I developed resilience through trauma.
PROLOGUE
At the age of 19, I committed a crime that would change my life — and the lives of everyone around me — forever.
As fate would have it, on my 21st birthday, I was sent to prison; convicted of first-degree murder and sentenced to life without the possibility of parole. I served 24 years before Governor Jerry Brown, with historically unprecedented mercy, commuted my sentence in 2018. At my first Parole Board hearing, I was found “suitable” for release, and on October 23, 2019, I miraculously walked out of prison, after being sentenced to die behind those electric fences and razor wire.
Today I am an independent coach working to build resilience through unpacking trauma, disappointment, and shame.
I do this work because I was saved by this work.
This is my story.
CHAPTER 1: Growing up.
From birth I grew up neglected, abused, and socially isolated.
When I was eight, a 17-year-old boy in my neighborhood molested me, threatened to kill me if I told anyone what he was doing, then terrorized me whenever we saw each other. By 12, I was carrying weapons, taking drugs, skipping school, angry, and aggressive; I knew no one would protect me, and there was no one I could trust.
As a teenager, my fantasy was that of the dark vigilante. Slasher film villains were my heroes, like Michael Myers from Halloween and Jason from Friday the 13th. They all had what I desperately wanted: power, control, and the ability to bring vengeance on a society that had rejected them. My way of thinking was if people feared you, they respected you, so violence seemed my only viable path to self-worth.
Trauma led to trauma.
CHAPTER 2: My crime.
I believed that violence was the path to redemption.
As a teenager on the westside of Sacramento, disrespecting someone could be fatal. One night, an acquaintance at the time, Gunner Johnson, a small-time drug dealer, waved a gun in my face. It enraged me. All I could think about was showing up at his place, taking his guns and money... and killing him. I recruited an acquaintance and together, after midnight the next night, we invaded Gunner’s house.
In my senseless rage, I shot Gunner as he tried to get out of bed. Then I shot and killed Patrick - a stranger to me who was innocently crashing on the couch for the night. I reentered the bedroom and shot Gunner again. We collected his gun safe and his money and left the house leaving everyone for dead.
Thankfully, Gunner survived.
Trauma led to exploration.
CHAPTER 3: Prison.
Being sent to prison did not change me at first.
If anything, it made me more resolute. I wore my crime like a badge of honor and would fight anyone who doubted me. With time, age, and self-reflection I finally embraced a deep sense of responsibility and remorse. I began to accept what I had done and seek out the tools that could guide me toward true forgiveness for my victims and myself.
For years I participated in a Buddhist sangha, and I still meditate today. Later I cultivated my innate drawing abilities and found my voice and a vehicle to give back to the community and others through painting. My commitment and talent led me to co-found the Healing Through Arts prison program that ran for over a decade. It was a safe space for inmates to explore our inner lives and express ourselves through the visual arts. As I gave more business and entertainment leaders tours of our program, word got out and several LA galleries became interested in our work. Over time a good number of our paintings were purchased by collectors with the proceeds donated to charity.
Exploration led to healing.
CHAPTER 4: Group healing.
In 2010, despite countless bureaucratic hurdles, I started the first men’s direct amends group held inside Lancaster prison.
Here, inmates could learn to be vulnerable and honest; confronting their greatest fears as an amends to those they harmed, hoping to give them whatever they needed for their healing journey.
The most lasting takeaway for so many of my fellow lifers was a powerful sense of responsibility. White, Black, Latino, or Asian, we all came to realize that we were far from alone in our pain that we didn’t think anyone could relate to or understand. We learned to acknowledge and accept the real, wounded human beings sitting in that circle, especially ourselves.
Word about this restorative program reached the nationally respected journalist and CNN commentator Van Jones. It was his production company that created the distinguished series, the Redemption Project.
Healing led to amends.
CHAPTER 5: Amends.
Gunner and my meeting for the first time in 23 years on CNN’s Redemption Project hosted by Van Jones. Image via Dream Corps.
My world shifted when Van Jones’ Redemption Project gave me the opportunity to meet face-to-face with Gunner Johnson, 23 years after shooting him.
In our TV special (episode 7 Left for Dead available on HBO Max), our separate stories unfolded in parallel and then, with three cameras rolling, we met, we talked, we listened, and we were shocked to relive what happened that night from the other’s point of view. After five hours we got up to leave the room, yet held onto each other and wept together like lost brothers.
Amends led to connection.
CHAPTER 6: Connection.
Today Gunner is one of my closest friends.
His testimony at my parole hearing helped pave the way for my freedom and we’ve been working and sharing adventures ever since. Together, we’ve created a parole board program that accompanies both the offender and survivors of violent crimes to take a deeply re-injuring event (the parole board hearings themselves) and transform it into something that has the potential to mend deep wounds. He was even best man at my wedding.
Connection led to purpose.
CHAPTER 7: Today.
My life is a living amends.
I work as an independent coach, unpacking trauma, shame, and disappointment through building resilience. I create programs that help people heal and mitigate the effects of trauma.
My coaching work focuses on disrupting the trauma and shame cycle by exploring ways to hone one’s inner resilience, in part by helping my clients develop a mindfulness practice.
The most painful parts of my life have given me the strength to look inside and grow. I adapted the framework of my leadership program inside and apply it to high-performers struggling with burnout and lack of purpose.
My goal is to continue to use my experience in service of helping as many people as I can.