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I try to keep up with Kim Kardashian. She raised the issue of pardons for those of us who have “taken responsibility for our crimes, worked hard to turn our lives around, and are ready to get out of prison and be with our families,” as she wrote on Instagram.
This is a mission I can support.
But there are other things our lawmakers can do, in the meantime, to bring some dignity to a place known for separating people from their humanity. As someone currently serving two life sentences for my crimes, I know a thing or two about that.
This story begins 33 years ago.
I had served two years of two life sentences at Riverbend Maximum Security Prison when William Lloyd looked me in the eye: “I talked to someone in town. You can start your own business.”
Lloyd was a skinny guy. He was six feet two inches tall and light-skinned. He walked confidently. Lloyd was the unit leader at Riverbend and one of the only people in prison who looked at me as a person. It was 1991, but I’ll never forget Lloyd’s voice.
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“How are you?” he asked in a hoarse voice as he watched us in our cells. “Keep your heads up.”
Keep your head up? You don’t hear that kind of thing in prison. Usually it’s: Pull up your pants. Walk in a straight line. Don’t do it. You can’t.
Respect is something you only find in gangs. I managed to become treasurer of the Gangster Disciples. But that wasn’t what I wanted to be.
My name is Joe Baker and I killed two people.
This is the truth I live with, while my victims are not so lucky and their families have to bear the pain I caused. I am sorry for what I did. I know nothing will bring them back. The only thing I can do is help others not make the same mistakes I did.
This is the message of my podcast, Spending time with JoeDo better.
In prison, I met a few people like Mr. Lloyd, and many people like me. We know we have done wrong, and we cannot undo the pain we have caused. But we can prevent further victimization by giving our lives a better meaning.
Governor Tim Walz is a strong advocate for prison reform; his wife, Gwen, has pushed for higher education in prisons. Kim Kardashian and others have also come to understand that stripping people of their humanity in prison will not help us improve ourselves, either on the outside or in.
But in prison, you can only access programs when you’re close to being released. If you’re serving a long sentence, the only way to advance is to join a gang. I don’t know if I’ll ever see life outside these walls, but I want my life to have meaning. That’s why I started my first business, with Lloyd’s help.
“What is more important to you, children or guns?”
That’s the slogan I put on T-shirts to sell. Everyone in prison told me I was crazy. The old guys, the prison staff. Everyone except Lloyd. He knew something, in 1991, that I would learn over the next three decades.
People need to feel useful.
You do better when you have things to do. When I came up with the idea for the T-shirt, I was still selling drugs. I was still getting into trouble. I had decades ahead of me. I wasn’t going anywhere, so no one was going to invest in me.
But Lloyd helped me get my business license. Another inmate, Richie Hall, designed the shirts. I called almost every printer in the phone book and told them who I was. I had to be honest. Quick Print was the only one that would take me. One guy there took a chance on me because he had been in prison too.
We sold our first 25 t-shirts to the Metro Police and never looked back. A few years later, I left the gang. A few years after that, I published my first book.
I didn’t do it because it was easy or because we had programs to make it happen. I did it because I found people, like Lloyd, who were there to help me.
Like Walz and Kardashian, Tennessee Gov. Bill Lee has fought to make incarcerated people better than their worst crimes.
He said: “People, if given the chance, can change their lives if we have a system and a process that allows them to have that chance. That’s how we keep neighborhoods safe. That’s how we transform lives.”
We know what to do. Advisors can help us start businesses and open bank accounts. Learn a trade we’re interested in. Contribute. But most of these laws and programs aren’t accessible to people like me.
I pay taxes on my businesses. I’m here, but I’m also there, to make a difference. I don’t want my worst decision to be the only thing I’m known for.
I don’t absolve myself of the suffering I have caused, but I want to be a better human being, and others want that too.
Joe Baker Jr. is a father, grandfather, brother, and author currently serving two life sentences at the Lois M. DeBerry Special Needs Facility in Nashville, Tennessee. On “Doin Time With Joe,” his podcast on Spotify and YouTube, Joe offers advice, alternatives to the criminal lifestyle, and cautionary tales about life in prison. His work helps others become better human beings and avoid making the same mistakes he did.
All views expressed are those of the author.
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