147. Earning Freedom (15.1), by Michael Santos

Published: May 5, 2022, 10:47 a.m.

Earning Freedom: Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term, by Michael Santos

Episode 14.2

Months 233-266: Life in Taft Federal Prison camp with Justin Paperny and teaching and writing for Joan Petersilia

*******

It\u2019s June 11, 2008. I stand in front of 30 other people who are serving time with me in Taft. We\u2019re sitting sitting under dim lights on cushioned chairs in the corner of an industrial warehouse. It\u2019s one of the few buildings at Taft Camp without air conditioning. The summer heat, together with swarms of flies, keeps us pulling at our shirts and swatting air. We\u2019re here because it\u2019s the only room large enough to facilitate a series of self-help classes that I enjoy teaching.

The warehouse has high ceilings with exposed pipes, wiring, and metal walls supported by thick steel beams. If it had a grass floor, the space would be sufficient for indoor football. But the floor is concrete. Except for the niche carved out for our class area, we see stacks of wheelchairs in various stages of repair. My roommate, David, is part of a crew that spends several hours each day refurbishing the wheelchairs for donation to Wheels of the World, a prison-sponsored program that serves needy communities.

Prisoners, even those in camp, struggle with their separation from society. Motivating men who worry about the challenges that await them, who wonder daily about their wives, about their children, about how they will find employment upon release, or about how to muster the strength to pass through years of imprisonment, requires preparation.

By this time, the summer of 2008, I\u2019ve had 21 years of preparation. I get a sense of fulfillment by teaching strategies, tactics, and concepts that have helped my adjustment through the journey. I always start by asking questions, like asking the men to define what it means to live as a successful prisoner. Or their interpretation of the best possible outcome for someone serving a prison sentence.

One person tells me that a successful person in prison is\xa0 \xa0\xa0someone who doesn\u2019t receive any disciplinary infractions.

I use a blue felt pen to write his answer on the whiteboard.

Another person tells me it\u2019s someone who can hold onto his family while in prison.

Other responses include a person who educates himself. Or a guy that manages to hang on to at least some resources in the world so that when he gets out, he has a shot at making a new star.

After writing answers on the board, I walk into the center of the crowd and face the board. I point out how prison administrators love to hear such responses, and I ask Mr. Moreland, the staff member sits in the back of the class, his thoughts.

He confirms that they\u2019re good answers.

\u201cGood answers, Mr. Moreland says,\u201d I repeat loud enough so everyone will hear. \u201cBut I\u2019d give each answer a C-minus at best, and I\u2019m being generous,\u201d I say.

Men shift silently in their chairs and the supervising staff member puts down his candy bar. I have their attention.

\u201cThose answers reflect the common response of all prisoners across the nation. But they\u2019re not enough. To be a successful prisoner requires you to do more.\u201d

I walk toward the board and check off the class responses as I work through each.

\u2014\u201cInstead of focusing on avoiding disciplinary infractions, a successful person selects positive activities that will contribute to success upon release.

\u2014\u201cHe doesn\u2019t only hold on to his family, a successful person works daily to strengthen family bonds and to contribute in meaningful ways to his family.

\u2014\u201cHe not only educates himself, but a successful person uses what he learns to enrich himself and society.

\u2014\u201cHe not only hangs on to resources, but creates new resources that will assure he leaves prison strong, with absolute certainty that he will succeed upon release.

\u201cThe key to a successful prison experience is to envision clearly how you want to emerge. Don\u2019t limit yourself to the minimum, but envision the best possible outcome, and use that vision as a beacon to make certain that every step leads you closer to the outcome you choose.\u201d

\u201cBut prison blocks us from doing things like that,\u201d Tim, one of the class participants objects. \u201cHow are we supposed to contribute to our families when we\u2019re not allowed to earn an income?\u201d

Over the next ten weeks I engage the class, drawing on my experiences to inspire them to create their own successful life plans.

\u201cSuccess does not materialize by accident,\u201d I emphasize, \u201cbut through deliberate actions.\u201d

In each session I challenge the men to accept full responsibility for their lives and to focus on what they can accomplish rather than the obstacles that limit them.

Justin Paperny, a white-collar offender who reported to Taft Camp in the late spring of 2008, becomes the most enthusiastic participant in my class. Justin graduated from the University of Southern California, then he went on to build a career as a young stockbroker. Indiscretion with his oversight of a hedge fund led to Justin\u2019s 18-month sentence for securities law violations.

\u201cThe thing is,\u201d Justin comments from his seat in the center of the class, \u201csome of us might have to start over completely when we leave here. Our convictions mean that we can\u2019t return to the same professions. With this dismal economy, it\u2019s tough to stay motivated when we know what we\u2019re facing outside.\u201d

\u201cThat\u2019s a good start,\u201d I respond. \u201cIt shows that you understand what\u2019s ahead. Since you\u2019ve thought about those issues, may I ask you a few questions?\u201d

He shrugs. \u201cGo ahead.\u201d

\u201cYou\u2019ve been here for a month now,\u201d I observe. \u201cTell the class how your life differs today from the day you surrendered.\u201d

\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d

\u201cHow is your life different?\u201d I press. \u201cThat\u2019s not such a tough question.\u201d

He laughs. \u201cWell, it\u2019s obvious. I\u2019m a prisoner and I\u2019m serving the sentence my judge imposed.\u201d

\u201cWell, we\u2019re all in prison. But what have you been doing with your time since you surrendered a month ago?\u201d

\u201cOh, I\u2019ve got you,\u201d he says. \u201cMostly I\u2019ve been exercising. I\u2019ve dropped 10 pounds and I\u2019m getting stronger with pull-ups. While I\u2019m here I intend to exercise regularly, to get back into great physical shape.\u201d

\u201cWho in here is exercising?\u201d I ask the class. Most hands shoot up. \u201cExcellent. I get the importance of exercise and I run every day. But exercise only takes up a small part of the day. It\u2019s only one part, like brushing my teeth. I exercise to stay fit, but one certainty I can count on is that no one is going to pay me for how many pushups I can do, or how many miles I can run when I get out of here. Unless you\u2019re planning for a career as a fitness model or a personal trainer, I suggest you devote more time to preparing to conquer the obstacles that you know await you.\u201d

\u201cBut what else can I do?\u201d Justin asks.

That\u2019s the question each man in prison must answer for himself every day. A successful person in prison would know how to answer. The answer for one person isn\u2019t going to be the same response that another prisoner gives. If employment prospects await, if family relationships are important, or if we need to educate ourselves further, we should know how to answer the question:

  • What else can I do to prepare?

When we live that way, we never stumble when someone asks a question such as \u2018How is your life different?\u2019 We don\u2019t stumble because we\u2019re on the course we charted for success, as we define success.

\u201cWhat if we don\u2019t know what we want to do?\u201d Charles asks. He\u2019s a middle-aged, disbarred lawyer from Newport Beach serving a two-year sentence for misappropriating funds from his client\u2019s trust account.

\u201cAre any of you familiar with Viktor Frankl?\u201d I ask the class. No one raises a hand.

Viktor Frankl was a medical doctor in Germany. The Nazis threw him and his family into concentration camps. They murdered his family, but he survived. Dr. Frankl later wrote that as long as man could find meaning in life, he could overcome anything. He spent three years as a Nazi prisoner, never knowing from one day to the next whether he would be alive the following day.

Frankl drew strength by helping others. Like Frankl, any of us can build strength by helping others. We should be open to acknowledging what brings meaning, happiness, positive challenges, and stimulation to our life, regardless of where we are. By helping others, we open possibilities for finding our particular path through challenge.

I give examples describing how other prisoners I\u2019ve known used their time inside to effectively launch new careers. I tell of one prisoner who studied science during his term, and left prison to launch a company that converts discarded cooking oil into fuel for heavy equipment. I talk about another prisoner who secured several offers of employment simply by writing unsolicited letters to prospective employers from his community, describing his work ethic, and asking for a chance. The point I try to make, and the example I try to set, is that we cannot wait until release. We have a responsibility now to anticipate the problems we\u2019ll face after prison, and we must prepare every day to overcome them.

*******

\u201cWhy do you write so much?\u201d Justin, the former stockbroker, asks as he sits across from me at the round table where I work.

\u201cBecause I can\u2019t sell stocks,\u201d I answer him.

He laughs. \u201cI\u2019m serious.\u201d

\u201cI am too. I write every day because I want to become a better communicator. I plan to build a career around the experiences I\u2019ve had in prison. The strategies that pulled me through can be applied to any kind of adversity. Since my prison record will make it difficult to support myself any other way, and since I need to support my family, I invest between 10 and 12 hours every day writing, reading, or preparing presentations.\u201d

\u201cI wish I had that kind of clarity about my future.\u201d

\u201cWhen do you get out?\u201d I ask Justin.

\u201cI finish my sentence in August of 2009.\u201d

\u201cWhy don\u2019t you do the same thing?\u201d I ask.

\u201cWhat do you mean? Write? Speak?\u201d

\u201cSure. Why not? You\u2019ve got a degree from USC. You were a registered investment advisor caught up in an ethics scandal. Don\u2019t you think others have made the same bad decisions?\u201d

\u201cProbably.\u201d

\u201cOf course they did. If you watch the news, or look at our prison system, you\u2019ll see that millions of people lose their way. Figure out how you can help them, and you\u2019ve got a new career. You can spend your time in Taft like I do, preparing for a career upon release.\u201d

Justin locks his fingers behind his head and leans back. He pauses in thought while I write. \u201cDo you think there\u2019s a market for that?\u201d he asks.

\u201cOnly if you prepare. You\u2019ve got to create the market, and if that\u2019s what you want to pursue, you\u2019ve got to work as many hours as I do.\u201d

*******

The schedule I keep doesn\u2019t lend itself to building friendships. Also, I search for privacy wherever I can find it, nurturing my need for solace by writing, reading, and exercising. When I spend time with others it\u2019s usually related to my work.\xa0 I interview other people for a story I want to write, or I practice my speaking skills by teaching a class. Sometimes I\u2019ll work one-on-one with another prisoner, like David, helping him prepare for the GED exam. \u201cWrite short sentences using words that you\u2019re certain you can spell correctly\u201d is the advice I drill into him during our lessons. He passes the essay portion of his exam and continues to study as a college student.

Justin, however, isn\u2019t studying for a GED. He has a university degree and a history of earning a high income. When people mistake me for a man who recently surrendered, or when their jaws drop as they learn I\u2019ve been a prisoner since 1987, I feel a sense of validation, as if the plan I set decades earlier worked out. I want others to see me as a citizen with something to contribute. That validation comes when men like Justin seek my counsel.

Justin takes my advice and begins working closely with me. He gives up television and table games. He devotes himself wholeheartedly to exercise and preparation for life after prison. We become close friends. I suggest steps he can take to position himself for a new career as a speaker and consultant upon his release.

I show him how I reach beyond prison boundaries to connect with the world by writing for my website. He launches his own website at JustinPaperny.com. I urge him to write a manuscript. Since he has never written for publication before, I work with him to outline chapters for a new book that we call, Lessons From Prison. Our friendship grows when he introduces Carole and me to his family and friends who visit each week.

\u201cI\u2019ve told Brad about your work ethic, about all you\u2019ve done in here and your plans for when you get out,\u201d Justin tells me after Carole and I meet some of his friends in the visiting room. His friend, Brad Fullmer, had a superstar career in professional baseball. He\u2019s one of the few major leaguers to hit a homerun in his first at bat for a professional team. He capped his long career in professional baseball by stealing home during the World Series for the California Angels. \u201cWhat do you think about letting Brad and me make an investment in your career?\u201d Justin asks.

\u201cHave you told him that I\u2019m scheduled to serve five more years?\u201d

\u201cHe knows,\u201d Justin tells me, \u201cand I know. Some investments take years to pay off. We think you\u2019re a winner and we\u2019d like to participate.\u201d

\u201cLet me think about it.\u201d

In weighing the possibility of selling a piece of my future earnings, I sit alone in my cubicle. I\u2019m on a plastic chair, leaning back against a concrete wall, propping my feet against the steel post that supports the rack I call my bed. My steel locker has two shelves on the left that hold my folded gray sweats and underwear; it\u2019s above the shelf where I store my dictionary, papers, and dusty running shoes.

Over the past 21 years I\u2019ve had to store my possessions inside these types of lockers. But from these lockers with only pens, discipline, and work, I\u2019ve created a life for myself. I look at the pictures of Carole that I\u2019ve taped to the inside of my locker\u2019s doors. She\u2019s the most beautiful woman in the world to me, not only because of her sparkling eyes and smile, but because of the way she has believed in me, given herself so completely to me, strengthening me in ways that no one else could as she served this sentence with me. I look forward to making her life better, just as she has made my life better.

I pull Carole\u2019s picture down and hold it in my hands. The image is a poor substitute for holding my wife. On non-visiting days, I sometimes need this tangible feeling of her in my hands.

During the five years we\u2019ve been married, my writing has generated more than $200,000 in after-tax earnings for Carole. That\u2019s not much by the standards of society. Still, I\u2019m immensely proud to have earned those resources from prison. I created those resources with pens, paper, and perseverance. Those funds supported her and Nichole, allowing them to move from state to state following my \u201cprison trail.\u201d They allowed Carole to return to college. Despite tremendous hardships and obstacles, she graduated first in her nursing class and now earns her own income. I don\u2019t need to sell a piece of what I\u2019ve worked so hard to create, yet I want to give my wife the security that savings in the bank can provide.

I stare at the concrete walls and block out the buzz from the fluorescent light to calculate a fair, present-day value for earnings that will not begin to flow until my release from prison, in five years. What a ridiculous concept. I\u2019m a prisoner, and after more than a quarter century inside, conventional wisdom would question whether I could earn minimum wage, if I could find employment at all. Whatever earnings come, I\u2019ll have to create them. And who can judge the market or anticipate earnings for a man with five years remaining to serve?

My experience as a speculator in the stock market convinced me that an investment is only worth what the next investor is willing to pay for it. I\u2019m encouraged that Brad and Justin want to invest in my potential. Yet I\u2019m also aware that I don\u2019t have a line of investors waiting to hand me a check for the right to a percentage of my future earnings, if I ever have any earnings.

I negotiate a number. It\u2019s enough to ensure that I can live a full year upon release without earning a single dime, enough to provide Carole with security while I finish serving this sentence. In exchange for money in the bank today, I sell the right to ten cents of every dollar parts of the Michael Santos brand will earn. Time will tell whether I sold too cheaply, but the agreement is fair to me today. When I tell my wife about the check Brad is going to hand her in the prison\u2019s parking lot after our visit concludes, her smile makes the deal worthwhile. I\u2019m easing Carole\u2019s life during the worst economic recession of our lifetime, and I\u2019m coordinating the deal from prison.\xa0 That\u2019s priceless.

*******

In the fall of 2008, I sit beside Justin as we watch election results. Voters just elected Barack Obama as America\u2019s 44th President. I began serving my term under Ronald Reagan. When the first George Bush spoke about a kinder, gentler America, I thought change might come. Bill Clinton encouraged me to hope. With George W. Bush, I shook my head and accepted that his call for second chances and compassion would never extend to those in prison. President-elect Obama calls for a bottom-up government that values all American citizens. I\u2019m filled with hope because it seems America has elected a leader who understands the needs of our society, all of our society, maybe even those in prison.

Carole and I enjoy a wonderful visit on Friday, March 27, 2009. I call her in the late afternoon to ensure that she arrived home safely. She gives me great news when she answers. I learn that Joan Petersilia, a distinguished professor from the Stanford law school, sent a message through our website. Early in my term I began sending out unsolicited letters to academics I admired. I remember writing to Joan on two separate occasions.

I always felt like a fisherman at sea, casting lines, hoping to make a connection. I understand that, sometimes, those connections would take years to materialize. Sometimes people respond, other times they don\u2019t.\xa0 For every 100 letters I send out, I expect to receive a single reply.\xa0 I consider that ratio a wonderful success, even when the reply doesn\u2019t come for years, as it has with this message from Joan.

Dr. Petersilia wrote that she\u2019s been using my work for years as a resource for teaching her classes, which is wonderful news.\xa0 She astounds me with an invitation to contribute a chapter for The Oxford Handbook on Sentencing and Corrections, a new book she is co-authoring with Kevin Reitz, a law professor from the University of Minnesota. Professor Petersilia is one of the nation\u2019s most distinguished penologists, serving as an advisor to the governor on matters concerning the state of California\u2019s prison system. Legislators and other government leaders from across the nation seek her counsel. As one of one out of 2.3 million prisoners in the United States, I feel honored that even knows who I am.\xa0 Her invitation to publish alongside her leaves me amazed and deeply honored.\xa0 I set to work at once, eager to finish the chapter long before the due date.

I consider these types of writing projects as enormous opportunities.\xa0 For decades I\u2019ve worked hard to earn credentials and develop skills that would allow me to make meaningful contributions to society, but I\u2019m in a different phase of the journey now.\xa0 Every day it becomes more apparent to me that I must make a shift in strategy.\xa0 I\u2019m in the final months of my imprisonment now, and I have to think about deliberate steps I can take that will help ease my transition into society upon release.\xa0 It\u2019s coming.

Writing for Professor Petersilia is a wonderful opportunity. The investment of time will introduce my work to thousands of scholars who have an interest in improving our nation\u2019s prison system.\xa0 When I emerge from prison, I\u2019ll need to earn a living, and doing so will require that I surmount some enormous hurdles.\xa0 Since I intend to build a career around all that I learned as a long-term prisoner, I\u2019ll need the types of professional relationships that distinguished scholars like Joan Petersilia can open.\xa0 She is the type of role model I need, and as I\u2019ve done with all of my mentors, I intend to prove worthy of her support.

Besides building contacts, however, I also need to focus on steps I can take to build an income stream.\xa0 It\u2019s going to cost me an enormous amount of financial resources to settle in society.\xa0 I don\u2019t know where Carole and I will make our home, but wherever we go, I\u2019ll need to have a substantial savings account in place to cover the costs of my reentry.\xa0

I calculate how much I\u2019ll need to spend once I walk out of prison. During those first few weeks of liberty, I\u2019ll need to purchase items that most people accumulate over decades.\xa0 With the cost of clothes, computers, and housing, those expenses, I\u2019ll drop a minimum of $40,000. Fortunately, as a result of decisions I\u2019ve made along the way, I expect that I\u2019ll have more than twice that amount in a savings account that I\u2019ve been building. \xa0I\u2019m determined to succeed. By sowing seeds along the way, I\u2019ll walk out of prison after 26 years with sufficient resources to ensure that nothing is going to block my pathway to success.

I\u2019m determined to leave prison ready, without external influences like economic challenges to block me.\xa0 I\u2019ll have values, skills, and resources in place to make it.