Today I’d like to read short prose that I wrote and then kind of explain where that comes from. Title is, “I’ve Taken Off My Mask.”
I’ve taken off my mask so I can see the right way. I’ve taken off my mask to face each new day. I’ve taken off my mask, let tears flow from my eyes. I’ve taken off my mask, letting you and others inside. I’ve taken off my mask, knowing hope is not gone. I’ve taken off my mask, others in Christ I can lean on. I’ve taken off my mask, I will not give up. I’ve taken off my mask, I’m looking up. I’ve taken off my mask, I know I’m not alone. I’ve taken off my mask because I think God’s still on the throne. I’ve taken off my mask knowing I can believe. I’ve taken off my mask, He and advocates change situations for me. I’ve taken off my mask, I stand in faith and prayer. I’ve taken off my mask, please help my path, have a new way.
I know this is just short prose, but sometimes I come across some or sometimes I write some that — it’s hard to take off your mask in here after forty plus years in prison, sometimes. But today, I believe in the possibility of prison reform, presumptive parole, second chances, second look laws, parole board reforms or sentencing projects, all because there are people and advocates out there fighting for us. There’s so much on both sides of the political spectrum and the moral spectrum that are involved in movements that I hope they one day promote restoration, rehabilitation and putting aging families back together, and giving people who made mistakes at a young age, like me at twenty-one, a chance to give back and share testimonials that can hopefully educate and keep others from taking the same path that caused us, and others, so many scars.
If you’re listening to me right now, I want to say, ‘Thank you.’ A friend in [unclear] sent me this the other day, the quote was, “Sometimes nothing good happens to you yet, because you are the good that happens to others.” Even after forty plus years, I tried daily to give back, I try to mentor. I try to put positive out there in the universe. I stay strong for my family and friends, and I want to be a blessing to other people; help them change and learn. Yet, I admit I’m tired. That doesn’t keep me from staying true to my character. I like no longer being overlooked and my voice and truth are heard. Today, I thank everybody who helps me feel that worth in my soul and my spirit. I thank you to those who see lives like mine and others that have value and they stand with us and give us a voice and a purpose. Say thanks to advocates, groups, families and friends who have still stood in the trenches with us. And I’m going to pray that April, which is considered the month of second chances, will bring miracles in my life and a few others. Thank you.
These commentaries are recorded by Prison Radio.
