Artwork,Prose, & Poetry

JAMES “JIMMY” SOTO | I AM MOLÉ Who am I? I am molé. The sweet and spicy, reddish-maroon colored Nahuatl sauce whose Aztec ancestors believed it came as a gift from their main deity, Quetzlcoatl. I am the chiles, the root vegetables, the pumpkin seeds, the sesame seeds, and the Mexican chocolate that give molé its unique, earthy flavor. I am the way that it is slowly cooked and blended for perfection. Where do I come from? I come from over 500 years of oppression caused by the conquistador legacy. The mixing of Spanish and pre-Columbian, Meso-American, indigenous blood. I come from two worlds, never really belonging to either. I speak the oppressor’s language. I have adopted his dominant cultural norms. Where do I want to go? I want to go where the construct of skin color doesn’t divide but unifies. Where ideological disparities are blended, like molé, into human equities.

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DARRELL WAYNE FAIR | JUSTICE Justice is deeply rooted in a sense of community and the other. Its pronouns are we, us, and ours. Justice is present. Justice is treating others as you would have them treat you. Justice is mutual and equitable. Justice is sweet to the taste. Both warm and cool to the touch. Justice is soft and firm. Justice is all-inclusive and universal. Justice has a colorless hue. Justice lives in our hearts, and originates from the collective love and experience of our ancestors. Justice is happiness and sadness, tears and laughter. Justice never changes; it's eternal in nature. Justice is right, and right on time. Justice rises with the early morning sun, and watches over us under the shadow of the moon. Justice is the sound of children at play, and that deep guttural laughter of our grandparents. Justice is the dessert after a filling meal. Justice is consistent. Justice is you and me living in solidarity. Justice is love Justice is Just love Just Love

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CARRI COOK | HABITAT Beautiful sunlight. Trees with beehives way up in the branches. Leaves falling gradually. Log cabins sitting on seven acres of grown land. Buck antlers on all four sides of the house. Chipmunks, squirrels, deer – All living in the same habitat. Lovely

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REGINALD BOCLAIR | WHAT MAKES YOU FEEL SAFE? What would make me feel safe is seeing love and community being disseminated throughout society. Love and community are the antidotes to the violence and harm of a capitalistic world. Love works no ill toward its neighbor. The practice of love breeds community, engendering the possibility of social and cultural change. Love and community makes me feel safe.

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SHANEVA MCREYNOLDS | CAPABLE OF CHANGE November 26, 2008, the day before Thanksgiving, my husband was murdered. Just two months prior we celebrated the birth of our baby girl who was born on our first wedding anniversary. Sixteen years have passed, and I mark the time through our daughter. She is set to turn 16 this year, and my late husband, her father, has been gone for the same duration. The mystery surrounding his murder remains unsolved. His name was Ricky Davis. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t wish that he could see our baby girl. I wish our daughter could know her father’s love and laughter, and that she would’ve had the opportunity to grow up with his protection…. In 2013, a childhood friend reached out to me via social media. Her brother Jeff happened to be my childhood sweetheart, my very first boyfriend, and according to my 14-year-old self, the love of my life….A few days later, I received an unexpected call from a federal prison, and to my astonishment, it was him….he was convicted of conspiracy to distribute crack cocaine and sentenced to 235 months – a 20 year sentence for a non-violent drug offense when he was 28 years old. Eight months later, on July 31st, 2014, we exchanged vows at Rochester Federal Medical Center, despite the fact that he still had 10 years of his sentence looming ahead. Two forms of legislation with retroactivity provisions allowed my husband the opportunity for useful citizenship. Because of the drugs minus two amendments, and the Fair Sentencing Act, after 11 years & 7 months, my husband’s sentence was reduced. Our country throws away far too many people…. Article one section 11 of the Illinois Constitution reads: “All penalties shall be determined both according to the seriousness of the offense and with the objective of restoring the offender to useful citizenship.” We must commit to fair, rational, and humane sentencing practices which allow incarcerated people to prepare to re-join their families and communities. If a 29-year-old widow can alter her perspective and comprehension, our legal system should also be capable of change. People should not be solely defined by their mistakes. While people's choices may cause pain, as a victim of such pain, I opt to contribute to positive change rather than to perpetuate the cycle.

SARAH BRANNON | MY PEOPLE My people are my daughter, sister and aunt, who answer the phone every single time they can, without complaint. My people are my sisters here with me fighting each day. All of us want nothing more than to be a day closer to home. My people are all who fight to breathe and take on another day. People who fear not leaving this place alive. People with whom I attend school in hopes of a better, more productive future. People of all races, nationalities, backgrounds who are simply equal. Not holding themselves above or below the one sitting, standing, or lying next to them. The day I arrived at House 11 I was so scared and overwhelmed. This is my only time in prison and I was already 40 years old. By way of others I made my way to my room where I met my roommates, two of whom were longtimers. I came in with only these terrible shoes to wear. One of my roommates said, “Oh, we ain’t having that.” She took me back outside the door and gave me the shoes I have on today over a year later. She taught me how to give without question or expectation. Even here. Since then I’ve given many things, including shoes. I’ve always had enough, somehow. I really believe that this one act of kindness truly shaped who I am while here and possibly the rest of my life. I’ve been given most everything I have, and in return, I keep giving.

STEPHANIE BONDS | LOVE, UNCONDITIONALLY ​​I live in a world of loneliness. Dreams have been shattered, hearts have been broken, and very few have been able to crawl out of the hole they have sunken into. Loving myself unconditionally was an extreme task to tackle, allowing myself to grow inside the love Allah has for me and pushing past my limitations to love me for me. My mask concealed the hurt and pain from myself. I am proud I decided to take my mask off. I am proud of the woman I have become. I am a wonderful mother, now grandmother. I am working towards receiving my Bachelor’s degree in Liberal Arts and I strive to become a better person everyday. I am scared of not reaching my full potential in life because I am serving a de facto life sentence. I am afraid of not being able to help raise my grandchildren in a physical sense. I am also afraid that the one woman who has truly loved me unconditionally from birth leaving this world before I make it home, my granny.

MICHAEL SULLIVAN | THE COMFORT AND SAFETY OF MY OWN HOME “Put your hands on the wall!” the two oversized officers clamored. They looked like two NFL linebackers moonlighting as police officers. Startled by their emboldened invasion, me and my friends complied. I was babysitting my three-year-old nephew in the comfort and safety of my own home; the next thing I knew, my hands were spread across the white plastered wall that aligned the west part of my front living room. My forehead was in an intimate relationship with the wall, pressed firmly on the immovable structure. My feet were also spread, approximately twenty inches apart. Time had frozen, and I became a standing paraplegic, paralyzed from the waist down, by the overbearing authority of the strange presence that hovered over my body. I was 19 years old when this intergenerational event occurred. I felt immersed in the way my ancestors were treated. Like slavery, mass incarceration echoes across generations impacting four generations at a time.

DANIEL PERKINS | MAMA SAID THERE’D BE DAYS LIKE THIS As life ticks away in this run down jail cell—rusty bars and bunks, a door that barely functions, a mattress I wouldn’t give to a dog, years and layers of paint peeling in various locations, you get the picture—I spend a lot of time thinking about my family. As I pull back the layers of our lives, our choices, our experience, I’ve come to be so proud of my entire family, particularly my mother. We’ve come so far. We both know that life is fragile and fleeting. We have a shared loneliness and we’re able to lean on and depend on each other. I’m so grateful for the forgiveness she has afforded me. Her love for me is clear — unwavering availability, every call answered, greeting cards, books, photos, money, and she loves to come here and feed and love on me. She was just here not long ago to heat me up a Buona Italian Beef with spicy giardiniera sauce, spicy cheetos, a code red Mountain Dew, and a M&M chocolate chip ice cream sandwich—the meal of champions. I’m so grateful to have her and it’d be a privilege to listen to her joys and grievances for another 100 years. I’m proud to be your son. Love Ya Ma.

DARNELL LANE | STUDY Study is the purposeful action of looking intently at or listening to something or someone for a deeper understanding. Study is the discipline employed when seeking to discover lesser known facts, people, or objects.

JUAN LUNA | MY PEOPLE My people: this is my family, friends, and my community. They are the ones I see everyday when I come home from work. When I’m with my family, we are always talking with each other asking questions like, “How was your day at work, how did it go for you at school, are you feeling well, and is someone giving you a hard time?” There is one thing that my dad and mom made sure of, and that was for me and my siblings to be at the dinner table at 5:00 pm. When someone in my family does host a party for a wedding, a quinceñera, or a graduation, family, friends, and the community get together. At this party, there will be plenty to eat and drink. Some of the food will be carne asada, baby ribs, Spanish rice, some kind of salad, and lots of beer, tequila, sodas. There will even be some live music and mariachi. Everyone will be talking, eating, drinking, and dancing. My people will also be there for each other for support and to help out anyway they can. For example, they will collect food for the ones in need, for whoever does not have transportation, they will also show up for your court dates, and when you are sick. They are also educators. That’s who my family, friends, and my community are!

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BREANNA MALDONADO | SUN-SHINING Freedom is lying in a comfortable bed, wrapped up in the covers and a dozen pillows, waking up to the smell of cooked breakfast with a hint of smokiness from the peppers and spices. Sun-shining in the windows as Mexican music plays out loud with no cares for tomorrow.

RODNEY LOVE | LIVE LONG A nation without purpose will not live long Without something to live for we will not live long With differences dividing us we will not live long Do I stand around while people say I won’t live long? And if true that none will live long Taking my destiny in my own hands, I will live long And to those who said I won’t live long The creator has spoken that I will live long

ERIC WATKINS | DIAMONDS IN THE ROUGH While in prison, higher education has been a valuable vehicle for bettering myself, maturing self-values and selfless service for society, while regaining invaluable control over my life's story. Each educational institution I have attended during incarceration represents investments made in liberation over limitations - and not only for myself, but toward the advancement of community. Throughout my journey I’ve consistently seen prayer as human beings' highest form of education and communication. It is the vehicle that moves our spirits and our souls past the dusty clay of our material world to connect with God. It acknowledges that life and lives have purpose, and aren’t aimless products of non-intelligent, haphazard events. We are wonderfully made, we are wonderfully created by an awesome Creator. Diamonds in the rough.

LONNIE SMITH | AM I A PERSON? Captive in this living hell my soul continues to be tortured for my worst day. I wake, I pray, and see structured movements of bodies that look like mine. Hope is my only ally, but it is fleeting with each day, month, and year of my incarceration. For over three decades I've seen relationships begin and prosper, then fall into ruin like an empire. Time unglues the strongest bonds coupled with death. Yet, I wake, I pray, and see structured movements of bodies that look like mine. Remorseful, repentant, and rehabilitated, but nobody understands me because of my worst day: Society doesn't see me no matter what I achieve. Therefore, I wonder: Am I a person?

ANTONIO “TK” KENDRICK | ENOUGH IS ENOUGH Look around you Look at all of the Black faces By what you see, it could be surmised That crime is not committed by people of other races… right? You see… This is all by design This is the legacy of a historical, invisible, white hand The hand of a people who fought savage-like for their own freedoms While keeping people who look like me in chains Because they didn’t consider me a human I am the descendant of a people Who this country’s forefathers wanted to keep under social control So, they legislated their fear of us…slave codes And enforced them through this country’s first police force…slave patrols…. I’m looking for some white sisters and brothers Who will stand with me in solidarity And help me usher the message of racial equality into all white spaces And help me articulate that message with clarity I’m looking for some white sisters and brothers Who are sick and tired of all the injustice And who really want to be just Those who can look at over 400 years of Black oppression and white supremacy And say to themselves and to other people who look just like them What? Enough is enough.

DECEDRICK WALKER | TRUST ISSUES ….I’m pioneering where they say there was a waste where talks of equality are talks of equality for me obviously I’m just competing to live a bit disillusioned about what decency is I think you should take notice of what I recently did with every press that I push, I get increasingly big and this is not me thinking that I corner the truth just a remorse filled cat with access to a booth yo in time I do hope that I’m nowhere around where a dagger and cloak at or all the blow back just so happen I could see how the road is mapping at the end a bunch of moms crying over caskets still adapting refuse to lose my street accent this is my olive branch, not a street tactic [Hook] Forgive me for my paranoia I got trust issues They say time heal all wounds I say they stuck with you It’ll fuck with you keep ya head spinning In the midst of the dead or the edge of living

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ROBERT CURRY | HOPELESS Hope is fragile; hope is the one internal power source I’m scared to lose. Hope is mine; then it isn’t; it belongs to those I love, depend on, confide in, trust, look to… Hope depends on me and others… The state of hopelessness is destitution. It’s perpetual darkness. Time ceases to matter and my direction is lost. Imagine approaching midnight where the hour, minute and second never change from that point in time. I realize this collapse leaves me paralyzed and defenseless, purposeless, without sight, “stagnant.” I’m scared of being stuck in my darkest hour, scared to lose hope because I ultimately lose the simplest forms of my humanity. Love, imagination, compassion, fundamental thought, and knowledge of myself can fracture, leaving me broken into a million pieces. I am scared to lose the spirit of hope.

BENNY RIOS DONJUAN | PICTURES AS OBJECTS Pictures are taken to capture precious memories. They become objects that are treasured because the images of the people tell us stories; we’re reminded of better times, or even what could have been….My experience with pictures was different. For most of my life, since I was 7 years old or so, my family pictures were taken in a prison setting. Ever since my oldest brother was incarcerated and wrongfully convicted in 1984, we have only been able to take pictures in a prison visiting room. My brother was only 18-years-old when he was incarcerated and I was only 6 years old. Fast forward to 2000, my oldest brother was finally released from prison. It was a joyous occasion, but bittersweet, because I was facing my own murder case at the time. My brother and I were only able to share a year and a half of freedom as adults. Then I was convicted for my case and sent to prison to serve a 45-year sentence. A major difference between our incarceration experiences is that we were not allowed to take pictures during the first 17 years of my incarceration. The Illinois Department of Corrections (IDOC) had discontinued its picture program for around two decades or so. For years, many of us in IDOC custody advocated for access to taking pictures with our loved ones to no avail. Finally, they instituted another picture program — one that is closely scrutinized by internal affairs — but it’s better than nothing. I was elated to be able to take pictures with my loved ones again. I was also saddened by the realization that I have taken more pictures with my brother as incarcerated men rather than free men…. Unfortunately, I’ll never be able to take another picture with my brother Meme ever again. He passed away on December 8, 2023 — a piece of me died that day too. Still though, I remain hopeful that one day soon, my loved ones and I will capture all of our precious memories as free people — no more restrictions!

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LAKESHIA MURPH | LOVE CASTS DOWN ALL FEARS I agree fully with James Baldwin that “Love takes off the mask we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within…not in an infantile American sense of being made happy but in the tough and universal sense of quest.” Love casts down all fears. Me loving you isn’t a personal regard, it’s a state of being. A way of existing. The highest form of knowing is love, the highest form of love is reality because reality is LOVE.

RAÚL DORADO | WHO ARE YOUR PEOPLE? The politically disenfranchised. The people who wake up early to make it to work on time. Essential workers who provide all the goods and services that keep this country going, yet whose names are purged from voter rolls and added to gang databases. Parents who fear being deported and separated from their children. People who were displaced from their native countries by violence from American-manufactured firearms, or by severe drought or flooding as a result of global warming. Children crammed like sardines in between the concrete slabs of detention facilities. Earth-toned people shouting in Spanish. Both indigenous and illegal. Trespassing on a Taco Bell parking lot.

MONICA COSBY | ON LEAVING PRISON ….I’ve lost two communities. The first is the one I grew up in, sitting on the lake, walking along “the rocks” just off Montrose Beach, being a student of the long-gone Uptown People’s Learning Center, working with the Heart of Uptown Coalition and the Chicago Area Black Lung Association as a teenager, going to the movies with my friends at the Uptown Theater and the Riviera, and buying my favorite music at Topper’s, a record store in the midst of what used to be a bustling shopping district. There was Survival Day, when the whole of Uptown would gather on the mall to celebrate another year of survival of our community. The other community I’ve lost is the one I was a part of in prison. I was part of that community for so long — almost as long as I lived in Uptown. It was a community composed of deep, abiding, loving, affectionate, mutually beneficial, supportive friendships and kinships. Our solidarity was borne of shared sorrows, grief, guilt, shame about our pasts, regrets for our failings. Together, we suffered the indignities of being in prison. Out here, I am missing my prison family as much as I missed my family while inside….

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JOHNNY TAYLOR | WHO DO YOU CLAIM? WHO CLAIMS YOU? First and foremost, I claim family, and my family beyond family. Being taken away from the people I love is hurtful and painful. Yet, I endure the hurt and pain, and face the things that are. Being taken away from my family I gained another family – people who care about my well- being; people who spend their time with me on an everyday basis. The people who are willing to take time away from their own personal lives and give me their all. I claim the Prison + Neighborhood Arts/Education Project. They are my family now. They are people pushing me toward greatness.

ANGIE VARRIALE | HIS DAUGHTER I grew up where most of the kids took care of themselves, minors were the parents, and the parents were the children. I’m known for being cagey, spunky, daring, humorous, and sometimes psychotic. I want to be known for my kindness, compassion, and for overcoming even the toughest obstacle. I am proud of my children, hands down. I claim them and love them no matter what they do or don’t do. I am proud to be their mother, and there is nothing in this whole universe that will change that pride. I claim Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior, and he claims me as his daughter. I am accountable to God and to myself because at the end of the day, it is only him and me.

MICHAEL BELL | LIFE LETTER You come to the point in every long term prison sentence that I refer to as "the moment". The moment is the very second “it” hits you. “It” is a four way collision between you, your future, your past, and the way you've lived your life. When that happens, the decisions you make will determine the rest of your life. That's only if you survive the initial render. “It” is a profound revelation. It's a soul crushing knowledge, a sudden understanding, and a complete comprehension of who you are, what you are, and what others see when they look at you. And that includes...your very own mother. For the first time in life, you have a high definition image of...you. You understand the havoc, chaos and utter destruction you vested upon your own family, friends, community and those you've harmed. You realize your violation of the struggles and battles fought by those who have sacrificed sometimes their very own lives for the freedoms you enjoy today. You understand your part in the perpetuation of the negative narratives and stereotypes of males who look like you. You feel the full weight of the shame, sorrow, and crippling remorse, suddenly come crashing down upon your shoulders, and you will be forced…to your knees. I've been exactly where you are, alone, in a cell, going through hell. Just you and a life’s worth of pain in a battle of one trying to kill the other. But what you don't know…is that God is there also. She's in the room watching, listening and waiting for us to simply act. But at this point, all we can think about is being an embarrassment and burden to our loved ones. We've cursed God because he wouldn't simply let us die. And we fought the devil as he's tried to convince us to do it ourselves. Then finally, at rock bottom, lying flat on our faces, we asked, “God, what do you want us to do?” Without hesitation he responded, “Surrender and I'll take care of the rest.” We were terrified, because he spoke in our dead father's voice. Then he spoke again. And this time we heard our granny, “Boy, get your ass up, clean this room, be a man and think about your mothers and brothers. Not to mention, you have a debt to pay, and you're going to pay it.” This was no dream. We heard her. We felt it. And for the first time in decades, we've bent our knees, and we pray.

JEREL MATTHEWS | INTERRUPTING WITH “THE EROTIC” Are you a perpetrator or a victim? Most people are both within the existing structures of subordination. So many lives are diminished by the poison of the patriarchy. Is a woman being connected to another woman or a non-binary person a crime. What is intimate is always scrutinized. Society penalizes acts, but not images that promote acts of violence that cause harm. While your fears form silence, you become complicit in violence.

ERIKA RAY | UNSTEADY WORLD Everyday, I choose to go on living in an unsteady world that makes death seem easy there are no passions here and dreams are a nostalgic — imaginative indulgences for those who cannot pass go or collect their things and spring forward from days that bleed and blend into each other no sunrises or pink moons to capture the breath of dreaming mothers but we go on living — hoping for a steady world that will make us fear death