Beyond Stereotypes to Acceptance

From my earliest of memories I have known that I have had a problem with gaining acceptance. My life has been a model of constant change and false senses of stability. I was born in Salem, OR in 1989 to a young couple. Shortly thereafter I was uprooted and relocated to one of the largest cities in the world, Mexico City, Mexico. My father was born and raised there. My mother however was raised in Oregon. My parents were from two separate walks of life but decided to start a life together.

I am half Hispanic, part Native American, and part German yet I do not have a dark complexion. Most people at first glance can’t tell that I am a minority because of my skin color. I remember to this day the first time I realized my peers had stereotyped me. I was around five years old and a group of boys that I spent time around had asked me to take them to the store to go shopping. I said that I couldn’t and that I was just as broke as they were. One of the boys said to me “why not? You an American and you people always have money.”

I was then cast aside and ostracized for pretending to not have money. The truth was I was just as poor as they were and I was just as hungry every night when I went to bed. I was hurt by what was said and how they treated but I kept on going. When I moved back to the United States I felt the hurt once more. I had only learned Spanish as my first language. So I was ridiculed once more for not fitting in. I had now been labeled as an outsider and I hated the fact I didn’t fit in. From the ages of 6-18 I tried to fit in and gain acceptance in any way I could. I would do things I knew were wrong and things that were against the law in order to gain respect and acceptance from my peers.

It’s interesting to know now what I was willing to do to gain acceptance from my peers. The final truth came when I was involved in a robbery gone terribly wrong. There was a person whose life was taken in the process. I was an accomplice to a crime due to my inability to say no. It was easier to go along than it was to say no. I was more conscious of my potential acceptance than my own choice. I made choices to commit a crime instead of stopping it at all.

I was then sentenced to 25 years to life for my involvement. I took responsibility for the tragedy I had done. I then experienced a long couple of years where I was still searching for acceptance but now in a different setting, prison. I have realized now I was raised around stereotypes. People looked down on me for who I was but they never really saw me for me. I couldn’t change their beliefs or judgments about me or how I looked. They only judged me on face value.

I never knew why societies in the world had created labels, categories and prejudices for even the smallest reasons. I then came to make a choice to stop searching and enjoy the person I am. I focused on being accountable to myself and my family. I focused on gaining an education to break the mold. I am dedicated to success.

I encourage people not to judge on stereotypes alone. Gain knowledge before resentment towards another human being. I’ve spent most of my life trying to fit in, now I am living to not fit in. I am outside the box of others’ perception. I am striving to help eliminate stereotypes and start working towards race, gender and class equality.

Nestor

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The Power of Words and Choices

So when I came to prison, I found out very fast that there was a word that was the worst of all words by our standards. That word was “Punk” and if it was said, you could fully expect a fight to breakout immediately thereafter. You lost any respect you might have had if someone called you this word and you had better expect to fight if you were to call someone else this word. The staff even understood that this was not something to be taken lightly and mostly paid the respect due to it by not themselves using such an extreme word. (Extreme by our standards) You have to understand that this is a word you don’t just say…you spit this word from you mouth as it is truly distasteful.

Now…that was a number of years ago and while this word still holds some weight in prison, the incoming youth have had a huge impact on how much of an effect it has when spoken. I often hear the younger men incarcerated here, in their late teens and early 20’s using the word “punk” to each other, with one another and even in reference to others without any action being taken. You still don’t hear that come out of the older generation unless they mean business and for those of us that are still relatively young, (I’m 30-years old) but have been inside for a decade plus, (I started serving time on a Life sentence at the age of 14) it isn’t something that we are prepared to say unless we are pushed to the limits.

On the one hand, I understand placing value on words and how “real” the effects of hearing and saying a word can and does have. On the other hand I have grown to question some of the value we place on words as they can be seen as just that…merely words! To jeopardize so much over something someone says can seem really ill thought out. I think that it’s important to realize that WE empower words by our reactions.

During my first year of incarceration, (mind you I was 14-years-old at this time) there was a man who would come in every week or two and talk to those of us who were interested in listening. He would tell us stories, ask us questions that made us think and really just spend time with us. He told a story one time that has stuck with me throughout these last 16+ years of incarceration. It was a story about a man who was in a war and was captured by the enemy side. This man was tortured and stripped of everything that he had. Lastly his captors removed from his finger his wedding band, the last remaining article on his person. They scoffed at him and yelled: “Ye have nothing left, we have taken everything from you!” The man looked at his captures and quietly said that they were wrong, that there was one thing that they could never take from him. His ability to react as he chooses, the power of choice, something that we all too often forget we have.

Everyday we make a million different choices, to do the right thing, to do the wrong thing, choices that lead to failures and choices that lead to successes. We have the power to choose! No matter our circumstances, whether in prison, living with our parents, foster care providers, at school, with our friends, no matter what we have that choice, if nothing else, of how we react to our environment and what others choose to do to us.

I am not for one moment suggesting that you should lay down and take whatever life has to offer. I’m suggesting that you think before you react and choose to act in a way that is positive and ultimately leads to success rather than choosing to act in a way that you know is going to lead to failure.

Your choice!

Thanks,
Trevor

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Acceptance

I remember how badly I wanted attention from my dad. He is an alcoholic and in all of my childhood memories I always see him with a can of beer. He was larger than life, a hulk of a man, he was a butcher by trade and I wanted to be just like him. Sadly, he was never that interested in my life; he drank, passed out and went to work. At the age of 12 I began to rebel against him and I found myself the focus of his anger. You see my mom had me when she was only 16 I wasn’t planned and she reminded me of that often. I finally got the courage to confront their behavior towards me and my little brother only to come home the next day and find 4 Orange boxes full of my clothes and all I owned. I was on my way to my grandparents that night. I’m 38 years old and haven’t seen my father in over 22 years! My mother doesn’t see me in here and still battles with addiction. All my life I wanted to be accepted and loved by my mom and dad. Seeking that attention from my friends caused me to make terrible choices. I realize now that I didn’t need their love, my grandparents loved me, my aunt and uncles loved me, and my teachers loved me. I didn’t trust the adults in my life. Think about the adults in your life and spend time with the ones who truly love you.

Kyle

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What Got Me into Trouble…

When I was young the thing that always got me into trouble was following the crowd, trying to fit in even when I knew what I was doing was wrong. I wanted respect and to be accepted by my peers, and the search for that acceptance and respect lead me down a long path of poor decisions that I now regret. If my friend stole something from a store, I’d steal something too. If my friend lied to his mom to stay out a little bit later, I’d lie to mine as well. The problem with being a follower, someone who goes with whatever the crowd is doing, is that 10-15 years down the road those poor choices have piled high and you end up looking in the mirror wondering how things might have been had you just chosen a little more wisely.

I encourage everyone out there, no matter your age or situation, to be you and don’t worry about what the crowd is doing. Your path is the one that matters. Your path is the one in which you should protect at all times and take pride in. If you do that, and if you make an effort to do things the right way, good things will happen.

James

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