On this date 57 years ago, age 19, I slouched in front of a judge in Santa Ana, California.
He seemed unhappy. He read from a pre-sentence report that made unflattering remarks about my juvenile history. And then he sent me to California State Prison. Six months to ten years for possession of a minute amount of heroin, residue in a cotton. Not enough for one person to get high.
Three days later deputies locked me onto a chain with several other pissed off people. They took us to the Southern Reception Center at Chino. A few months later I was trudging the yard at San Quentin.
What I remember most about those years is deep anger. I seethed at the police. The injustice of the courts. The prison guards. The system. I hated all authority. And it colored my life for years.
But things change. As I grew older I realized that - justified or not - anger was destroying me. I couldn't use enough drugs or alcohol to cover my toxic, self-destructive, emotions. When I was conscious I was unhappy.
I'm not sure why I changed. But after 16 years in and out of the system I surrendered. I finally recognized that I was the problem. Sure, our system - like any system - is imperfect. But should I let it destroy me?
I stopped looking at the system as the enemy. In fact, I realized that many times the police rescued me from myself. If they hadn't saved me from my habits - by arresting me - I'd likely not be writing this today.
Now, whenever things don't go my way, I look in the mirror. And like magic my problem appears before me. And as soon as that happens I also identify the solution.
And I don't care what the problem is - the solution starts with me because that’s all the control I have.
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