman corrections officer at SQ in 2014.

“I was very emotional and upset by my treatment at first, but they got better,” Hauwert said about her transition. “Now, all I’m feeling is an influx of love and acceptance.

“They’re trying hard—not just to me, but to the entire trans community.”

Amy Miller serves as an associate director for CDCR’s Female Offender Programs and Services/Special Housing.

“The support for the transgender community from the non-trans inmate population and from staff makes me believe that as an agency, we are moving in the right direction,” said Miller for Inside CDCR.

Asst. Secretary for CDCR’s Office of Legislation Kris Applegate agreed.

“What the women of San Quentin put together was remarkable and emotional,” said Applegate. “Seeing their dedication and the support of the rest of the incarcerated people and staff who attended was inspirational.”

J. Lopez moderates SQ’s Trans Support Group.

“They’ve been amazing,” she said about Applegate and Miller. “I’m blown away by how supportive they’ve been.”

Strawn said Applegate and Miller have become her “new pen pals—whether they like it or not.”

“We planned this Transgender Day of Remembrance on only three weeks’ notice,” said Lopez. “It literally took us 100-150 hours of work and rehearsals.

“All the hatred and prejudice comes from a place of not understanding what it’s like to be transgender, to be different from the norm. It’s just biology—your brain.

CDCR Mental Health Primary Clinicians C. Spohn and J. Lopez

“Gender dysphoria, it’s scary for them to face. We all need to show empathy and understanding for what they’re going through,” added Lopez.

No More Tears violence prevention program originates from the heart

November 14, 2019 by Juan Haines

No More Tears’ Lonnie Morris right) and members of Healing (center) with Mattie Scott (center for Our Families and Our Nations

As the sun was setting on San Quentin, dozens of incarcerated men and Bay Area citizens gathered in the Protestant Chapel to break bread, on Sept. 14, in celebration of No More Tears, a violence prevention program.

Mick Gardner, executive director of the program established in 2002, revealed that in the last three years, 43 participants of No More Tears returned to the community and none returned to prison.

Pointing to the incarcerated men, Gardner said, “They put it together— the idea came from the heart and mind of Lonnie Morris. The sincere passion that this man has for this organization—he deserves an award, and with that said, this certificate is for the shining success of No More Tears.”

Morris accepted the award as Gardner chanted, “We are community—stop the violence,” and asked the audience to respond with, “We’re community stopping the tears.”

The give and take was repeated several times.

“When I received the appreciation award, I felt overwhelmed,” Morris said later. “We don’t work to stop violence because we look for awards or recognition but because it is work that is de- signed to save lives. However, it’s good to know that your peers recognize the work you do.”

Morris has served more than 40 years in prison on a 7-year-to-life sentence. He was recently denied pa- role in May 2019. His next parole board appearance is scheduled for 2022.

“We recognize the unique perspective of former perpetrators and value their ability to bring solutions to the communities where they once contributed to the problem,” the event program read. “Our work is made possible by the support of community leaders, correctional staff, concerned citizens, and families impacted by violence and crime.”

No More Tears’ inside and outside facilitators with participants

Alameda County Supervisor Keith Carson, who regularly visits the program, talked about seeing people who once participated in No More Tears walking around or working in the community.

“We continue to struggle to come in here on a regular basis to provide services for housing and employment,” Carson said. “My instruction and learning is what can I do for your return to be successful. I’m blessed to work with other elected officials that listen to you to understand what you need to return you back home.”

Returning citizen Joey Mason with volunteer Chérie McNaulty in the audience

Joey Mason, a former No More Tears participant, left San Quentin to freedom about a year ago.

“One thing that struck me here is that there was a lot of empathy in this room,” Mason told the audience. “We know to keep showing up, keep doing the work. Our lives are being enriched by being here.”

Incarcerated No More Tears facilitator Dwight Kennedy added, “Doing the work—that means getting to know yourself. Don’t do it for the board, do it for yourself.”

While everyone feasted on hamburgers with cake and cookies for dessert, musical acts provided entertainment.

The hip-hop vocals of Jennifer Johns and keyboard of Kev Choice were inspired by “love, humanity, love and community,” Johns said.

Rafael “Nephew” Bankston performed spoken word, highlighting how the No More Tears philosophy affected his incarceration experience by focusing on its workshops aimed to put “a face on violence.”

What no more tears means to me, truthfully
All the workshops combined confined in my sleep Reflecting who I was— not who I be
Allow me to express my no more tears dream.

Ear Hustle podcaster Antwan “Banks” Williams acknowledged the people who inspired and mentored him throughout his incarceration.

“The way that these men have treated me has changed the way I treat others,” Williams said. “It was the people who told me that I was some- body to them. Now that I am somebody, I want to tell somebody that you’re some- body to me.”

Williams then went into a spoken word performance repeating the lines:

I never really felt like somebody
Till somebody told me that I can Be somebody
Now I’m somebody who just wanna tell Somebody that you’re somebody, you’re Somebody to me!

Wall City Volume 2 Issue 2: Fighting Fire While Doing Time

October 21, 2019 by San Quentin News Contributer

By Elena Mateus with Doug Levy

Women battle to continue fighting fires after their releases

Many people are surprised to learn that nearly 10 percent of the incarcerated firefighters serving at California’s 44 “fire camps” are women. Just like men, the women firefighters get the same training as Cal Fire’s other seasonal firefighters- one week in the classroom, another week in the field, and additional training on an ongoing basis. And, just like the incarcerated men who become firefighters, they can’t get jobs as firefighters once they return to their communities.

“There’s a lot of hard work that goes into it. It’s exhausting, but you just keep on going because there is a job to do,” said one of the women firefighters. ‘I have a whole new appreciation for the tools and the work that Firefighters do,” she told the San Diego Union-Tribune.

For Amita Mota, the reality of regulations that prevent many formerly incarcerated individuals from getting professional firefighter jobs hit hard. After rising to the rank of engineer, the top fire service rank in her unit, Mota returned to her community several years ago. There, she found only closed doors.

The state legislature recently considered legislation that would open opportunities for rehabilitated women and men to become firefighters. Cal Fire has also started a program for formerly incarcerated firefighters to join its professional ranks, but most municipal firefighter jobs are closed to anyone with a felony record — no matter what their training and performance as inmate-firefighters demonstrates.

The obstacle is that most cities require full-time firefighters to be cross-trained as both firefighters and emergency medical technicians, and individuals with felony records are barred from getting licensed as EMTs in many California counties.

“It never matched up for me, because we were able to do this from prison but not from the street,” said Mota in an interview with Wall City. “We were a fierce crew. We responded to structure fires, vehicle accidents, performed CPR, everything.”

The same is true throughout the United States, even though many communities

struggle to recruit and retain firefighters. This is in part why communities like the Central California city Madera rely on inmate fire crews as part of mutual aid pacts. Inmate crews also provide a significant amount of Cal Fire’s seasonal staffing.

In California, there are about 4,000 inmate firefighters, forming around 220 fire crews at 44 conservation camps in 27 counties. They are operated by the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation (CDCR) along with the California Department of Forestry and Fire Protection (CalFire) and the Los Angeles County Fire Department. The camps are minimum security facilities, most of them located in rural areas where woodland fires are most likely. Three of the camps—Malibu, Puerta La Cruz and Rainbow—are for women.

The inmate firefighters are trained to the same standards as many urban fire- fighters. In fact, Mota’s five-woman crew handled all kinds of emergency calls, including many in Madera.
“We would respond to calls in the community. People knew if they saw a fire truck with all women, it was prob- ably us ‘fire girls,’” said Mota. “It felt good. I was doing good and helping the community, and everyone we worked with inside and outside of the prison recognized that.”
But not when it comes to hiring these people when they are released. Criminal justice reform advocates also raise questions about whether inmate fire- fighters are compensated appropriately or whether the CDCR firefighting pro- gram is another form of forced labor. In a recent New York Times article, Angela Hanks, director of the Center for Post- secondary and Economic Success at the Center for Law and Social Policy in Washington, said that inmate firefighters should be paid “a fair wage,” especially because it is such a dangerous job. At least six inmates have died while fire- fighting since 1983.

Shawna Lynn Jones, 22, a Los Angeles County Jail inmate firefighter died in 2016 while on duty. Jones’ name was added to the National Fallen Firefighters Memorial on the National Fire Academy grounds in Emmitsburg, Maryland.

“Shawna had a passion for sawyer work on the fire line and wanted to pur- sue this job in the fire service,” said the National Fallen Firefighters Foundation website. “Shawna gave her life so that others may live.”

Two other California inmate firefighters lost their lives in 2017. Despite the risks and career limits, Mota and other women say the experience is rewarding.

“I came into prison knowing I would be here for years, and this was something to work towards.” She was accepted into prison firefighting in 2012 after she served enough time on her 10-year sentence to qualify for minimum security.

Inmate firefighters are paid an aver- age of $2 per day, plus an additional $1

per hour that they are working on an active fire. Most inmate firefighters earn two additional days off their sentence for each day they serve as a firefighter, according to the CDCR.

Mota says the pay amounted to about 53 cents an hour, or weekly paychecks around $60. While this may seem better than nothing to some people, Mota explained that the pay was at times not enough.

“We had to buy deodorant, tampons, shampoo, and other basic things you need to live.” In addition, CDCR withholds 50 percent of an inmate’s pay if an inmate owes court-imposed restitution. “When you become incarcerated, it puts a financial burden on you and your family with tons of fees to pay back,” Mota said.

According to Mota, everyone around her supported her, and those who “intimately knew the firehouse did not agree with the amount they were paid.”

However, she did not let the pay — or status of being incarcerated — stop her. Affirmation by prison staff and others helped motivate her and her crew.

“They knew we were hard workers, we had integrity. We gave it our all. We had the respect of the correctional officers and fire captains and chiefs.”

Building up that confidence took time and a lot of work.

“Those calls were very intense,” she said, noting that her crew’s first car crash had three people who had to be extricated — and all three died.

“We could train all day long, but you’re never really prepared for what it is like to arrive at a scene like that. What you walk away with is something you won’t find in a book or in training,” she said.

Mota is not alone with frustration over the restrictions that prevent her and other formerly incarcerated individuals from getting jobs in California cities. She sees it as a contradiction that prevents people like her serve their communities constructively.

“They used to tell me all the time that if it was their daughter or their family in trouble, that they would want me on scene,” she said.

Skid Row Club returns to the Lower Yard for “OneHour Fun Run”

September 16, 2019 by Aaron Taylor

Judge Craig Mitchell with Coach Frank Ruona (back)

An award winning coach, a humanitarian judge, and two former San Quentin residents came together at The Q July 20, 2019 to participate in the 2nd Annual Skid Row Running Club One Hour San Quentin Fun Run.

The Skid Row Running Club was founded by Los An- geles Superior Court Judge Craig Mitchell, whose mission is empowering the most marginalized. Mitchell believes that by giving people more opportunities, they make better decisions. The Skid Row Running Club seeks to elevate the human condition one mile at time.

Phillip Peng with the Skid Row runners on the Lower Yard

“We just finished a documentary on The Skid Row Running Club. Its about Judge Mitchell, who trains drug addicts, homeless people, criminals and others to run marathons.” Said Gabi Hayes, a documentary Film-maker. “If the participants stay out of trouble, stay clean and train hard and stay with the program. Judge Mitchell will take them on a marathon some where in the world.” Gabi and her husband have followed The Skid Row Running Club to Rome, Vietnam, Jerusalem and headed to Ecuador to film the Club’s run in the Marathon de Guayaquil in October.

“We brought about 20 people with us today. I talked with many of them as I ran the track, and they all said they were having a wonderful time,” said Judge Mitchell.

Skid Row and 1000 Mile Club runners at the start of the race

During the event, Coach Frank Ruona was presented with the Jefferson Award by KPIX CBS for community service. “This is the first time 1000 Mile Running Club has had any outside running club to come in and run with us,” said Coach Ruona “I know these guys really appreciate it.”

Ralph Ligons, who is an original member and co- founder of The San Quentin’s 1000 Running Club with Coach Ruona in 2005 said the club is open to everyone who wants to join. He said that running improves your physical, emotional and mental health.

Eddie Herena 36, a alumni member of The San Quentin 1000 Miles Club and former San Quentin News’ Camera- man, was very instrumental in bringing awareness to SQ’s 1000 mile club during his time at The Q, Herena returned to support both Running Clubs and to encourage many of the men that he had come to know that they too could make a successful transition back into society as he has done so.

“Its not even about the run- ning club. Its beyond that. Iwasinthisplaceforeight yearsandIgottoknowalotof the people,” Eddie said. “It’s good to see them, but sad to see them still here.

Markelle Taylor 46, also a former resident of the Q and an alumni member of The San Quentin 1000 Mile Club, who won the 2018 Skid Row One Hour SQ’s Fun Run with a distance of 9.3 miles, returned this year to give back to the club that he got so much from. “I am not lying, I am happy to see you guys. I wanted that experience of being able to come in and then been able to just walk right back out prison,” said Markelle who paroled five months ago. “I do race on the weekends. I’ve ran a full marathon and a to- tal of 25 races since I’ve been out.” Since his release Makelle has ran in the Dip sea Race on June 9, 2019 and the 2019 Boston Marathon April 5, and it showed, because he ran a blistering 10-1/2 miles plus in 60 minutes to win this years SQ’s Skid Row Fun Run.

SQ’s 1000 Mile Club Coach Kevin Rumon, said that try to keep every member after they are parole connected to the Club to the extent they want to.

A total of 62 runners completed the race. After the race, every one chatted for a while as all the runners total laps were being counted, before making their way up to North Block Dining Hall.

“When I get around mile 20 in a Marathon. I say a prayer for the murder victims, be- cause I want in some way for their presence to empower me for the last 6 mile of the race.”

Judge Mitchell said addressing the crowd as everyone was socializing over a San Quentin Sack lunch.

—Leonard F. Brown contributed to this story

Landmark Prop.57 ruling: In re McGhee

July 15, 2019 by Aron Kumar Roy

Petitioner Tijue Mcghee with his legal guide Rudy Wilkins

A California appeals court has ruled that the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation (CDCR) has improperly denied parole hearings to thousands of incarcerated individuals.

Approximately 4,450 non- violent offenders who were denied parole consideration due to in-prison rules violations will now be eligible for early release due to the land- mark ruling, the San Francisco Chronicle reports.

“The whole objective was to not only find relief for me, but for all those who are similarly situated,” said Tijue McGhee, the petition- er in the case, “All people deserve the same treatment under the law.”

McGhee was sentenced to nine years in state prison, four years for a burglary and five years for a previous felony enhancement.

Under the regulations implemented after Proposition 57 passed, McGhee would have been eligible for parole consideration as a non-violent offender after serving four years.

He had been denied a pa- role hearing due to receiving a Division A(1) Rules Violation for possession of a weapon and for serving a Security Housing Unit (SHU) term, two issues which were related. As a result, McGhee lost good time credits and was also given a DA referral. He was convicted of possession of a weapon within an institution and sentenced to an additional four years at 80% as a non-violent offense.

“What inspired me to file was that the law was being introduced in 2016 [Prop 57] to further reduce the CA state prison population. It was supposed to be a tool for those who are nonviolent offenders as a remedy for further overcrowding,” said McGhee. “Also, nonviolent offenders would have liberty interest that was established by the state law which amended the California Constitution Article 1 section 32 A(1)(A).”

The latest ruling from the California Appellate Court is the third against the CDCR regarding nonviolent parole hearings, according to the San Francisco Chronicle.

The first ruling struck down restrictions that excluded non-violent three strike convictions from being considered for early parole. The second ruling, which was issued in January 2019, struck down an exclusion of incarcerated individuals who were previously sentenced for a sex crime, but were currently serving time for a nonviolent crime. The latest ruling bars CDCR from excluding nonviolent offend- ers from parole hearings due to in-prison conduct.

“The ultimate decision is to be made by the (parole) board, not the department,” said Presiding Justice Stuart Polack in the 3-0 ruling.

McGhee filed a Writ of Habeas Corpus in Solano County Superior Court while he was being held within their jurisdiction. His friend and legal mastermind Rudy Wilkins assisted him while he crafted the documents.

“More inmates should really begin a study of their constitutional privileges, provisions, and protections that are allotted to them as citizens of the United States,” said Wilkins, “I think this inspires an individual to not so much challenge the authority, but to challenge the procedure and to make sure that the procedure is accurate with regard to all current laws and provisions provided for prisoners.”

Jesse Vasquez, SQN former editor-in-chief paroled

July 9, 2019 by Kevin Sawyer

Jesse Vasquez, 36, former editor-in-chief of San Quentin News, paroled in late May from San Quentin State Prison after spending all of his adult years in prison and a little more than half his life.

Vasquez paroled with a different state of mind from the one his 17-year-old younger self arrived with in 2001.

“When I was a teenager, I knew I was already being formed for prison,” said Vasquez. “When I came to prison it wasn’t a surprise to me. I wasn’t bitter, angry or sad.”

“My mother used to tell me if I continued down that lifestyle I’d either end up dead or in prison for the rest of my life.”

A drive-by shooting, attempted murder and assault with a deadly weapon confirmed his mother’s warning and Vasquez was eventually convicted of those crimes. He once told a tour visiting the prison that he came to prison with a destructive past and no future.

Somewhere along the way, Vasquez became his own man and decided to change his life. “In the course of serving my time, I realized there was a better way to live,” he said. “It wasn’t always about trying to fit in with the crowd.”

In 2010, Vasquez earned his GED and never looked back. “It was more about finding purpose for myself,” he said.

Vasquez transferred from Folsom State Prison and arrived at San Quentin in November 2016. He frequently told the story about reading San Quentin News at Folsom, thinking it was “fake news” and the programs were not real.

Once Vazquez arrived at San Quentin, he immediately became involved with the rehabilitative programs. He joined the Journalism Guild, the newspaper’s farm team, and in April 2017 was hired as a staff writer for San Quentin News.

“My direct supervisor, Lt. Sam Robinson [San Quentin’s public information officer], was more like a mentor than a cop,” said Vasquez.

Four months later, Vasquez became the newspaper’s managing editor, and by August 2018 he was its editor in chief. “The guys in the newsroom accepted me for who I was, and I was able to grow because of it.” he said. “They’re family to me.”

“When I arrived at San Quentin, I started realizing how important it was to be open to other perspectives and cultures,” said Vasquez. “When I started working for the newspaper, I started to see the world from a completely different perspective.”

Vasquez recalled a time at the News when the former guild instructor, Yukari Kane, told the class to look at circumstances and events objectively because personal feelings might taint what we see.

“My direct supervisor, Lt. Sam Robinson [San Quentin’s Public Information Officer], was more like a mentor than a cop”

Having a different outlook, Vasquez enrolled in the Prison University Project (PUP) to broaden his horizon further. “I didn’t think I was close-minded,” he said.

He said that Amy Jamgochian, PUP’s project director, always challenged his thinking. “Every time I would try to explain to her my predicament in prison and how I felt powerless, she would have some smart remark about power dynamics, and how knowledge is liberating because it opens up your mind to a bigger world.”

“I thought I was open-minded, but because I was raised in prison I’d gotten stuck in that ‘it-is-what-it-is’ mentality,” said Vasquez.

The problems Vasquez faced in and out of prison, he said, could have been avoided if he’d taken the time to listen to people who were trying to warn him as they observed him take the wrong path.

Vasquez served his time at Folsom State Prison, Wasco State Prison, Calipatria State Prison, Ironwood State Prison, Centinela State Prison, and San Quentin.

With an eye on his uncertain future, Vasquez started completing a number of rehabilitative programs such as Restorative Justice, Non-violent Communication, Criminals and Gangs Anonymous, Green Life, Celebrate Recovery, Life Skills, Anger Management. He also learned trades, such as carpentry.

In August 2018, Gov. Brown recognized Vasquez’s rehabilitation and commuted his two life sentences to 15 years to life. He later appeared before the Board of Parole Hearings in February 2019 and was found suitable.

Vasquez is planning to earn a BA in psychology and to work with at-risk youth. “I plan on attending California State University East Bay and getting certification as an at-risk youth counselor,” he said.

Because of his time as the News’ top editor, Vasquez said he would also like to continue writing. He plans to stay connected to San Quentin News and is interested in covering issues at the front end of the criminal justice system—issues such as poverty and childhood trauma.

“I think, eventually, I’d like to write a screen play about what drives prison and how it’s almost impossible for people without a support group to succeed because all of the transitional housing programs offered by the state are in crime ridden, drug infested neighborhoods.”

In the past two decades of imprisonment, Vasquez said he learned a lot about himself. “I think my biggest take away from the whole prison experience is to admit it’s okay that you don’t know everything and to ask for help.”

Criminal canines given reprieve through rehabilitation at SQ

June 25, 2019 by Charles

Dogs with their inmate trainers at SQ firehouse

In the County of Marin, some animals that are stigmatized because they are pit bulls are given a second chance.

Mack is one of those dogs. He was afforded the opportunity to be trained and prepared for adoption through the Pen Pals program—a 14-year alliance between San Quentin State Prison and the Marin Humane Society. The program connects dogs with behavioral problems and nonviolent prisoners who want to care for them, according to the Marin Independent Journal.

Twice a week, Pen Pal volunteers provide training for the incarcerated men and help them learn to work with the canines. Dogs like Mack are kept night and day with SQ inmates until they become suitable pets for adoption. The prisoners also care for dogs that receive medical attention from Marin Humane veterinarians—those dogs that require physical rehabilitation and/or medication on a routine basis.

Participants in the program believe the process is profoundly therapeutic for dogs and humans alike at San Quentin.

According to the Marin Independent Journal, a special bond is forged between each dog and prisoner, and it gives inmates the chance to nurture living creatures who need help. And, of course, the presence of the pooches provides daily fun and excitement—a much needed relief from the rigors of incarceration.

Contrary to negative beliefs about pit bulls, Mack is just the opposite. Mack is a 3-year-old fun-loving pooch who came to Marin Humane Society as a stray. To better his chance for adoption into a permanent home, the Pen Pals team intervened and situated Mack with one-on-one, 24/7 love and attention at SQ. Jeremy, the inmate put in charge of Mack’s socialization training, forged a lasting connection with the pet.

Under the guidance of the Pen Pals volunteers, Jeremy trained Mack in all of the fundamentals of good canine behavior.

After several weeks of training, Mack appeared to be ready for a stable home. He was taken back to the shelter but showed signs of separation anxiety, according to the article. The Pen Pals staff figured that Mack should return to the prison to help work through what they viewed could be an impediment to adoption.

After a happy reunion, Jeremy gave Mack equal doses of behavior training and love. And eventually, Mack became suitable for adoption, demonstrating the success of the Pen Pal program formula. Not long after, a man and his son saw Mack’s photo on the Marin Humane Society website, “fell in love,” and ad- opted him, according to the article.

The Pen Pals program continues to facilitate productive relationships built on love between San Quentin inmates and dogs who get a second chance to find a forever home.