Prison Professors With Michael Santos

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To #prepareforsuccessafterprison a person should practice #authenticity. These lessons help all #justiceimpacted people, including those who work in #corrections. https://prisonprofessors.com/reentry-programs/

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People who #prepareforsuccessafterprison celebrate the small #achievements along the way. Good advice for #justiceimpacted people like @shonhopwood. Examples on self-directed #reentryplans. https://prisonprofessors.com/reentry-programs/

People who #prepareforsuccessafterprison celebrate the small #achievements along the way. Good advice for #justiceimpacted people that want self-directed #reentryplans. https://prisonprofessors.com/reentry-programs/

125: Earning Freedom with Michael Santos Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term I’m reading from chapter six of Earning Freedom: Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term, by Michael Santos. In this reading, we’re covering chapter Six: 1992-1995 Months 62-84: Chapter Six: 1992-1995 ******* The air brakes sigh as the bus stops in front of the administration building of FCI McKean. As I look through chain-link fences separated by razor wire, I remember my first close look at a prison, back in 1987, when the DEA escorted me through the gates of MCC Miami. McKean has that same non-threatening feel of an office park. Without the impenetrably high concrete walls and gun towers of Atlanta, McKean looks almost welcoming, at least from the outside. I suppose the years have institutionalized me. While hobbling off the bus I inhale the scent of evergreen trees. McKean is set in the midst of northwestern Pennsylvania’s Allegheny Forest. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been in such a natural setting, double, razor-wire topped fences

Podcast 124: Earning Freedom with Michael Santos Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term   I’m reading from chapter six of Earning Freedom: Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term, by Michael Santos. In this reading, we’re covering chapter Six: 1992-1995 Months 62-84   It’s Thanksgiving, 1992, just before my sixth holiday season in prison. Despite the forbidden affair I’ve been carrying on with Sarah for the past six months, today she tells me that she needs to move on with her life. She understands the risks associated with our trysts and she’s come to the conclusion that the stress would be too much to bear for another 21 years. I’ve hardened emotionally, as I’m now familiar with the concept of loss. I’ve been expecting this moment, anticipating her good-bye since our first kiss.  Grateful that it has lasted this long, I’m prepared to move forward. ******* “What’s up? Did she finally dump you?” Windward asks, sensing my despondency when I return to the cell and drop to my rack without undressing. “I told you she’s my law

I’m reading from chapter five of Earning Freedom: Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term, by Michael Santos. It's the story of my prison journey. For a full copy, visit PrisonProfessors.com   Months 58-62 Since I received the divorce papers from Lisa, my interactions with women have been limited to Ms. Stephens, my work supervisor, and Susan, my friend from high school with whom I’ve had an ongoing, friendly correspondence. But those relationships don’t have any possibility for intimacy. This thing with Sarah is different.  She lives in Atlanta, and her proximity causes me to fantasize that I could seduce her, make her my woman.  Given the rules of this place, however, initiating physical intimacy will be a major challenge.  Still, forced celibacy doesn’t diminish my thirst for love or my desire for sex. Thoughts of love have been on my mind for years. Another prisoner, Eugene Fischer, fed my hopes with a story about Orianna Fallaci, a world-famous journalist who loved a man who served time in a Greek prison for an

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I’m reading from chapter 4 of my book, Earning Freedom: Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term. For more information, please visit PrisonProfessors.com EF 4.3 / Chapter Four: 1990-1992 Months 37-57 ******* I’m excited to see Bruce, my mentor. He’s a bear of a man, big in every way, and through our correspondence we’ve built a friendship that has deepened. I look forward to our weekly exchange of mail and quarterly visits. He now lives in Chicago, having recently retired as a professor. He continues to use his immense talents, and he gives of his wisdom generously with hopes of making societal contributions through his teachings. Bruce introduced me to his wife, Carolyn, who sometimes accompanies him on visits, and through correspondence I’ve met his daughter and sons. The bad decisions of my past don’t matter to him. My efforts to become a good citizen define me in his eyes. He strives to round out my cultural education by exposing me to art, opera, and theater, and he often stresses the importance of fully investi

I’m reading from chapter 4 of my book, Earning Freedom: Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term. For more information, please visit PrisonProfessors.com Chapter Four: 1990-1992 / Months 37-57 ******* A week later I’m sitting on the lower rack when a guard flicks an envelope beneath my door. I lean over to pick up the envelope and read “University of North Carolina” on the return address. For a moment I just hold it in my hand, tracing my fingers over the embossed lettering and the university logo. The wreath signifies academia, and a charge of excitement runs through me. I’m a 26-year old man, yet I open the envelope with the same giddy anticipation as a child anticipating birthday money from his grandparents. Dr. McPherson’s letter expresses his enthusiasm to mentor me through my term, and he asks me to mail him the visiting authorization form. He also writes that I should soon receive a book he sent separately, from the university’s bookstore. Wanting to share my good fortune I pass the letter to Windward for him

I’m reading from chapter 4 of my book, Earning Freedom: Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term. For more information, please visit PrisonProfessors.com Chapter Four: 1990-1992 / Months 37-57 Contractors complete the remodel of B cellblock and I join the 600 prisoners who were confined with me in A cellblock for our relocation. It’s not far from the old housing block to the new one, just across the polished corridor. I climb the zigzagging metal staircase to the top unit, B-3 carrying all of my possessions. I have sneakers, t-shirts, sweats, khakis and toiletries bundled up and tied inside my blankets and sheets that I carry over my shoulder, like a hobo. The move lifts my spirits. It’s a fresh start in a clean, new environment. Although I’m still in the same prison, the remodel replaces the hundred-year-old decaying building with modern plumbing, working lights, and air conditioning. The remodeled B cellblock brings an upgraded quality of life, much better than I’ve known for several years, and I’m learning to appr