Transcriber: Delia Cohen Reviewer: Helena Bedalli
Up next we have a good friend of mine.
He's been through a lot. He's done a lot of soul searching.
He's worked toward finding his own healing,
and uses his story to help us in here find our own.
Ladies and gentlemen, my good friend, Mr. Sam Johnson.
(Applause)
My story is about my daughter, my hero.
I was born and raised in Charleston, South Carolina.
It wasn't easy growing up in the South.
Being called a "nigger,"
seeing my dad hurt my mom,
and me being beat with an extension cord.
I began to numb myself with hate and anger.
I remember the worst beating I ever had
was for not defending my little brother in school.
I was laying down in my room.
My dad rushed in on me, grabbed me,
and started beating me all over my body with an extension cord.
He was yelling, "Don't you ever let anyone hurt your brother or your family."
He just kept beating on me and beating on me.
I told Dad, "I said I'm sorry. It won't ever happen again."
But he wouldn't stop. He just kept whipping me with the extension cord.
Then I told my dad, I said, "Just go ahead and kill me."
That's when my mom ran in,
grabbed the extension cord, and she would not let go.
I told myself that I would never be beat like that again.
I had welts all over my body:
some in the shapes of S; some in O-s. There were frowns and there were smiles.
I started seeking out help, getting angry, became bitter.
Hated the world; hated everybody.
I loved my family, but there was a conflict
because my dad was the monster and my enemy.
I remember coming home from work one day when I was 18 years old,
and my dad had a knife at my mother's throat.
There was so much blood coming from her hands,
as she held the blade to keep it from cutting her throat.
I looked at my father and I said,
"You're always fighting my mom. Come and fight me."
I remember him yelling at my mom,
and told her to let go of the knife because he was going to kill me.
I looked my mom in the face, I said, "Let go of the knife, Mom."
She said, "Boy if I let go of the knife, your dad is going to kill me."
I knew I had his attention because he had so much rage,
and he was determined to get the knife out of my mother's hand.
So, I just looked her in her eyes, and I knew God was with me,
and I said, "Mom, please. Let go of the knife."
She did.
My dad came charging at me with the knife to cut my throat.
I moved out of the way. She had a little case by her.
I grabbed the case and hit him in the head.
Over the years I did a lot of harm to people.
And I caused a lot of harm.
I told my daughter when she became six years old, I would tell her.
She came to visit one day, on the weekend of her birthday,
and she said, "Dad, I'm six."
I said, "I know you're six."
She said, "No Dad, I'm six."
I said "I know you're six. I sent you a card, and I sent you money."
She said, "No Dad. You're supposed to tell me why you were in prison."
It felt like my heart leaped out my chest as I looked at her and her mom.
So, I sat down, and I told my daughter exactly why I was in prison.
My six-year-old daughter grabbed me, hugged me,
and she told me how much she loved me.
It felt like something popped inside.
It felt like my heart just opened up, and for the very first time in my life,
I was able to see the harm I had caused my family and my daughter.
I was selfish in thinking that because they were on the outside, they were okay,
and that I was the one hurting because I was in prison.
From that moment, I told my wife that I needed to get out of prison.
That's when I started seeking out the programs here in San Quentin.
I started getting in programs like VOEG, Victim Offender Education Group.
I got in Alliance for Change, a social justice course.
I got into Anger Management that teaches me how to identify my triggers.
And I got in Byron Katie's "Accepting What Is" because I had
a struggle on realizing where I was supposed to be at.
I was here. I was fighting that process.
My lifestyle took me down a road that led me into prison.
It was hard. I started working on a lot of things.
Got into the MAC, Men's Advisory Council, that taught me how to talk with people;
meet with the warden and his administration.
With my family, love, and unconditional support, I grew.
I became the man who stands here before you, a changed man.
A man with love and compassion.
My visits became a little bit brighter.
And I would like to share something with you in closing.
A couple of weeks right after my transformation, my daughter came up.
Four years old, De’rihya.
I used to walk around, De’rihya on my shoulder, in the visiting room.
Walking around.
This is one of the happiest moments of my life
that really let me know my family really loved me.
Walking around the visiting room,
and I felt something wet on the top of my head.
I said, "What you doing?"
She said, "Nothing."
(Laughter)
I kept walking around the visiting room, walking around.
I felt it again.
And I realized that my daughter was licking my head.
(Laughter)
I told her, "You'd better stop. That's nasty."
(Laughter)
Wrong words.
She licked me one more time, and she bit me.
(Laughter)
I yelled and I said "Ouch!"
And she would just giggle. She was just laughing.
And I noticed the entire visiting room was laughing also.
They were watching my daughter the whole time,
doing what she was doing,
and I said, "Why did you bite me?"
She said, "Dad. Your head looks likes a Milk Dud."
(Laughter)
And that's why she bit me.
(Laughter)
The love of my family and hope and prayers
has transformed me into the person who stands here before you.
And with that I want to thank you very much.
Namaste and God be with all of you.
(Applause)