Prison Sentence? Question mark Period

Twenty-six years and yes, he’s still in San Quentin for a few more weeks, months, years? Wait and see never comes to an end. This is an update to those of you who responded to the last blog about Brian’s potential release from prison.

I didn’t hear from him about his parole and resentencing on Thursday as I hoped I might. After a couple of days of sending texts to some of his friends that were already paroled, nobody had an answer and the fact that he didn’t call wasn’t a good sign. Finally, a woman who I recently met inside that has been working in criminal justice for decades sent me an email:

Forgive my brevity and typos, but the short version is that he is not going home immediately, even though the judge ruled in his favor. It's the best news, but with a caveat.

What it all means for Brian is that he has technically been resentenced, so now he's eligible to go to the Board in the next cycle. And the judge set him up for success with the Board, for sure. She basically recommended him for parole - and she said that, in her career, she's never seen such a big community show up for someone like people did for Brian.

I got to talk to Brian shortly after and he's doing well. Being the remarkable human that he is, he said SQ must be where he's supposed to be for a bit longer. I agreed — because, coming up in the next few months there are a few opportunities for him to change the game, like only he can. Then he'll go home knowing his work at SQ is done. He can hit the ground running when he joins us out here. Plus, this gives him a chance to put his program creation before the CDCR Board, having already earned a judge's seal of approval for revolutionary work. That never happens!

This morning I drove the 15 minutes and made the 20-minute walk through security and clanging holding gates to get to the media center for my usual Monday meeting inside. I ran into Brian outside the education center and not long after in my typical fashion blurted out, “So you just didn’t want to leave me yet, huh Brian?”

He’s used to me and with a snicker went on to explain that the enhancements were dropped and the Judge was in favor of his parole but due to the three strikes and you’re out ruling, he would have to wait and go before the parole board. I asked him when that might be, and he simply had no idea. Could it be next week, or next month or (unthinkable to me) next year?

I wanted to know what enhancements meant and why he would have to wait and how was he feeling and… he simply didn’t know. He’s used to this drill. He is the definition of patience. He said at first, he just had to process the news and he showed me the paperwork and I said I don’t understand this and he said neither did he.

And his reaction to another year in prison? “That’s nothing.”

I ask the other men in the media center what they would think about hearing they would have to spend another year in prison. They all said the same thing, that’s nothing. Prison sentences vary and if you’re like Sadiq, one of the men I’ve been working with who has an 86 to life sentence, he said if he knew he only had five more years left of incarceration, he’d be one happy man.

I look at him and he smiles and when he smiles his entire face changes. I’ve pointed this out to him before because when we first met he looked much older to me than he does now. When he smiles, the years slide off of him like soap foam dripping off your skin down the drain. I see the man that he probably was before.

I ask him how he thinks Brian is doing considering the news. He tells me that he has no idea because Brian hides his emotions. I guess that would be a normal thing to do in prison; but still. And since Brian isn’t moving out yet, he’s still moving on to work with a different program inside San Quentin. I’ll continue going in and working on videos, just not with him.

I look at Sadiq and once again remark that I often feel like I’m spinning my wheels in here trying to get anything accomplished. At one point in my life, I toured prisons with a theatre company doing Becket’s Waiting for Godot (of all things) and this game is starting to wear on me, but how dare I complain.

Sadiq pulls a little keyboard out from under the computer and starts fiddling with it. I ask him if he knows how to play and he says no. I tell him I can teach him and his face lights up again and I show him the scale of “C”. I explain a little bit about whole steps and half steps and white notes and black notes and he’s genuinely into this and now we’re writing a new script.

“Hey Sadiq, we can even write a song,” I tell him. He starts playing the scale and I correct him so that his thumb slips under his third finger. I hear myself let out an audible sigh. Prison time is always interesting, and we will of course once again, just have to wait and see.