Speaker 1: Dear Governor is a production of I Heart Media and
Speaker 1: three Months Media. Dear Governor Newsom, Dear Mr Governor Newsom.
Speaker 1: This is an open letter to Governor Gavin Newsom. Dear
Speaker 1: Governor news Dear Governor Newsom, as you know. In late
Speaker 1: May one, twenty one incarcerated men from a COVID hotspot,
Speaker 1: the California Institute for Men and Chino, were transferred to
Speaker 1: San Quentin. Since then, over half of the men at
Speaker 1: San Quentin have become infected. To add insult to injury.
Speaker 1: As of the time of this recording, all communications have
Speaker 1: been severed in or out of the prison. Mothers, spouses, children,
Speaker 1: friends have no idea how their loved ones are faring,
Speaker 1: whether alive, on respirator or dead. As of yesterday, thirteen
Speaker 1: of the men have died, eight on death row. The
Speaker 1: last we heard from our friend Jarvis Masters, he had
Speaker 1: been ravaged by COVID but was believed to be on
Speaker 1: the end, but we can't know for sure. Considering all
Speaker 1: phone privileges have been revoked. This is cruel and inhumane
Speaker 1: punishment for all involved. It was also in late May
Speaker 1: that Jarvis published a prescient op ed in the Guardian
Speaker 1: newspaper advocating for why, now more than ever, monitored cell
Speaker 1: phone usage should be permitted in prisons. We hope you
Speaker 1: will hear his message and considered as a possible solution
Speaker 1: to the dire circumstances we are witnessing now. To help
Speaker 1: share Jarvis's vital message, we have enlisted actor and advocate
Speaker 1: Dion Graham to read portions of Jarvis's appeal in his
Speaker 1: May twenty second op ed, Letting prisoners use cell phones
Speaker 1: make sense now more than ever. Not long before the
Speaker 1: COVID nineteen outbreak was declared a worldwide pandemic, there was
Speaker 1: a shakedown here on death Row at San Quentin State Prison.
Speaker 1: It was a massive search, and I wasn't surprised to
Speaker 1: learn officials confiscated at least sixties cell phones. I know
Speaker 1: what it feels like to be caught with a contraband phone.
Speaker 1: It happened two years ago, and as punishment I was
Speaker 1: sent to the Adjustment Center solitary confinement for two months.
Speaker 1: I was set the solitary for the crime of wanting connection.
Speaker 1: With almost forty years as a prisoner, I'm old enough
Speaker 1: to remember a time when a shakedown wouldn't have resulted
Speaker 1: in the confiscation of sixty phones. It would have been
Speaker 1: sixty shanks and other deadly weapons. This demonstrates what most
Speaker 1: prisoners really want now, to communicate with their family and friends,
Speaker 1: those precious parts of our lives not caged up in here.
Speaker 1: This basic need is all the more pronounced in the
Speaker 1: shadow of the coronavirus. A friend of mine told me
Speaker 1: that he won't be able to make it if the
Speaker 1: pandemic lasts for another few weeks. He's managed to survive
Speaker 1: for fifteen years as a condemned man, but the fact
Speaker 1: that the outside world is in such a state of
Speaker 1: pandemonium as a bridge too far. He's not concerned about
Speaker 1: catching the virus himself, but he's scared to death about
Speaker 1: the safety of his friends and family. The last time
Speaker 1: Jervis's voice was recorded prior of the phone prohibition was
Speaker 1: July twelve. Here he is talking about COVID and COVID
Speaker 1: related deaths with the local group coordinator for Amnesty International
Speaker 1: in San Francisco, Gavrilla. Wells, have you talked in compared
Speaker 1: notes to any guard who have also had COVID? Have
Speaker 1: you commiserated about the experience? I did, Yeah, it's the
Speaker 1: same thing. One of the guards who was on the
Speaker 1: ventilator are he was getting fed out at two. It
Speaker 1: was his first day back today. It was his first
Speaker 1: day back today, and I talked to him and he
Speaker 1: said it was He said it was rough. He said
Speaker 1: he's glad he made it through it, and he's glad
Speaker 1: he didn't affect his family. We all got the same string,
Speaker 1: you know. I believe we all got the same string.
Speaker 1: So we're all done to share the same stories. You know,
Speaker 1: our chess was hurting hard to brief eggs and the
Speaker 1: body had a loss of case, sometimes delirious lower back pains.
Speaker 1: We all have the same thing. Are you feeling now, Jay,
Speaker 1: My bones are cracking. Like I said, it feels like
Speaker 1: I just came out of a football game. Everything hurts,
Speaker 1: everything hurts. But the nurses and the doctors told me
Speaker 1: that that's what's going to happen. You know, if you
Speaker 1: make it through this, you know you're still gonna you
Speaker 1: can be thick, physically thick for a month. I wish
Speaker 1: there was I mean, it's just stupid thing to say.
Speaker 1: I wish there was a way that you could just
Speaker 1: get some sunlight on you. Yeah, you know the sunlight.
Speaker 1: I wish I could get that too. But when you
Speaker 1: say sun like, to me, that's fresh air. Yeah, to me,
Speaker 1: that's fresh air. And I wish I could have some
Speaker 1: of that. Now, know what fresh air means? When you
Speaker 1: want it? We all prove it in the same same stuff.
Speaker 1: It looks like a crime scene. It looks just like
Speaker 1: a crime scene. And to me, that's exactly what it is.
Speaker 1: That's thy seconds. What I've been thinking about morning anything else,
Speaker 1: is that you know the guys they took out on
Speaker 1: my chair. They never they're never took anything out their salves,
Speaker 1: their seals, just the same. One guy's TV still on. Whoa,
Speaker 1: yeah that his TVs are still on. Another guy's coffees
Speaker 1: right there, and the cups sitting right down to bed.
Speaker 1: So cardovits TV is still on or still has coffee
Speaker 1: in there. Yes, oh my god. If he walked by
Speaker 1: his sale, his TV is still on, his TV is
Speaker 1: still on, the pattering of them laying in the bed,
Speaker 1: he's still there. M hm. And it's scary and it's painful,
Speaker 1: and um, that's what gets me every single day. That's
Speaker 1: what haunts me. Actor Dion Graham continues reading Jarvis's May
Speaker 1: twenty second op ed making a case for cell phones
Speaker 1: behind bars. On top of the double scourge of mass
Speaker 1: incarceration and coronavirus disproportionately affecting poor people of color, the
Speaker 1: current crisis magnifies the inhumane regulation that prohibits cellphones in
Speaker 1: correctional facilities. Riker's Island Prison, for instance, has a COVID
Speaker 1: nineteen infection rate seven times that of New York City,
Speaker 1: the center of the outbreak. If cell phones were authorized there,
Speaker 1: family members could keep itally on the now more than
Speaker 1: eight hundred inmates who are being held in isolation or quarantined,
Speaker 1: but instead they're left to agonize whether he or she
Speaker 1: hasn't already been ravaged by the virus throughout the prison
Speaker 1: system across the country, cellphones are the lifelines that keep
Speaker 1: prisoners connected to hope. It's hopeless men and women who
Speaker 1: are the ones who become violent and self destructive. For
Speaker 1: that reason, I believe cell phones make prisoners safer, connect
Speaker 1: and for any human being essential to life and ample
Speaker 1: research proves that inmates who remain connected to their families
Speaker 1: and friends are far more likely to re into society
Speaker 1: successfully and not reoffend Not only does cell phone access
Speaker 1: enhance the lives of prisoners, but consider the approximately three
Speaker 1: million American children who have a parent in prison today.
Speaker 1: According to the Fragile Families and Child Well Being Study,
Speaker 1: kids with an incarcerated parent are three times more likely
Speaker 1: to suffer from behavioral problems and depression and kids without one.
Speaker 1: Imagine the positive impact it could have on the lives
Speaker 1: of these children if they could call their mother or
Speaker 1: father and share what life was like in this new
Speaker 1: social distancing reality, how sad they are because they missed
Speaker 1: their friends, or how happy they are to see their
Speaker 1: teachers online. The ability to call a parent could be transformative,
Speaker 1: and it could be life changing for prisoners like me too.
Speaker 1: All of us in this god forsaken place would rather
Speaker 1: stay in our own selves to talk with our families
Speaker 1: and anything, and now, more than ever, for people isolated
Speaker 1: from the world, hearing a loved one's voice or a
Speaker 1: grand baby coup for the first time is healing. In addition,
Speaker 1: this is time spent not being violent in the yard.
Speaker 1: It's time spent not stewing in your own rage, frustration,
Speaker 1: and depression. We would have time to be normal, thinking, feeling,
Speaker 1: human beings. We'll post a link to Jervis's article in
Speaker 1: our show notes. But he goes on to make the
Speaker 1: case that not only would cell phone usage save money
Speaker 1: for the families of the incarcerated, but with managed access
Speaker 1: technology that exists now, prisons could track and monitor all
Speaker 1: incoming and outgoing calls and texts. Not only that, but
Speaker 1: the National Institute of Justice takes the position that managed
Speaker 1: access is one more piece of the puzzle to mitigate
Speaker 1: contraband cell phone usage. The secret that the prison system
Speaker 1: doesn't want to acknowledge is how much more serene and
Speaker 1: less disruptive it is when inmates are on their cell phones.
Speaker 1: My favorite memory with my phone was staying up all
Speaker 1: night talking with my brothers and sisters in a group call.
Speaker 1: I hadn't talked to them together like that in more
Speaker 1: than three decades. Considering we were all separated in different
Speaker 1: foster homes as children, we had a lot to remember together.
Speaker 1: We laughed, we cried, whispering to my siblings. I felt
Speaker 1: alive that night. When the world overcomes this nightmare. Who
Speaker 1: knows if we'll ever get that chance again. Last week,
Speaker 1: Shambala Publications released Jervis's latest autobiographical book, Finding Freedom, How
Speaker 1: Death Row broke and opened My heart. Robert L. Allen,
Speaker 1: Senior editor of The Black Scholar, writes of the book
Speaker 1: a deeply moving, life affirming memoir written from the nether
Speaker 1: world of San Quentin. His book is a testament to
Speaker 1: the tenacity of the human spirit. Up next, actor Dion Graham,
Speaker 1: whose voiced the audio book for Finding Freedom, will share
Speaker 1: some of the amazing wisdom that Jarvis has put down
Speaker 1: on the page. I'm Diana Graham, and I'm an actor
Speaker 1: and also narrate things as well. And I came to
Speaker 1: know about Jarvis because Shambala Press reached out to me
Speaker 1: to narrate his great book, Finding Freedom. Jarvis has said
Speaker 1: that you two have become quite good friends during the process. Yeah,
Speaker 1: I appreciate I definitely appreciate Jarvis, and uh, you know,
Speaker 1: I'm I'm wishing him well during these times, particularly what
Speaker 1: the conditions are in there right now and also in
Speaker 1: his fight to gain his freedom. This system is one
Speaker 1: that disproportionately targets and holds black and brown men in particular,
Speaker 1: and you know, that is something that we need to
Speaker 1: continue speaking out about and looking at why that is
Speaker 1: and what that means In terms of of our democracy
Speaker 1: and what we want our democracy actually to be, and
Speaker 1: particularly in light of current events. I think it's important,
Speaker 1: and I think it's important for us to think critically
Speaker 1: about that and also to think compassionately. You know. I
Speaker 1: think we can do better, and I hope that the
Speaker 1: governor will find it in his heart and in his
Speaker 1: uh it makes sense to him that we do do better.
Speaker 1: The audiobook of Finding Freedom, How Death Row Broken Open
Speaker 1: My Heart can be found at shambala dot com or
Speaker 1: audible well linked to both sites in our show notes.
Speaker 1: Now Dion Graham reading from the chapter called Scars. I
Speaker 1: remember the first time I really noticed the scars on
Speaker 1: the bodies of my fellow prisoners. I was outside on
Speaker 1: a maximum custody exercise yard. I stood along the fence,
Speaker 1: praising the air. The yard gave my lungs that my
Speaker 1: prison cell didn't. I wasn't in a rush to pick
Speaker 1: up a basketball or do anything. I just stood in
Speaker 1: my own silence. I looked at the other prisoners playing
Speaker 1: basketball or handball, showering, talking to one another. I saw
Speaker 1: the inmates. I felt closest to John Pete and David
Speaker 1: lifting weights. I noticed the amazing similarity of the whiplike
Speaker 1: scars on their bare skin, shining with sweat from pumping
Speaker 1: iron in the hot sun. A deep sadness came over
Speaker 1: me as I watched these powerful men lift hundreds of
Speaker 1: pounds of weights over their heads. I looked around the
Speaker 1: yard and made the gruesome discovery that everyone else had
Speaker 1: the same deep gashes behind their legs, on their backs,
Speaker 1: all over their ribs, evidence of the violence in our lives.
Speaker 1: Here were America's lost children, surviving in rage and in
Speaker 1: refuge from society. I was certain that many of their
Speaker 1: crimes could be traced to the horrible violence done to
Speaker 1: them as children. The histories of all of us in
Speaker 1: San Quentin were so similar it was as if we
Speaker 1: had the same parents who I was a trusted comrade
Speaker 1: of most of these inmates, and to a few of them,
Speaker 1: I was their only family. Normally, I wouldn't dare intrude
Speaker 1: on their private pain. Even so, I made up my
Speaker 1: mind that I would bring John, Pete and David together
Speaker 1: to talk about their scars. These men had probably never
Speaker 1: spoken openly of their terrible childhood experiences. I doubted that
Speaker 1: any of them would ever have used the word abuse.
Speaker 1: They looked hard into the corps standing round the weight
Speaker 1: lifting bench, proud of their bodies and the images they projected.
Speaker 1: It occurred to me as I approached them that such
Speaker 1: a posture of pride symbolized the battles they had made
Speaker 1: their bones with. This was prison talk for proved their manhood.
Speaker 1: At one time I had been hardened as well and
Speaker 1: had made my own denials. The difficulty I would have
Speaker 1: in speaking with them would be interpreting the prison language
Speaker 1: we all used when talking out our past. Shucking and
Speaker 1: driving was the way we covered up sensitive matters. John
Speaker 1: was a twenty eight year old bulky man serving twenty
Speaker 1: five to life for murder. I had met him when
Speaker 1: we were both in youth homes in southern California. We
Speaker 1: were only eleven years old. Throughout the years, we traveled
Speaker 1: together through the juvenile system until the penitentiary became our
Speaker 1: final stop. When I asked him about the scars on
Speaker 1: his face, he said they came from kicking ass and
Speaker 1: in the process getting my ass kicked, which was rare.
Speaker 1: John explained that his father had loved him enough to
Speaker 1: teach him how to fight when he was only five
Speaker 1: years old. He learned from the beatings he got in
Speaker 1: a sense, he said, he grew up with a loving
Speaker 1: fear of his father. He pointed to a nasty scar
Speaker 1: on his upper shoulder, laughing, He told us that his
Speaker 1: father had hit him with a steel rod when he
Speaker 1: tried to protect his mother from being beaten. Most of
Speaker 1: us had seen this scar, but it never had the
Speaker 1: nerve to ask about it. As we stared at it,
Speaker 1: John seemed ashamed, avoiding our eyes. He mumbled a few
Speaker 1: words before showing us. As many other scars, he can
Speaker 1: remember every detail surrounding the violent events that had produced them.
Speaker 1: I realized that these experiences haunted him. Yet as he
Speaker 1: went on talking, he became increasingly rational. He's been more
Speaker 1: than half his life in one institutional setting or another,
Speaker 1: and as a result, he projected a very cold and fearsome,
Speaker 1: almost boastful smile. He wanted nothing of what he shared
Speaker 1: with us to be interpreted even remotely as child abuse.
Speaker 1: This was especially apparent when he showed us a gash
Speaker 1: on his back that was partially hitten by a dragon tattoo.
Speaker 1: It was a hideous scar, something I would have imagined
Speaker 1: finding on a slave who had been whipped. John motioned
Speaker 1: me closer and said, rub your finger down the dragon's spine.
Speaker 1: I felt what seemed like thick, tight string that moved
Speaker 1: like a worm beneath his skin. Damn, John, what did
Speaker 1: the hell happened you? I asked. There was something in
Speaker 1: the way I questioned him that made John laugh, and
Speaker 1: the others joined in. He explained that when it was nine,
Speaker 1: his father chased him with a cord. John ran under
Speaker 1: a bed, grabbed the springs, and held on as his
Speaker 1: father pulled him by the legs, striking his back repeatedly
Speaker 1: with the cord until he fell unconscious. He woke up
Speaker 1: later with a deep flesh wound. John, smiling coldly, joked
Speaker 1: that that was the last time he ever ran from
Speaker 1: his father. David and Pete recounted similar childhood experiences. Their
Speaker 1: stories said much about how all of us had come
Speaker 1: to being one of the worst prisons in the country.
Speaker 1: Most prisoners who were abused as children were taken from
Speaker 1: their natural parents at a very early age and placed
Speaker 1: in foster homes, youth homes, or juvenile halls for protection,
Speaker 1: where they acquired even more scars later in their lives.
Speaker 1: Prisons provided the same kind of painful refuge it is
Speaker 1: terror of trying to realize that a large percentage of
Speaker 1: prisoners will eventually re enter society, father children, and perpetuate
Speaker 1: what happened to them. Throughout my many years of institutionalization, I,
Speaker 1: like so many of these men, unconsciously took refuge behind
Speaker 1: prison walls. Not until I read a series of books
Speaker 1: for adults who had been abused as children that I
Speaker 1: become committed to the process of examining my own childhood.
Speaker 1: I began to unravel the reasons I had always just
Speaker 1: expected to go from one youth institution to the next.
Speaker 1: I never really tried to stay out of these places,
Speaker 1: and neither did my friends. That day, I spoke openly
Speaker 1: to my friends about my physical and mental abuse as
Speaker 1: a child. I told him that I had been neglected
Speaker 1: and then abandoned by my parents heroin addicts. When I
Speaker 1: was very young, I was beaten and whipped by my stepfather.
Speaker 1: My mother left me and my sisters alone for days
Speaker 1: with our newborn twin brother and sister. When I was
Speaker 1: only four years old. The baby boy died a death,
Speaker 1: and I always believed it was my fault since I
Speaker 1: had been made responsible for him. I spoke to them
Speaker 1: of the pain I had carried through more than a
Speaker 1: dozen institutions, pain I could never face. And I explained
Speaker 1: how all of these events ultimately trapped me in a
Speaker 1: pattern of lashing out against everything. But these men could
Speaker 1: not think of their own experiences as abuse. What I
Speaker 1: had told them seemed to sadden them, Perhaps because I
Speaker 1: had embraced a hidden truth that they could not. They
Speaker 1: avoided making the connection between my experiences and theirs. It
Speaker 1: was as if they felt I had suffered more than they.
Speaker 1: That wasn't true. What they heard was their own unspoken words. Eventually,
Speaker 1: we all fell silent around the weightlifting bench, staring across
Speaker 1: the yard at the other men exercising. John and I
Speaker 1: spoke again privately. Later. You know something, he said, The
Speaker 1: day I got used to getting beaten by my father,
Speaker 1: by the counsels in all those group homes was the
Speaker 1: day I knew nothing whatever hurt me again. Everything I
Speaker 1: thought could hurt me I saw as a game. I
Speaker 1: had nothing to lose and just about everything to gain.
Speaker 1: A prison cell will always be here for me. John
Speaker 1: was speaking most for the men I had met in prison. Secretly,
Speaker 1: we like it here, this place welcomes a man who
Speaker 1: was full of rage and violence. He is not abnormal here,
Speaker 1: not different. Prison life is an extension of his inner life. Finally,
Speaker 1: I confided to John that I wished I had been
Speaker 1: with my mother when she died. Hey, didn't you say
Speaker 1: she neglected you? He asked. John was right, she had
Speaker 1: neglected me. But am I neglected myself as well? By
Speaker 1: denying that I wished I had been with her when
Speaker 1: she died that I still love her. As Jarvis's legal
Speaker 1: team at Kirkland Analysis preparing for the post conviction proceedings
Speaker 1: to appeal his death sentence, we are planning season two
Speaker 1: of Dear Governor, in which we will follow those proceedings and,
Speaker 1: pending the reinstatement of phone privileges, Jervis is looking forward
Speaker 1: to continue sharing his story along the way. Thanks to
Speaker 1: Dion Graham for lending his passion and incomparable pipes. Special
Speaker 1: thanks to Gavrilla Wells for providing audio of Jarvis and
Speaker 1: for her steadfast devotion to human rights and social justice.
Speaker 1: Today's episode was written and produced by Donna Fazzari and myself, Cornyicole.
Speaker 1: Our theme song sentenced his compliments of the band Stick
Speaker 1: Figure from their album set in Stone. Stu Sternbach has
Speaker 1: composed the original music. Nate Defort did the sound design.
Speaker 1: If you'd like to learn more about Jarvis and support
Speaker 1: his cause, please visit free Jarvis dot org. For more
Speaker 1: podcasts from I Heart Radio, visit the I Heart Radio app,
Speaker 1: Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows
Speaker 1: back at