Changing Perspectives (2004)

The emotional temperature of the nation may be apathetic, while a cloud of pessimism hovers above our heads. But my tall glass of Welch's grape juice is half full, and I keep drinking. Despite the recent election of George Bush, the continuous assault in Iraq, and an absence of flu vaccine, I continue to be thirsty for peace and seek the guidance of sunlight during this journey.

I don't enjoy being identified by my worst possible act. I am much better than a teenage killer, but murder is such a terrible episode — one which has residual effects for many years. Yes, I shot and killed a young man on Newbury Street in Boston's Back Bay in 1971, and I have relived the experience in my conversations with others for over 30 years. Prisoners are often labeled by the typical aspects of the crime. Who died? How much money? What role did you play? Murder usually tops the hierarchy of the prison subculture as the ultimate crime, while child molestation is found at the bottom rung.

One of the tenets of this mysterious and unwritten "convict code" is to not ask a prisoner about the crime. However, society people are not aware of custom and often present an initial question about the circumstances that resulted in this predicament. Why are you here? What happened? Though I would prefer to introduce the person I am today, the wreckage of my past requires that I attach those turbulent teenage years to my present dialog. By doing so, I realize the listener may be repulsed by the behavior of this youth and, thus, the current narrator.

My first entrance to the maximum security prison (Walpole) was directly into the infamous 10 Block, the worst placement in the Massachusetts prison system. After being sentenced to natural life, I was transported by van to the segregation unit, stripped naked, searched thoroughly, and instructed to walk the tier to the empty cell. So, this slender teenager, wearing only a large afro, strutted past a line of very dangerous convicts. "Who's that?" I heard from a cell as I passed by. Another voice announced, "It's a new guy." I was quite stressed upon entering the cell, but I realized I had contributed to the situation by my own specific behavior, and change was not only possible, but necessary.

There were several things I didn't like about myself then, and I knew I had to work to become a better person. It would be 10 years before I was permanently able to stop using alcohol and drugs and maintain a lower-security status in the prison system. In 1983, I received an Associates Degree in Business from Massasoit Community College and two degrees (a BLS in 1986 and an MLA in 1990) from Boston University. Through program activity, I acquired new skills to use during moments of crisis and developed confidence and courage to offer service to others. It was by helping my peers and emerging as a community resource that I discovered specialties about myself and I appreciate these qualities — I hope you will, too.

The advisory Board of Pardons recently forwarded a majority vote recommendation to Governor Romney to commute my life sentence, which (if approved) creates parole eligibility.

My tall glass of Welch's grape juice is half full, but instead of being nearly finished, I have added ice cubes, filling it to the brim.

Published on www.edgeboston.com on 11-29-04