…Growing up in a single parent home, my mom taught us to love, not hate. She taught us to treat people like you wanted to be treated. She never discussed the issue of race with us, even though she cleaned houses for rich white folks. She was their cleaning lady by day, but I saw her as my mom. As a single mother of five, she was willing to hustle any way she could to make sure her kids had everything they needed. …

I remember growing up in Greensboro, North Carolina, in the ‘70s and ‘80s…When the crack epidemic hit the streets in the ‘90s, crime began to rise as more guns and drugs were sold in the Black communities. Children grew up watching their fathers and uncles mix up cocaine in the kitchen. By the time they were teenagers, many boys my age had become runners, and lookout boys for drug dealers. So much money was put in their pockets, it drowned out what educators were trying to teach them. Soon, the school dropout rate increased in the Black communities. Boys were becoming men “faster,” and their fathers were being carted off to prison or being dumped in the local morgue. …

For the past 7,300 days I have lived behind prison walls working on the issues that got me this sentence of life without parole. …My court appointed attorneys did not fight for me. An all-white jury heard my case. Since I did not have money to hire a post-conviction lawyer to do my appeals, every court has denied my Pro Se motions. North Carolina prisons do not have law libraries, so you must buy your own legal books or rely on others who have them. Many “lifers” are experiencing the same fate I have been dealing with over the past 20 years. The good news is that I did not let the unfairness stop me from rehabilitating myself! Through prison programs and correspondence courses, I have completed two college degrees and written and published four books. I facilitate Narcotics Anonymous meetings and mentor at-risk youths, all from behind these prison walls. Recently, the family of the victim of my crime wrote an Affidavit to the Governor of North Carolina asking for clemency on my behalf….

On August 16, 2020, my only son was murdered in another senseless act of gun violence. As I was grieving over my son, God reminded me that I must show forgiveness and grace to the person who killed my son, just as my victim’s family has shown me. This was a hard pill to swallow, but it allowed me to swap shoes with the people I hurt many years ago. Those who do not understand social justice fail to see the inherent value we have within to make a difference and call to the forefront those issues of racism, injustice, and any effort meant to silence the voices of the oppressed.