Prison Treats Me Like an Animal. I Write to Reclaim My Humanity.

Many times, throughout the day, I forget that I am human. After 27 years of confinement in a concrete box looking out a sliver of a window, it’s easy to forget. When I try to remember, prison staff won’t let me forget that I’m just another number. For the most part, I’m used to it. I’m like a worn-out penny. People don’t stoop over to pick me up. A penny costs more to print than its actual value...

Source