What It鈥檚 Like to Serve a Life Sentence Without Parole
I鈥檝e been incarcerated for the majority of my life, spending more time in prison than in society. It鈥檚 where I grew up. I was arrested at the age of 23, and I鈥檓 now going on my 35th year of incarceration. I was sentenced to (LWOP).
I don鈥檛 think anyone really knew when I was sentenced in 1992 what 鈥渓ife without parole鈥 meant. There was a lot of speculation. The courts said I would probably do 30 years before I went up for some sort of review. That time has passed.
I remember not being able to grow a beard when I first came in. I was so na茂ve, ignorant, and undereducated. As I was growing up in prison, some of my mentors told me, 鈥淗ey, get comfortable. You鈥檙e gonna be here for a while.鈥 They were right. We, as a society, sentence people like me when we鈥檙e really young to die in prison because we are seen as incorrigible.
When you are sentenced to life without parole, there is a loss of autonomy. You are constantly being controlled. You are . There is no hope. Either you become resilient and continue to grow and push yourself or you can view life with a fatalistic perspective and be destructive. And I鈥檝e chosen鈥攁nd most of the people I know who are serving this sentence have chosen鈥攖o better ourselves. The rebellious part of us says, 鈥淲e鈥檙e not incorrigible, so we鈥檙e gonna do well, and we鈥檙e gonna show the system that we are not the worst things that we鈥檝e ever done.鈥
I was raised in a house with domestic violence and verbal abuse. My dad called me 鈥渟tupid鈥 and 鈥渄umb鈥 for doing childhood things that are pretty normal, so I grew up not having a lot of self-esteem. I gravitated toward materialism to feel like I was worth something.
When I was sent to prison, I was encouraged by people who saw my natural talents and said, 鈥淗ey, you have some really good critical-thinking skills.鈥 My attorneys told me the same thing during trial, including, 鈥淵ou could have been an attorney.鈥 I wasn鈥檛 exposed to that on the outside. I wasn鈥檛 exposed to some of the professions I know I could do today, so I gravitated to the underground economy.聽
In prison, once I was mentored and encouraged to do better, my first accomplishment was a few years after I had been sentenced: I earned my first paralegal certificate and got pretty good grades. I continued to get encouragement from people around me鈥攖eachers and sometimes some of the correctional officers. And as the opportunities arose, I continued to take advantage of them.
I have learned I can do so many different things. I have good analytical skills and a great ability to synthesize different topics. I鈥檓 good at helping people heal. I鈥檓 very good at business. There鈥檚 a number of things I could have been had I had the opportunities others have had. Nevertheless, I do take responsibility for responding in a negative way to my environment.
It was pivotal for me to recognize my worth and my potential. It sparked the idea that if I can do this, what else can I do? I have since earned four Associate of Arts degrees, a doctorate in ministries, and a Bachelor of Arts in Communication Studies from Cal State University in Los Angeles.聽
I was fortunate enough to start a program at Lancaster State Prison when I was held there. The facility was called the Progressive Programming Facility, and the administrators were open enough to allow us to create our own program. Most of us鈥攁bout 600鈥攈ad sentences of life without parole. We agreed nobody could join the program who had a gang membership or used drugs.
For nearly 18 years while I was there, we ran classes, and sometimes we ran a group called Men for Honor. We had 19 different classes at the height of our group, and we had guys cycling in and out, about 150 guys a month. We were just training each other to be better people. It was almost like a college campus, other than the physical layout, and that helped us a lot.
I was selected to teach creative writing, and our group decided to publish an anthology of our stories, of how we came to prison. We thought it would be a good way to give back to society and give kids an admonishment of how we came to prison, either through rebelliousness, not listening to our parents, or listening to older homies who were guiding us in the wrong direction.聽
Our book was called Horrors From the Hood for Kids to Beware. It鈥檚 part of the bigger picture of us trying to show we are redeemable and we鈥檙e not the worst decision we ever made.聽
It鈥檚 been phenomenal to contribute to other people鈥檚 growth, to watch each other grow in here, because we鈥檙e basically growing up together. Even with a life without parole sentence, having an education has kept us out of trouble, kept us productively busy.
I think accountability is really important, because we鈥檙e being punished and there鈥檚 an aspect of revenge to that. But our punishment does nothing for the people who we鈥檝e harmed. I know victims and survivors want to understand what happened to them. They want to have questions answered, such as: Why did it happen? Why were they chosen? Will it happen again? Do we realize the impact and chaos we鈥檝e created in their life, the losses we鈥檝e caused them to suffer? Are we remorseful?聽
Those of us with LWOP aren鈥檛 allowed to go before parole boards. And because of that, we can鈥檛 be examined and have experts tell us where we stand or give us some kind of feedback on our rehabilitative efforts. Our victims don鈥檛 get to have accountability.
Therefore, before I even talk about me getting out of prison, I want to acknowledge that accountability is really important for us and our growth. It鈥檚 a measuring stick, and it鈥檚 a motivation to do better. But it鈥檚 also important for people who鈥檝e been harmed.聽
One of the things I study is trauma. We have a lot of systems that are well meaning, and they might have worked well in the 14th or 15th century because we didn鈥檛 understand trauma. But today we understand it, and what I see is we just keep harming one another.聽
We鈥檝e come a long way with recognizing trauma in the legal system. For youth offenders and anybody who doesn鈥檛 have LWOP, trauma is considered a mitigating factor. People consider the fact that trauma survivors don鈥檛 have great impulse control or don鈥檛 think through consequences. But people with LWOP are excluded from such considerations. Had I not had that sentence, I would have been given a chance to go to the parole board and make my case.
I鈥檓 almost 60 years old now, and there鈥檚 also , which is another mitigating factor. Behaviorists have said our chances of recidivism are much lower. But, again, people who are sentenced to LWOP are excluded from that.聽
If I could design a better system, I would want us to at least be heard so we鈥檙e not constantly and eternally invisible, which is a kind of trauma in and of itself. We鈥檙e existing but not existing.
I hope that if I am able to earn my freedom, I can help my family through a current crisis. I have a 13-year-old nephew who is going in the same direction I was going in. He is curious about street life and hustling. I talk to him over the phone and I write him letters and do the best I can to steer him in the right direction. He鈥檚 really phenomenal, a smart kid with a lot of potential. But too often I feel like it comes off as me preaching to him.聽
In here, we model good behavior to one another, and that really works well because situational learning is key. You can tell someone in abstract terms all day long about different philosophies of living, but when you can actually show it and model it, I think that鈥檚 what makes the difference. And I can鈥檛 do that for my nephew while I鈥檓 in prison.
I think that that鈥檚 one of the reasons why we have a generational problem of people coming to prison and making bad decisions. There is a 鈥渂rain drain.鈥 People who are educated and affluent move out of neighborhoods and don鈥檛 come back. So I didn鈥檛 have the mentors I needed. And then there are people who educate themselves and transform themselves while in prison, but then we鈥檙e stuck in here and can鈥檛 give back to our community and be models and mentors in our communities.聽
My family is harmed with me being in prison all this time, even though they consider me rehabilitated. My nephew is suffering. So you have this continual cycle. I wish we could be more oriented toward helping people heal.
I wish we could design our systems to be more restorative justice oriented and to focus on healing, because it is possible. They say 鈥渉urt people hurt people,鈥 and a lot of that is because of traumatic reenactment. But 鈥渉ealed people can heal people.鈥 And that鈥檚 what I try to do in prison, that鈥檚 what I do through the phone with people in the community.聽
I hope one day society will open its mind to the possibilities of such a world instead of the philosophy of punishment and revenge.
What could my life have been had I lived in such a world? Throughout history Black people have always had to prove they鈥檙e human. Remember ? We need to live in a world where there鈥檚 more compassion, where there鈥檚 more empathy, and where we all see each other as human beings.
As told to Sonali Kolhatkar
Dortell Williams
is an incarcerated essayist serving his 36 year of incarceration without parole in California. He is currently earning his Master of Arts through California State University, Dominguez Hills, and is founder of the nonprofit organization Taming Trauma. He can be reached at [email protected].
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