Who Am I Really?

Who am I really? Who do I really want to be? I was recently propelled into crisis mode by a situation involving the only two people in my life who have known me since before I came to prison. Both were long time friends with each other and I love both of them dearly. A man broke that precious bond of friendship between these two women, and I was forced to choose which one to support based only on what I was being told by each of them. My reaction to the cause of this situation, what was being said, and the direction in which it was headed as well as the pain it caused me demands that I answer these two questions or face dire consequences.

In 1998 as a troubled teenager with a not-so-good family life, I earned a spot in one of the state's most violent penitentiaries, populated by nearly 4,000 of the worst men the world has to offer; the worst of the worst. Being small, white, and so young in such a place is not easy; you are prey and must figure out how to survive. You must choose between forfeiting your integrity and manhood for protection, or fighting for your life—alone. I chose to fight.

In my particular circumstance, self-preservation meant I had to become more ruthless, more violent than those around me. I had to be willing and able to hurt, and maybe kill, with no hesitation or compunction. Initially, it was about survival. The things I was forced to do to survive in the twisted world of prison earned me a measure of respect and fear. With that fear and respect came a semblance of power and control over those around me. My intelligence and natural ability to lead allowed me to quickly work my way up the ranks to the top tier of the complex political structure of the prison system.

To be a respected leader in prison society, you must follow the unwritten “Convict Code.” This code is a somewhat skewed code of ethics and morals that requires a convict to maintain a certain level of integrity by his behavior, actions, and responses to the actions of those he must live with. This at times requires me to impose penalties and retribution on those in violation of the code. Over the past twelve years I have been responsible for many things that would be considered inexcusable outside of prison society. The convict code has become ingrained in my person and has become a natural part of my thought process. It is almost instinctual for me to act according to this code…

I did not realize this until I became involved in the situation between my two best friends. I have long since left the penitentiary for three other prisons, each many degrees less violent and chaotic than the last, in an attempt to escape being a “convict” and try to become a better person; one who would be able to live a respectable life outside of prison. I thought that I was doing quite well avoiding situations that would draw a convict response, thinking that when I was no longer forced to live with people I could not stand, I would be fine.

In certain situations, I still have the desire to react a certain way, and that is understandable. Everybody experiences the desire to want to hurt someone in anger sometimes. I feel an immense amount of guilt for all that I have done, and realize that it is a step in the right direction. I am in the process of learning how to handle all of the guilt even though I have yet to forgive myself for a number of things I have done that went beyond survival and were done out of sheer hate and anger.

My first reaction to the situation I was placed in by my dearest friends was one of extreme anger. The pain that it inflicted on the three of us was like a personal attack and, in the world in which I live, a personal attack requires retribution. My first “want” was to eliminate the person who caused the problem. That desire was so strong it was enjoyable just thinking about it. The only reason I was able to restrain myself was due to the respect and love I have for my friends and the knowledge of the pain it would inflict on them.

Because of that, I was afforded time to think, and I discovered I had not really become a better person. I was just avoiding the situations that brought the convict out in me. The convict was in my marrow.

I do not want to be a convict anymore. I do not want to be some vicious, violent criminal. Yet it is a part of who I am because I have lived among them, and lived like them, for so long. Coupled with the tremendous guilt and the revelation of it all, I face an almost unbearable inner conflict on a daily basis.

So who am I, really? Who do I really want to be? Being forced to choose which friend to stand by also meant I would lose the other one. I had to make the right choice and also decide how to deal with the pain and anger doing so brought out in me. I chose to support one because I believe the most wrong was done to her by both her husband and her former best friend. I changed my focus from the problem and the cause of it to minimizing the effects his leaving them has on the life of my friend and her children.

Though the situation is fluid and things continue to happen to fuel my anger, I no longer have any desire to hurt the man who is the cause of it all. My concern has become the well-being of my friend and her children and the assurance that they are able to have the best life possible in their time of suffering and need.

I believe I have found a direction away from the monster I have lived as for all of these years. Though I am unable to answer the question of who I really am, I believe I am now on the way to figuring out who it is I want to be. If I want to have a chance a life beyond the penitentiary, I must figure out the answer to both questions, and work on merging them into the same answer.

That is my goal, and I have only 400 days in which to accomplish it.