- I was 17 years old when I went to prison,
and they sentenced me to natural life.
And then God showed me a sign by letting me out.
Like I was denied five times reconsideration
for my sentence,
and then when I started like praying,
my judge had a change of heart, she let me out.
And so like that's the deal, I gotta do this work.
I made a promise, I said if you show me a sign
like that you up there,
that I'll commit my life to helping my people,
and like you know yeah, it's a lot of challenges
in the city, but like I really really love my people.
(lighthearted music)
I grew up in Washington, DC and around the time
when I was like 16 or 17, one night people came after me
and I ended up taking a person's life,
and I was sentenced to natural life in prison.
So I essentially grew up in prison in Jessup, Maryland.
And so while in prison, I fell into a deep depression,
and I sat down in my cell and started thinking about
how I wasted my life,
and I knew that I always had potential.
And so I wrote up what I called my master plan
which is like a bucket list of things
that I wanted to do.
I wanted to educate myself, I wanted to embrace therapy.
I knew if I was gonna really achieve this plan,
I needed to have the necessary skillsets.
So reading every book that I could find
that would help me like be better,
and like communicate better in business,
better at understanding the world.
So when I was away in prison,
I earned a degree in sociology.
I was 17 years old when I went to prison,
and when I came home I was 32 years old.
First day I got out,
got some home-cooked lasagna,
a steak, and some shrimp.
I you know, heard about like Google and like YouTube,
and so I just stayed up all night just like Googling stuff.
I was like I can't believe I could just Google anything,
and like I could learn about whatever.
And so, I probably like
I don't know, stayed up 'til like six
in the morning doing that.
So I chose to come to Baltimore because like
I could find a nice place that I could afford,
and I also wanted to do work in the community.
I wanted to workforce development where I'd done
some gang mediation, I've done community organizing,
and it was just work that I wanted to do,
and it was tons of opportunities, tons of challenges here,
and I felt like I could make a difference with engagement.
So working as a workforce development director,
there was so many people that were falling out
the workforce pipeline that couldn't get work
because maybe they had a criminal conviction 20 years ago.
Out of frustration, I started my own companies
and I would employ these people,
and give them the opportunity that society
didn't want to give them.
(melancholy orchestral music)
As a contractor, I was doing a lot of work
with galleries and artists, but I found art
to be powerful and therapeutic at the same time.
And so I started making art, I started painting,
it's like the ultimate therapy, I just feel relaxed.
(melancholy orchestral music)
It's like my happy place.
I don't think I'm ever gonna stop painting.
Sometimes I stay up all night and just paint.
Just thinking about like what I want to paint and say.
(melancholy orchestral music)
I always think about you know, social justice issues,
criminal justice system, like racism,
like stuff that you know, that is difficult for some
people to sit down and really like talk seriously about.
I can put it all into a painting.
(melancholy orchestral music)
Well what the strange thing about Baltimore is
you know, it's so like (mumbles) and like segregated.
Like so the folks back there a few blocks back,
they not gon' walk out here or come out here,
and these folks around here,
they're not gon' walk down there.
People just stay in their space.
(melancholy orchestral music)
I think Maryland has influenced my identity
and who I am mainly because of my experience in prison,
and to be honest, like I love this state,
but we have cruel policies towards
our criminal justice system.
I can't stand driving past the jail,
but it's also like a reminder to motivate myself
about like why I gotta keep advocating
like to get these jails like shut down,
and get our people home.
(melancholy orchestral music)
But I see opportunity.
(melancholy orchestral music)