Humans of San Quentin

You are invited to Mahj & Mischief: A Ladies’ Night, hosted by Humans of San Quentin. Spend an evening with good company, a lively game, and a meaningful cause. Every seat at the table supports our work to share the stories of people who are incarcerated and to remind us that behind every prison number is a human being. RSVP and give through the link in bio, and share this invitation with someone who would enjoy joining you. #MahjAndMischief #LadiesNight #Mahjong #MarinCounty #Fundraiser #HumansOfSanQuentin

I was always known as just Moenique’s son, or just Dai Dai’s, Ashia’s, Billy’s, and Jacinto’s brother. That was me in every one of our growing homes. Living with my mother had its problems. The biggest one was that I was her odd child, the different one. I was the raw hot dog eater, the Guacamole Dorito lover. There are no cool nicknames for the kids with social issues, or at least the introverted issues that I had. I always liked being different. I think it was because where I am from, the standouts are unbothered, left alone. Popular to me was always the feeling of a pop quiz in every new neighborhood we moved to. I constantly, on the spot, had to take it, but I never had any of the passing answers. What do you like, I was often asked, and at my WWE response, it created barriers between my siblings and I as well. I eventually got lonely at being myself. I was a heart on my sleeve kid, too much of a giver. I would sacrifice my health and well being for anyone who needed it more than me. Those things did nothing for me. So I threw them away and became desperate to fit in. Being the only you felt like walking into a room of fancy dressed attire with raggedy clothes accompanying you. In time, the staring starts, then the chatter, then all my defense mechanisms. I turned to crime to heal all my mental troubles. Instead of making some therapist rich by the hour, I decided to conform to my environment. I went from toy action figures to toy guns, watching fake WWE fights to the real fights in school and the neighborhood. They even gave me a cool nickname eventually. Today, fourteen years into my incarceration, I throw away the nickname. I rebuild. I refocus on rehabilitating. I refuse to be anything but redeemed by society and most importantly by God! Allance Incarcerated: 14 years Housed: Grafton Correctional Institution, Ohio

💌 Every letter tells a story, and every story deserves to be heard. At Humans of San Quentin, we believe in the power of human connection beyond prison walls. Through letters and shared experiences, we are reminded that even the smallest acts of kindness can create meaningful connections and lasting impacts. Every voice matters, and every individual has a story worth sharing. By encouraging empathy, understanding, and compassion, we can break down barriers and recognize the humanity in everyone. Thank you to everyone who continues to support our mission of amplifying voices, challenging stereotypes, and creating a more compassionate world. ❤️ #HumansOfSanQuentin #HumanConnection #StoriesMatter #BeyondTheWalls #Empathy #SecondChances #CriminalJusticeReform #Community #Storytelling

Join us for an evening of mahjong, conversation, and community in support of Humans of San Quentin. Mahj & Mischief: A Ladies’ Night takes place Wednesday, November 18, from 4:00 to 8:00 PM PST in Belvedere. Whether you are a seasoned player or picking up your first tile, you are welcome at our table. Bring a friend, a sister, or a colleague, and help us continue sharing the stories of people living inside prison. RSVP and give through the link in bio. #MahjAndMischief #Mahjong #LadiesNight #Fundraiser #HumansOfSanQuentin

Your past may explain you, but it does not have to define you. The outcome will be different when the choice is different. God gives his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers. I am tired of fighting my battles! I am now realizing I have been fighting against God this whole time because of my stubbornness. I keep searching for someone or something to fill this emptiness, and I believe only God can fulfill my broken heart. For the first time, I have hope. I feel God in my heart. I have grown to love people like God loves people, unconditionally. The very person who deserves your love least presents you with your greatest opportunity. Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth Tasha Incarcerated: Unknown Housed: North Carolina Correctional Institution for Women, Raleigh, North Carolina

A heartfelt thank you to the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation (CDCR) for your continued support and belief in our mission! 💙 At Humans of San Quentin, we believe in the power of storytelling to build understanding, compassion, and human connection. Your partnership allows us to work with incarcerated individuals as they share their stories, experiences, and perspectives with the world. Together, we're making a meaningful difference, both for those inside and for the communities their stories reach. We are incredibly grateful for your partnership and for helping us continue this important work. Thank you, CDCR! 💙 #HumansOfSanQuentin #VoicesFromInside #SecondChances #StorytellingHeals #RedefiningIncarceration

My mind is never here. It is trying to be somewhere else. For me, inventing is like Einstein/Benjamin Franklin. My mind keeps going somewhere it’s never been, so my output is just invent on and on. I have over 30 of them, and I must say I am good. I give you this one: a waffle dipped in egg batter for Waffle French Toast with honey and cinnamon. Oh yeah, don’t forget the cinnamon, okay. And while this is fun for me, it is also very serious. My name is Raymond. First of all, just to let you know, I am currently incarcerated for a charge of criminal threat, a non-violent case under California’s three strike law, going into my 24th year of a 25 years to life sentence. I have been in contact with the USPTO. I am registered with them, and one of my inventions was trademarked. I was accepted in a pro bono program after trying for over nine years to be accepted. I am trying to find assistance with a patent attorney or agent. I have ideas about things such as designs, drawing, and patent briefs. All I am trying to do is good for all the wrongs I have done in my life. I have a lot of ideas that will help everybody. I am not in this for the money. I am doing this because my little sister passed away in 2007. She was handicapped and one of God’s little angels. I love you, Sharon. I just keep coming up with a lot of ideas that will help everybody and make a lot of money for Shriners Hospital for the kids like my little sister. Human beings have always had powerful imaginations. This, of course, is a gift from God. Imagination leads to innovation. This is how medicines were created. This is how the blueprints for automobiles and airplanes were conceived. Imagination is wonderful. It is useful. It is also enjoyable. I love to allow my mind to open up and think freely for a while. Since I was a child, I have often thought of how life would be if I had the powers of my favorite superhero. One of my closest friends likes to imagine somewhere in the vast universe, God has a planet totally devoted to dinosaurs. Like I said, our imaginations can be fun. I have more than 35 new inventions to share. I am good. Just to let you know, my physical appearance doesn’t define who I am. It’s our heart that matters. When I had my son... he is 43 years of age. He is my heart. Yes, I am lonely and addicted to the Lord. We don’t know how God will use the circumstance of our life, but we can rest in the knowledge that God knows everything about us and is directing, though His sovereign hand may have been hidden. He’s never absent. God loves you, and so do I. Raymond, 69 Incarcerated: 25 years Housed: California Institution for Men, Chino

At 12 years old, with a bleeding heart, I find myself in a park, lost with nowhere else to go. A chilly December night freeze bites deep within my soul. I lie here on a playground slide, gazing up at empty blackness, the lonely sky staring back at me. I bundle up with layers of clothing, yet can’t seem to shake the midnight cold. My thoughts feed the monster that boils beneath the surface, the fear and dread of an unsafe world. How did I end up here? I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired. The sticks I can stand, the blows I can bear; they heal. However, the words cut deeper, with scars that never mend. “No one WANTS YOU HERE!” my auntie shouts. I rummage for courage to finally leave. Free as a bird, I run and run. I load my bags with hopes and dreams. On a bike I pedal, not peeking back. Into the night I disappear. Here seems like a great place to lie and wait. I begin to ponder about life’s unknowns. The fear creeps up my spine. The words resurface like a thousand cuts. Hate rages on and on. I’m exhausted of running and running. I’m drowning with bruises and scars. Hopelessness begins to settle. What happens if I die tonight? I find myself locked in a dark closet many nights as a kid, laying there, heart fluttering a hundred miles per hour, feeling afraid and alone. Walls rapidly closing in, darkness slowly engulfs. The silence is deafening, only sounds of whimpering as I cry myself to sleep. I dream a dream of a beautiful cherry tree, which sits in front of a home where my parents and I used to live. My parents’ fights are always loud and violent. Like howler monkeys, they scream and scream. Daddy’s head is about to explode. Mommy goes flying across the room. “STOP IT, DADDY!” I scream. I run to her to see if she’s OK. I’m scared and afraid with heart pounding fear, because I know what comes after. I’ll be next if I don’t run fast enough. I rabbit out and up to my place of safety, high in the branches of our cherry tree. 30 years later, at the age of 36, I still find myself at times laying here in a dark cell, heart fluttering, feeling afraid and alone. Flashbacks after flashbacks, with knots in my stomach. I gently close my eyes and slowly drift back, back high up in that cherry tree, where the troubles of life fade away, where it’s quiet and peaceful. A place, just for me. Years later, on my journey of self-discovery, I eventually found that scared little boy within me. He lived behind many walls and mazes, afraid of human contact. Years disconnected from love, he forgot how to feel. I began by sitting with him... I let him know he is not alone, and that he is loved by me, that he is truly good, regardless of what people told him his whole life. I watch as this scared boy cries tears of joy for the first time, just from words of affirmation. “Life isn’t fair; however, I’ll be here to walk it with you. Though Mom and Dad abandoned you, it wasn’t your fault. I know you are angry, and that’s okay. You must not let that anger consume you, or you’ll burn your world down. I am here... Let me help you. I know everything feels unsafe right now, but it will soon pass. I know you can’t understand why people beat you. I can’t understand it either, but not everyone will hurt you. There are people in this world willing to help, if you would only let them in.” “I see you tried to fill that void with so called friends and fleeting lust. That hole in your heart cannot be satisfied with external things. Numbing the pain does not make it go away. Ignoring it will just make things worse. There will be many dark days you must go through. I will always be there by your side... and... remember, I will always Love you.” Today, that little boy in me is safe, thriving, and loved. I know I am good, kind, and compassionate. I am caring and loving. I am NOT my worst mistake. I am a flawed human being, but are not all human beings flawed? Is it not what makes us human? How many little boys and girls are still hiding out there, lost and alone, yearning to be hugged? I hope anyone hurting can find that child within. It’s not easy; self-reflection never is. The journey is long and difficult. However, I can promise you the journey is worth traveling, and you never have to go at it alone. Today, I look in awe and wonder at that little boy in me, scars and all, each one beautiful. He is still able to laugh with joy, and it’s because he knows he’s loved. Minh Incarcerated: 17 years Housed: California Men’s Colony, San Luis Obispo

5,019 people in prison have written to us since 2020, from all 50 states. They have no internet, just mail, so every number in this video is a person who picked up a pen and reached out. California leads with 1,763, and Oregon, Arkansas and Mississippi are growing fast. We want every voice, and we write back to every one. Which state are you from? Reply and tell us. Help us keep writing back: humansofsanquentin.org/donat…

As time passes me slowly, my thoughts invade my soul. My past pain and haunting memories crush me. They invade what’s broken, devouring what is whole, as confusion contorts my reality. My sanity runs far away. My mind swallows every emotion. My body screams, it’s all I can take. Save me, for I am broken, my pieces lost, blown away in this treacherous wind, for my mind has been left unspoken, each word forgotten, unheard of, left truly unsaid. Depression The longing for compassion is sad, the begging for kindness is real, the yearning for love is unattainable. Depression haunts me, this is how I feel! Every day I strive for better, every night I struggle to succeed, every night I plea to Jesus to be king of my very own knees. It’s been a long winding road to follow, never knowing what lays ahead. Life tests me, breaks me, torments me. It taunts me to give into death. It tosses my every emotion till I sink from where I have been. I’ve been lost, I’ve been left, I’ve been unstable & broken, I’ve been unable to find the strength to really just live. Acceptance? The agreement, the conscious decision, the acceptance of my reality starts within myself. It’s the change I need to be made. Hopefully I made a better choice? Only just within myself. Can I struggle? Will it be hard? Will reality sometimes slip far away? Will I beg for my soul to turn to brighter days? To want better but accept the worst is a pain that haunts my memories for accepting forgiveness. Is the hardest thing of turning my life could ever take but the acceptance within a person might be the truth to every lie? I accept better. I accept my reality. I accept every positive change, but only if... It starts within myself. I only write poetry. I write from the heart and my experiences. I have a whole book of poems I’m writing. Read their full story and learn how your support helps us share thousands of voices from inside. Link in bio. Anita, 35 Incarcerated: 2 years Housed: Louisville Metro Department of Corrections, Kentucky

Love is being seen. Love is being heard. 💛 Diane joined the very first episode of The Loving Uprising with Jessica Aviva to talk about what can happen when we stop defining people by their worst moment and start listening to their stories. They spoke about human connection across prison walls, the assumptions we carry about incarceration, restorative justice, and what it means to build a more compassionate world. We’re honored that Humans of San Quentin was part of episode one. Listen to the full conversation and let us know what stayed with you. #HumansOfSanQuentin #TheLovingUprising #RestorativeJustice #IncarceratedVoices #HumanConnection #Storytelling #PrisonReform

What’s inside November Mail Club? 💌 Art, poetry, recipes, stories, and voices from people inside prison, all packed by hand into one envelope. Discover the people behind the work and help their stories travel beyond prison walls. Join Mail Club and get the next issue in your mailbox.

5 minutes later, I was in front of the judge. Well, this picture was the last day I’ve seen my mom smile. I won’t let my family see me. It’s too far from where they live. But I was playing Tejano music and singing, then I put on the song “Baila” by A.B. Quintanilla. She laughed so hard and said, “Quit playing, you’re not gonna get locked up.” Me: OK, Mom, I trust you. Mom: We’re gonna go eat dinner at U & I in Corpus Christi. Me: Ew, OK, bet. I’m incarcerated. I looked at Mom and told her I need a raincheck on that dinner. She said, “OK, mija.” So it’s OK. I call her and let her know I applied for Peer Support Specialist Champion. This time I’m doing isn’t going to waste! I wanna help in any way I can, wherever I can help. I probably can help with Humans of San Quentin. I’ve been incarcerated 1 year 6 months, and I’ve learned a lot about myself in a program for Domestic Violence class, grief, trauma, sexual trafficking. It’s called O.R.T.F., Our Road To Freedom class. I love it. I’ve learned so much about myself. I’m so happy about you, Humans of San Quentin. You can help when I’m out. I promise I wanna come help your great group. Finally, someone to show our gratitude to! Thank you for everything you’re doing for all of us in here. I hope that you really know it’s a huge blessing. Sending you appreciation for this. Thank you again for everything y’all are doing for everyone! They Say Time Is a Thief They say time is a thief, Sitting in a jail cell dealing with grief. Trauma, abuse, domestic violence, Time steals moments and keeps you silent. They say time is a thief, Sitting in a jail watching time slowly go by, Dealing with shock and disbelief. Hours, minutes, seconds, days fade away. Time steals memories I’ll never get back today. They say time is a thief, Sitting in a jail cell missing my life, Knowing I’ll never get that time back, then Slowly time starts giving back to me, time to make some things right. What was stolen is now being restored. They say time is a thief, and ironically, I’m given time. Sitting in a jail cell, time is given me freely: time to heal, time to feel, time to speak. Time is no longer a thief. Time is giving me life to breathe. Sitting in a jail cell, I can finally be free. Estefana Incarcerated: 1 year Housed: Plane State Jail, Dayton, Texas

A life is more than its hardest chapter. In his letter, Joseph reflects on his time on death row: the anger he felt toward the world, the anger he felt toward himself, and the pain of losing a friend to execution. Today, he’s living in Sacramento, has earned a degree from Bakersfield College, cheers for the Golden State Warriors, loves dogs, and is thriving. In this reel, our intern Hyla reads Joseph’s words and shares his story. Take a moment to listen. #HumansOfSanQuentin #StoriesThatMatter #SecondChances

In 2010, I was kicked out of a prison in Muskegon, MI and shipped to one in Coldwater, MI. It was there that my life would change forever. My name is Mario. I am from Detroit, Michigan, and I have been incarcerated since 1999 for the charge of homicide. I have dedicated my incarceration to correcting the flawed thinking utilized by me as a result of childhood trauma, an unknown wounded inner child, and an unfortunate upbringing inundated with child protective services and neglect. Not a positive introduction, I agree, but my truth nonetheless, which brings me to something that I would love to share with you. Succinctly, up until that point, I served my incarceration drinking, gambling, and perpetuating the crimes that led me to prison. One day, I realized that I wanted something different, but I did not know how to acquire such a thing. There was a posting of applications being taken for the dog program offered at the facility. Dogs in prison were a new thing at that period, and I had zero confidence that I would be selected to participate. But there were powers in play greater than me. Those powers blessed me with the opportunity to participate in the dog program, “The Greyhound Inmate Experience,” in 2012. The current dog trainers shared their experiences of the job with me and informed me that a new shipment of dogs would be arriving in one week. I was excited and anticipatory of the chance to receive a new dog and learn to train and create my own experience. Then it happened. The day arrived, and I headed to the room where the new dogs were held until taken to their living space. Boy, was I in for a surprise. To my surprise, the trainers failed to mention the condition the dogs arrived in. Coming straight from the racetrack in Mobile, AL, the dogs were emaciated, riddled with fleas and ticks, open wounds, filthy, and terrified. I could not help myself. I cried as I helped the babies, and it was in that moment that my actions finally resonated within me. This was the pain my actions were inflicting on families via my poor decision making. The dogs were my catalyst to ameliorating me and becoming the man writing this letter. Today, I am a proud owner of a Bachelor’s Degree from Calvin University, and I currently train dogs for the blind through a program called “Leader Dog for the Blind.” The dogs provided a mirror for me that forced change and created a human. I am forever thankful to the greyhounds and the almost 10 years I had training them. And I would never have an opportunity to speak about a moment in my life without it being about them. Thank you for reading. Hopefully, my picture can represent a human being that made a terrible decision, owns the bad choice, has used the time incarcerated to correct my thinking, and now lives as a man filled with love, compassion, empathy, and critical thinking, all thanks to some abused retired greyhounds that saved me. Mario Incarcerated: 27 years Housed: Ionia, Michigan

💌 “Your past may explain you, but it does not have to define you.” In a heartfelt letter to the outside world, Tasha shares her journey toward faith, self-discovery, and unconditional love. Alongside her words, her vibrant artwork offers another glimpse into her creativity and the hope she continues to nurture. Her story reminds us that behind every incarcerated person is a human being capable of growth, change, and connection. ❤️ At Humans of San Quentin, we believe every story deserves to be heard, and every person deserves to be seen beyond their past. #HumansOfSanQuentin #IncarceratedVoices #HumanityBehindBars #EveryStoryMatters #SecondChances #RestorativeJustice #HopeAndHealing #HumanConnection

He earned his high school diploma in Cook County Jail 🎓 "No matter how bad it gets, never stop learning." 3 people, 3 stories, all from inside. Full newsletter at the link in bio. #humansofsanquentin #prisonstories #education #secondchances #fyp

In 2021, I was in a near death, life changing, very traumatic situation that I'm still processing and learning to cope with. Luckily, (I believe) God gave me the strength to fight long enough, and by His will I was able to find my way out and get to help. I still suffer, probably always will from a traumatic brain injury, frontal lobe damage, which has a lot to do with a person's memory, short and long. So, I struggle each day with memory loss. At first, remembering names of my own family was difficult. As time goes forward, it gets easier. Up until my arrest, I just used drugs to numb all the pain. Now, learning how to feel all these emotions is new and harder to face. My fiancé of 4 years recently took his own life, struggling with life also. He was in the country jail. The emotions I feel for that loss are very extreme. A pain so bad, some days it takes my air out my lungs. I have a beautiful 5yr old daughter, who is my heart, my whole world. Being gone, missing important moments eats at me each day. I try so hard to let those feelings motivate me, not bring me down. This is my second time doing this. My 1st time was almost too easy. I was barely 20 years old. At that age, I couldn't be told nothing. I'm still young now, but back then, not only was I reckless, but I didn't see a reason for change. So, here we are. This time ain't no joke, yet I have grown to be grateful for this length of time to work on myself and try to be a better person for my own good before anybody else's, keeping my girl as my #1 motivator. It's a scary thought, to be serving 16 1⁄2 years at 50%, outdated late 2033, especially when you're 25! That same feeling keeps me focused and helps me not let anyone get me out of my body! I'm struggling daily with life, but I'm a work-in progress! I'm grateful for this time to mentally learn how to deal with life and still become the successful woman I strive to be, the mother my daughter needs me to be. I'm grateful to still be alive, breathing. By God's grace! I hope my story helps another see that they can do it. Life is tough, but so are we! Bless up! Read their full story and learn how your support helps us share thousands of voices from inside. Link in bio. Brienna, 25 Incarcerated: 2 yrs Housed: Decatur Correctional Center, Illinois

In 2021, I was in a near death, life changing, very traumatic situation that I'm still processing and learning to cope with. Luckily, (I believe) God gave me the strength to fight long enough, and by His will I was able to find my way out and get to help. I still suffer, probably always will from a traumatic brain injury, frontal lobe damage, which has a lot to do with a person's memory, short and long. So, I struggle each day with memory loss. At first, remembering names of my own family was difficult. As time goes forward, it gets easier. Up until my arrest, I just used drugs to numb all the pain. Now, learning how to feel all these emotions is new and harder to face. My fiancé of 4 years recently took his own life, struggling with life also. He was in the country jail. The emotions I feel for that loss are very extreme. A pain so bad, some days it takes my air out my lungs. I have a beautiful 5yr old daughter, who is my heart, my whole world. Being gone, missing important moments eats at me each day. I try so hard to let those feelings motivate me, not bring me down. This is my second time doing this. My 1st time was almost too easy. I was barely 20 years old. At that age, I couldn't be told nothing. I'm still young now, but back then, not only was I reckless, but I didn't see a reason for change. So, here we are. This time ain't no joke, yet I have grown to be grateful for this length of time to work on myself and try to be a better person for my own good before anybody else's, keeping my girl as my #1 motivator. It's a scary thought, to be serving 16 1⁄2 years at 50%, outdated late 2033, especially when you're 25! That same feeling keeps me focused and helps me not let anyone get me out of my body! I'm struggling daily with life, but I'm a work-in progress! I'm grateful for this time to mentally learn how to deal with life and still become the successful woman I strive to be, the mother my daughter needs me to be. I'm grateful to still be alive, breathing. By God's grace! I hope my story helps another see that they can do it. Life is tough, but so are we! Bless up! Read their full story and learn how your support helps us share thousands of voices from inside. Link in bio. Brienna, 25 Incarcerated: 2 yrs Housed: Decatur Correctional Center, Illinois