Shaka Senghor on Incarceration, Identity, and the Gift of Literacy

Conversations with Tyler is produced by the Mercatus Center at George Mason University, bridging the gap between academic ideas and real-world problems. Learn more at mercatus.org. And for more conversations, including videos, transcripts, and upcoming dates, visit conversationswithtyler.com. Hello everyone. Today I'm honored to have with us Shaka Senghor, who is the author of a wonderful book called Righting My Wrongs: Life, Death, and Redemption in an American Prison. Shaka spent, I believe, 19 years in prison, 7 years in solitary confinement, and we'll be talking about his experience and his life and all things under the sun. Shaka, welcome.

Thank you so much for having me. I'm really excited to be here.

I have so many questions for you because your world is one that's so far from mine. Me being the stereotypical nerdy white guy. But let me start with one. How does one best spend time in solitary confinement? Like, what do you actually do?

Wow, that's an interesting question. I mean, it depends on who you are.

You.

That's one of the things. For me, I was really fortunate to be literate. And so I took that opportunity to read a lot of books and really do a lot of introspection. Unfortunately, the way solitary confinement is set up in America is really tragic. It's a very barbaric barbaric, inhumane environment. And the level of mental illness in that environment is unimaginable to most people. And so, for me, books was kind of my escape from that world. And, you know, unfortunately for others who didn't have the, you know, the skill set to be able to read or literacy, you know, they end up suffering tremendously. And I mean, there definitely were moments where, I wasn't sure how I was gonna survive it or what I was gonna do to come out with my sanity intact. And, you know, the gift of writing and the gift of being able to read was something that really helped me navigate all the emotional turmoil that comes with being in that environment.

So what kind of books did you read, and which kind of books are more useful or better in a situation of solitary confinement?

I mean, I read everything. I have varied interests. Early in my incarceration, I was fortunate to meet some of the most incredible mentors. These were men who are, some of them are dying in prison now. They've been in prison for 40, 50 years. When I first went in, some of them had already had 15 to 20 years in, and they introduced me to books very early on. And I remember them kind of trying to be a mentor to me at a time when I was pretty much incorrigible. You know, I just didn't want to listen. I was really hurt and in a very, emotionally tumultuous part of my life. You know, I was very young. I went to prison when I was 19 years old, and I thought my life was over, you know. And I was fortunate to meet these incredible men who saw something redeemable in me. And so they eventually figured a pathway in, which was through books. And the first books they— well, the first book that I actually received from them, and I remember this guy named O'Neal Eel, and he wrote books by hand. And he would give me these books to read and that he had wrote, and they were about Detroit and what was going on in street culture. But then he introduced me to an author named Donald Goines, and like, that opened up my world to the power of reading. And so I read everything from fiction to philosophy and sometimes just the dictionary. You know, I'd read Malcolm X's book, and he talked about him reading a dictionary from A to Z. I was really curious about the etymology of words, so I would study words and figure out where they derived from. And how they applied. And I also structured my days in solitary as if I was at a university. So I would get up and get my workout in, and then I would study a subject each hour.

So a book like Goymes or even Malcolm X, can you get that from a prison library, or is it censored, or does someone send it to you? How does that work?

So early when I first went to prison, you can get all type of books. As I got deeper into my prison sentence, they started banning a lot of those books. Malcolm book is probably one of the most popular books in prison because it's, I mean, it's to me, to me, I think, is the one book about personal transformation that just permeates that environment. And it doesn't matter, you know, whether you're Black, white, Native American, whatever. It's something about his redemptive story that just resonates with people who are incarcerated. And oftentimes we exchange books with each other, and we would buy books. So I would order books from different outlets that sold books to, you know, men and women in prison. And the prison library, It varies from prison to prison. Some are better than others. Back in the day, you used to get books donated by people. You know, they would have estates and they would just say, "Hey, let's donate these to the local prison." But now it's becoming more and more restrictive in terms of what you can read, and specifically around books that reflect Black culture, which was really something that was shocking to me. So a lot of those books I read in the early stages of my, incarceration are now banned. Like, you can't get Donald Goines' books the way that you used to. And their excuse is that it talks about crime and things like that. But I'm like, you can't get that, but you can get Stephen King, which is like murder and mayhem.

Can you get Shakespeare? That's also murder and mayhem.

Yeah, murder and mayhem. Yeah, you can definitely get all the Shakespearean classics and things like that. And so that's just kind of like reflects the contradictions in larger society.

So I think you were 7 years total in solitary and one period of 4 years running. Toward the end of that 4-year period, did you feel like you were going crazy or did you have some greater stoic sense of calm?

So I went through, when I did the 4.5-year stretch, I went through this moment of really just trying to figure out my life and how did I go from being an honor roll student with dreams of being a doctor to serving out my most promising years in prison. And that led me down a path of journaling. And so I began to go back and try to unravel that big question of why and, you know, the big questions of why and how. And, you know, through that process, I began to realize that I had never accomplished anything in my life. And so I set out on this journey to write a book and to write that book in 30 days. And so I did that, wrote a second book, and started a third one, and then I fell into a deep bout of depression. And I probably had about 3 years in at that point, maybe 2 and a half, 3 years. And I was depressed for a few months because I realized, like, this dream that I was discovering, I didn't have a way to give birth to it because I was in an environment where it was just hard to really get my words out into the world. And so I, you know, I was able to navigate that fortunately. And, you know, again, journaling, you know, letters from my father, being able to really talk extensively with him through the written word was really helpful, you know. And so I would go back and read his letters and read books, you know, that inspired me. Long Walk to Freedom, Nelson Mandela, and, you know, James Allen, As a Man Thinketh. And so I was constantly just challenging my mind to get through the day. And one of the things that I personally live by and what I discover is if you can get through the pain of the moment, you can come out on the other side of anything. And so for me, It was just about moment-to-moment existence and being fully present in those moments for what they were.

Now, there's a research study I was reading. It suggests that as prisoners come closer to the date of their release, they actually make more escape attempts because the notion of release becomes more real to them. They think about the outside world more. Do you think that's true, or do you have a perspective on that?

I think there's a lot of anxiety associated with getting out of prison, and especially if you're in a space where you don't even think you're ever gonna get out. And then that day finally comes, and you look up, and it's— 2 decades have gone by, and now you're about to enter a whole new world. And what I don't think a lot of people really consider when it comes to people who are returning back to society is that there is this idea of coming into a very foreign world. The world that I left didn't exist when I got out. It was a very different world, different people. Most of the people in my life had kind of, you know, moved on with their lives while I was incarcerated. So there was definitely some anxiety of like, how would people look? How would they feel? What would the conversations be like? How receptive would the world be to me returning? And who am I in this new world that I'm returning to? I mean, when in prison, I had ascended to being a key decision maker in regards to what happened on the prison yard. And now I'm walking into a new world where I have to create a whole new identity as a free man.. And as an adult man, you know, I went in as a kid. And so there's a lot of anxiety associated with that. And I've seen guys like blow their paroles because they get to that door and they're all of a sudden they're realizing, you know, the mother that was there when I went to prison, like she's no longer here, she's dead. And they don't have anybody to go home to. And so it's like, how am I going to survive in this new world on the other side of this fence? So I can't say that I've seen anybody attempt to escape. But I have seen guys, you know, compromise their parole and end up serving more time as opposed to walking out of the doors free.

Do you think solitary confinement can ever be good for prisoners?

No.

In your own story, you seem to give an account where it's the turning point in your thoughts that occurs during solitary. And that, to you, is coincidence, and solitary was just terrible.

Well, I think, you know, one of the things that I always caution people about, especially when it comes to my story, And it's the idea that solitary made me who I am today. And the reality is the choices I made while I was in solitary is what made me who I am today. And it kind of makes me think about our mutual, you know, friend Ben, and the book is like, "What You Do Is Who You Are." This is Ben Horowitz, yes. Yeah, Ben Horowitz. And so for me, it was more about what I chose to do in that environment as opposed to, you know, the environment itself changed me. Like, solitary isn't designed for you to come out better as a person. That's like a very personal choice I had to make in some very tough circumstances. And again, I had the gift of literacy. You know, I've read this book called Cages of Steel, and the book outlined exactly what solitary is designed to do to a human being. And so because I was aware of that, whenever I felt those, you know, things happening inside of me, I was able to combat that. And if you're walking into that environment and you're illiterate, or you don't have access to this information, you don't know how to deal with being in a cell, being in an environment where people have extremely high levels of mental illness, where it's extremely hard to find any type of solace because it's very noisy, very chaotic. Even with the officers, you know, you see how it transformed them into different people and how they treat the men in that environment. And so I can't say that solitary itself done me any good in that way. I was just fortunate to be able to make choices based on information that I had at my disposal.

You also mention mental illness quite a bit in your book and how common it is in prison. When people receive the sentence, you know, something like not guilty for reason of insanity, do you have views on that? Do you think it's a good idea? We should have more of it, less of it?

I think that we need to decriminalize mental illness. And when I think about solitary confinement, I think about a lot of the guys that I saw end up in that environment, and they end up being incapable of getting out because they consistently are in violation of whatever the prison rules are. But one of the things people don't think about is that if you're dealing with somebody who has schizophrenia, like, they can't even comprehend the rules in a way that somebody who doesn't have it does, and prisons just aren't equipped to handle mental illness. Like in Michigan, when I went to prison, this was 1991, and at that time my father actually worked in mental health space, and they just started closing down all these facilities. And those people who would normally get treatment in a mental health facility started ending up in prison. And once they get in, it's extremely hard for them to get out because the behavior, uh, which is rooted in their mental illness, is in violation of the prison rules, so they continue to get punished over and over and over again. And to me, it's the saddest and it's the sickest thing about our prison system is that we have— because there's not a lot of transparency, most citizens who are paying the taxes for these spaces don't know what happens in our prison. And that's crazy, you know, when you really think about it. Prior to President Obama leaving office, he was like the first sitting president in about 4 decades to actually go inside a prison. And when you think about the reality that we have over 2 million men and women in prison, millions more on parole or probation, and, you know, this has a profound impact on our society. And we don't know what's going on in there. And so if it wasn't for people like myself and the many other advocates of prison and criminal justice reform getting out and being able to articulate what has happened in there and what's happening to people, society would still be ignorant to what's really going on. And so for me, it's one of the things that inspired me to write the book because I wanted people to know this is what we're paying for.

Before President Reagan, there was a much higher rate of forcibly institutionalizing people into mental homes. Is that part of your ideal solution, or you think it should just be more treatment and not so much coercion?

I think that in a society that has as many resources as we have, it is ridiculous to think that we can't treat people outside of facilities. I think people do better when they're in spaces where there's holistic healthcare, holistic mental wellness care. And to think that we can't do that given how much money we spend on prisons is pretty much a bit ridiculous. And I mean, and it's rooted in what prisons really are. You know, they're extension of shadow slavery, which, you know, is a reality of our country when you think about the 13th Amendment, which was supposed to eliminate slavery, it actually created a loophole for slavery to reemerge in a new way. And that's, you know, you see that in prisons where you get this cheap labor and oftentimes free labor. And, you know, people are exploiting that and it's been exploited for years. But now I think both parties are realizing it's coming at an astronomical cost to the rest of society. And this is where you've seen a shift in terms of criminal justice reform.

You mention in your book, I think, that there were 36 cases of misconduct brought against you. Were you guilty of those, or were they trumped-up charges?

Or how do you think about that? I was pretty much guilty of all of them.

They never trumped a few up?

That's amazing to me. I mean, I've been in trouble for some things that I didn't do and definitely have, but those, the actual misconducts, I think I pretty much did all those. And largely, when I went to prison, what I didn't realize is that I was still suffering from PTSD from when I got shot at the age of 17. And going to prison, this very volatile environment, compounded that PTSD. And when I went to prison, I thought my life was over. I didn't think I was ever getting out. I mean, I was 19 years old, looking at 17 to 40 years, with 40 being the only guaranteed time. And as a 19-year-old, you can barely see 2 weeks down the line, let alone 2 decades. And so, I acted out of that emotional instability that most young guys act out of when they're in that environment. It's very volatile, a lot of fights, a lot of rebellion. And for me, it took years to really just, you know, to mature in, you know, nature. Like, even now, out here in California, they recognize the brain science that, you know, the brains of kids don't actually mature until they're about 25, 26. So you're still considered a juvenile at that point. So imagine if you're 19 years old, you're thrown into this volatile environment, and you know, you're told that you just have to be a model prisoner in order to get out. Like, it's not realistic that that's going to happen. And I mean, and the other part of it is that it's a very antagonistic environment, you know. It took me years to develop empathy and compassion for the officers that actually work in the environment. And it actually occurred to me when I was leaving off a visit, And anytime you go on a visit in prison, when you come out of the visit, you have to get strip searched. And I would always wonder, like, why is this officer so antagonistic during the strip search? And then I would just realize, like, his job is to look at buttholes 40 hours a week. And that can't be a pleasant job to have. And so, you know, to think that this is your job, this is your life, this is how you earn your livelihood. To take care and provide for your family, the reality is that you're going to be impacted by that. And I mean, you're talking about every matter of butthole you can think of, you know, shaven, unshaven, fat, slim, clean, unclean. And this is a job, you know, that people have. And you have to imagine that it's not comfortable being in that position. And so what does that do to a human being? How does that change you when you're seeing people at their worst and most vulnerable moment as an occupation. And then you have to figure out how do you treat these people with dignity when your job doesn't even have dignity in its title description. And so for that, you know, you start to think about how people are impacted and why the environment becomes so antagonistic. And you start to— it starts to all make sense. So yeah, I got in a lot of trouble.

Outside of the prison, do you think the prison guards are as nice as everyone else, or do you think they're systematically different? How nice are they as a class of people?

I mean, the reality is that in most of these environments, you're talking about very rural prisons. You're talking about low education and easy entry points to an environment. You're talking about racial dynamics. You know, I was in, I grew up in a city that's predominantly Black in Detroit, but every prison I was in was predominantly ran by, you know, white guards from rural communities. And so there's an instant antagonism because of— well, in a lot of instances, their first interaction with people of color is happening in a very volatile, very antagonistic environment. And, you know, it's hard to come out of that environment and be a nice person. And I mean, I was really fortunate to meet people in that environment that were just good people. You know, I used to work with a guy, I worked for a guy, my supervisor, recreation supervisor named Tom Scheit. He's one of my good friends to this day, you know, and he's one of the men who, I worked for in that environment that was super compassionate, super thoughtful. And I mean, we worked in a tough environment. So the recreation center, you know, when we come off the yard, you're talking about 300 guys that's locked in this one building. It's one officer and one rec supervisor, and maybe sometimes two recreation supervisors. And the thing that made Tom special is he always acknowledged our humanity. He always was thoughtful about how he engaged us. He always was trying to inspire the best in us. And so I'm always conscious to not portray everybody who works in the system as bad people because there are people who are well-meaning and good intention. It's just a tough environment to maintain that when you've been in it for so long. And like, even, you know, in California, I've worked with people in the CDCR who are just incredibly thoughtful about how do we transform the spaces to where you can help men and women come home healthy and whole. And unfortunately, that's just not the norm around the country.

So there's a rebellious side in your past.

Absolutely.

And there's a productive side in your present, writing this book, all the other things you're doing. And how do those two things fit together? Does the rebellious side of you, channeled now, give you greater productivity? Or how do you view that?

I mean, I think of it all as energy, you know, and how you choose to direct the energy. And when I was inside in the early stage of my incarceration, Um, I mismanaged that energy in a way that happens when you're emotionally undeveloped, you know. But as I began to develop and mature as a man, I began to channel those things into productive outputs. Um, and it's all about identity, you know. I went in with a distorted identity of who I was as a person, you know. I grew up in an environment that tells you that your only outcomes can be an early death or a prison sentence. And so that behavior and that narrative is normalized. And it wasn't until I began to change the narrative and internally by finding ways to add value to my life, by finding ways to self-identify in a way that was healthy and whole. And so now there's definitely that rebellion. Like, you know, when I got out of prison, I was so optimistic, you know, I just thought that people would say, okay, he served his time, you know, he wants an opportunity to be employed. He, you know, he just wants to create a space to be a productive citizen. And sadly, the way society is set up, that's just not our norm. You know, it's hard to find employment. So I've had to always create employment opportunities. And, you know, again, and I'll reiterate this over and over, literacy played a major role in me becoming who I am today. And having the skill set as a writer, it created my first employment opportunity. And so for me, that energy is still rebellious, but it's rebellious against injustice, you know, and I use that energy and whenever I find myself angry at an injustice is what can I contribute as a human being to change that? To help other people think about things differently, to bring people in proximity to spaces that they normally wouldn't be in. And so, you know, again, it's just directing the energy in a productive way.

Prisoners as a whole, at least if circumstances had been different, do you think they're an especially entrepreneurial group?

So I'll start with reframing it a little bit. One, I am vehemently opposed to calling people who are incarcerated prisoners. And one of the reasons that I am that way is because, you know, these are men, these are fathers, they're brothers, they're sisters, they're sons, they're daughters, they're mothers. And I think that until we can identify and recognize that part, it's hard for us to help them.

What should we call them?

Humans.

Okay. But we need humans who are in prison.

Yeah, absolutely. Yeah. Men and women who are incarcerated. Do I think they're— I think a lot of us come from a culture where hustling was part of our survival. And what I found in my own ability to be successful in the world where they're constantly telling you that you can't get employment or you can't get housing is that the skill sets I learned in the streets from hustling are transferable. And so when I got out of prison, like, I hustled books out of the trunk of my car. Like, I didn't start off with being a New York Times bestseller with a published book by a major publishing outlet, Convergent, uh, Penguin Random House. Like, I started off self-published out the trunk of the car, and basically I used the same model that I used when I sold crack cocaine. You know, it's like you buy low, sell high, and you know, you create profit, uh, create margins, um, based on how you invest. And even with just networking, like, I learned that in the street. I learned that in order to survive in the street, you need to have allies in different areas And you need to have partnerships if you wanted to be successful as a drug entrepreneur, a pharmaceutical, a street distributor. You need to figure out how to be, you know, networked in, in different, not even just different neighborhoods, but in different cities. So those are transferable skills. And the leadership that I developed in the street culture and in prison, even in an underground market in prison, like I ran a lot of the hustles in there early on. So basically, Um, you know, I would, I would run what we call, uh, sucker stores or black market stores, and they have incredible margins. So it's like you buy one product from me, then you owe me two, uh, when you get your money. And so, uh, that skill set transfers to any, uh, entrepreneur endeavor. And a lot of men and women in that environment have that skill set, but they also have many other skill sets. There's brilliant artists in that environment. There's brilliant singers and athletes and creators and Um, and I think it's, it's one of the spaces where now people are starting to realize we've been throwing away talent, you know, and, and I always think of it from this perspective, right? I did a, I was a, I was a fellow at MIT Media Lab and I did a prison hack there one day. And basically I gave them 5 design challenges based on how we survived in prison. And they were as complex as making a tattoo gun out of a tape player motor or ink pen. And a guitar string, onto making a lighter out of batteries and wire. And these are things that men inside prison do all the time to survive. And when I did this hackathon, none of the students were able to complete it in the time that was allotted. It was about 3 hours. You go in any prison and guys will complete that task in 30 seconds. And so basically, you know, instead of, you know, when, when you, when people get caught in there, they're put in solitary. You make a tattoo gun, you're put in solitary. Whereas if we're really thoughtful about what are the best outcomes we can produce, how about we get this person in the engineering class and figure out how they can utilize that skill set when they get out of prison, as opposed to punishing them for figuring out how to survive?

What's the most common medium of exchange in prison? You mentioned doing these deals. What's the central item traded? Is it dollars? Is it cigarettes?

So when I first went in, it was, It was cigarettes. Cigarettes was pretty much the most steady currency. And then that was taken out, they banned cigarette smoking in prisons. And then stamps became the currency because you could send stamps to the free world and have your family exchange that for currency. And then it becomes food and cosmetics. So, you know, soap has value in prison. You can trade that off for food and things like that. And, you know, everything has currency. And it's one of the things that's kind of interesting about the environment. When you think about the history of currency in the world, where back in the day you just bartered and you exchanged things, and the same thing happens in prison. So, you know, what I learned from that is that money is only based on the idea behind it and what value you assign to the idea behind the particular form of currency you choose to exchange. And the same thing is in prison.

The individuals who are incarcerated, what are their senses of humor like? Is it different on the inside or just the same? Are they funnier?

It is probably one of the most fascinating, quick-witted spaces you can imagine. You know, I did an interview some years back with Trevor Noah, and I remember telling him like, yeah, I was like, prison is hilarious. And he was like, no, no, no, that doesn't seem like quite a good narrative. But what I always explain to people is that you can't survive that environment without the ability to laugh at the absurdity of it, at the ability to laugh at the, you know, craziness of it, the creativity of it. And I mean, you have some brilliant, brilliant comedians in that environment. There's actually a comedian who's free now, Ali Siddiq, who's just an incredible storyteller, and he's a great comedian. And that talent is abundant in that environment. I mean, guys crack jokes all the time. The officers crack jokes. You know, it's one of the things that is universal, you know, is laughter, and you need that in order to survive hardship.

So you're removed from a big part of the world for about 19 years, and then you get out. And put aside the law, crime, prison, all those topics. Just think of it as having been somewhere else for 19 years. What to you is the biggest surprise when you're out again? Not about how people perceive you or anything to do with that, just the world.

Technology was unbelievably shocking.

What in particular?

Everything. I mean, like, when I came home, I remember the first time—

the year you went away again is—

I went in 1991, so this is before the internet was even a thing, right?

Right.

Um, you know, and so when I came home and I realized you can like Skype people— yes— you know, it made me think about the Jetsons, you know, the things that we grew up— I grew up as a kid watching and we never thought would be possible. I mean, cars that talk, you know, telephones, smart technology. All those things were overwhelming. They were fascinating, but also a bit overwhelming 'cause I realized that in that 20 years that I had been gone, like, the world had created a whole new language, you know? And even in the 10 years since I've been home, you know, so much has changed in that time period. And so it was just a quick, fast learning curve, you know? And when I got out, I remember like the anxiety. So I didn't even know the difference between like a Word document and the internet. And I remember every time I was like getting ready to save a Word document, I would always ask, you know, is this gonna get a computer a virus? 'Cause I didn't know the difference between those two things. So I had a, you know, a quick learning curve. I had to learn all this new language and you know, I'm a nerd too. So I'm just, you know, I'm a cool nerd though. But I love it. I love learning. You know, I love the idea of how to utilize this as a writer and as a content creator. And so it was just fascinating to come out and discover this fascinating technology and all the different ways it allows us to connect today.

What about social mores? Did anything surprise you?

I would say socially, I think the thing that I'm most shocked by now especially given, you know, the prominence of social media in the world, is how mean-spirited people are toward each other, who— and toward people who just have different beliefs, and how easy it is for us to just cancel people because they don't believe what we believe, or they don't see things the way that we see things. It's like the world that we live in now seems to be very volatile in terms of human interaction. I think what social media has done has really just exposed us for who we truly are. You know, in years past, it was easy to kind of mask racism and mask, you know, gender bias and mask, you know, misogyny and all these different things because we didn't have the level of transparency we have now. And so I think that, you know, this is part of our growth. You know, you have to have that transparency. You have to have something that challenges the way that we think, the way that we see things. And when you have that, it's very uncomfortable early on, but hopefully, and maybe this is just the optimist in me, I think we'll get through these rough periods and find what I believe is our common core values of being humane and compassionate toward each other.

So you think racism is perhaps today more transparent, not necessarily higher, but more in your face and more disturbing?

Yeah, absolutely. I'm not even disturbed by it because I know that this always exists. I know that's one of the things that when you're in an environment like prison, is super present, you know, and it's very clear that we live in a very racist society. It's, you know, when you get out to society, you realize, like, you know, racism shows up in different ways though. There's systemic racism, there's implicit bias, there's ignorance, you know, there's blatant overt racism. And I think the reason that it exists in the form that it exists in is because as a country, we've been cowardly in just saying, "Hey, this is what has happened here," right? You know, we're coming up on 400 years. New York Times is doing this incredible study or examination of, you know, the 400 years since 1619 when the first enslaved people were brought to the shores of America. And now when you think about that, it's been 400 years that we haven't had an honest conversation. We haven't had a national apology. And I think until we have those things, we'll always grapple with, you know, the reality of racism in America and how it permeates so many aspects of our culture. And to me, I think it's just cowardly and lazy thinking because once you can say, "Hey, this was really a terrible thing that's happened to other people," and we see how it impacts other people, you know, and you see how systemically it hurts and harms people, then you can have a real conversation.

Other than your own book, what book or movie do you think best captures life in a U.S. prison?

Ah, what book or movie? Hmm. I think it's really complex. I don't think we've had any real good movies in a long time about the American judicial system in general. I think there was a show, The Night Of, on HBO was really interesting. And I think it highlighted some things. Surprisingly, I would say Orange Is the New Black was really more accurate than people would believe. I think when they see us, Specifically, the fourth part of that was really intriguing in terms of like showing people how this system is so flawed. And from a documentary standpoint, what Ava DuVernay did with 13th was just brilliant. Like, because it connected all the dots between the 13th Amendment and what's currently happening in terms of mass incarceration. There was the Cleve Browder movie, which was really about this young man who, was accused of a crime he didn't commit, and he went through 2 years of solitary confinement. And when he got out, he was unable to unpack all the things that happened to him and eventually committed suicide. And I think that was just such a tragic story and a narrative that we should all keep our eyes on because it's happening to so many people. But I definitely think we're poised for something that's more about the human journey and what happens to humans on the inside and what even leads to people being in prison. And so I'm hoping to be able to add to that narrative in some way soon.

A much older book, Jack Henry Abbott, In the Belly of the Beast. Do you know it?

I haven't read that one. I've read a lot of books about prison, probably more than I care to remember. But, you know, I think the redemptive stories are super important and needed, you know?

So would you say that in prison you in some way discovered religion?

When I was in prison, I mean, I grew up in a household where my mother went to church, you know, in the grew up in a community where church was a big part of, you know, that experience. So I wouldn't necessarily say that I discovered religion in prison. I went through several iterations of figuring out what my spiritual journey is. You know, I studied Christianity, I studied Islam, I studied Buddhism. And what I realized for me personally, that my spiritual journey is really about learning, you know, an ability to connect with other human beings. To me, I think the greatest scripture ever written is nature itself. You know, if you think about the infinite nature of the sky or the depth of the ocean, to me, I think that's metaphors for who we are as human beings, like our infinite ability to connect and the depth of which we can really stretch, you know, our imagination across any sector if we're present to it. Meditation is a big part of how I live my life. Mindfulness, being super present in the moment, is really important to me 'cause I think the moments are all that we have. And so, you know, I studied religion a lot early on in my incarceration, largely the influence, you know, of Malcolm X and his journey, that self-discipline that he was able to develop through his religious practices. And just the curiosity of like, you know, historically what we've thought about a divine power, you know, bringing all of this, magic into the world as we know it now. And so I'm still on that quest, still on that journey. I'm still learning. You know, that's the thing I love about life is every interaction is an opportunity to learn.

Do you think of yourself as a Black Muslim the way Malcolm X was?

No, I no longer subscribe to the Islamic faith. I've actually haven't subscribed to that faith in years and decades. I think some of the principles of all the faiths, you know, it's one of the things that I love is that I can pull from any of those tenets and doctrines something that's useful and meaningful to my life spiritually today. I probably study more Eastern philosophy than anything because I'm really about self-governance. I'm all about personal responsibility and accountability, and I don't think that you have to deify that in order to be successful and to be spiritually connected. I think that it's just, you know, a pathway to deeper learning when you don't have the restrictions of somebody else's dogma.

The Malonic Islamic Palace of the Rising Sun, what role do they play in prisons?

It was a very small group within Michigan prison, very unique. It had formed in Michigan's prison, and it was really a combination of social activism with religious theory behind it. And the group has legally been disbanded in Michigan prisons because it was labeled as a security threat group. But it's one of the spaces where I learned the most about life and what, how I wanted to show up in the world. You know, it was through that pathway that I got introduced to a wealth of knowledge, you know, and the ability to study and learn and be disciplined in my practices. And it played an integral role in my development as a man.

And you became a manager of sorts, a kind of personnel manager.

Yeah, I was a leader at it. And so every space there, every prison has its own temple or its own space of practice. And I was oftentimes either the education director or the spiritual advisor. And as a spiritual advisor, it comes with a great deal of responsibility. That's the equivalent of being a pastor or deacon or whatever name is for the church or imam for the Muslim faith. And with that pathway of leadership, I really, was able to grow in terms of understanding how do you practice what you preach, because it's very difficult to do in prison. It's a very volatile environment. But it was through that pathway that I was able to refine my own personal principles and evolve as a leader.

If you're looking for a deputy of sorts to carry out some task reliably or to be allied with you, what qualities do you look for? How do you spot talent? You as venture capitalist.

Oh, as a VC, if I was a VC.

You have been a VC.

Yeah, basically of sorts, right? Uh, to me, it's people who can honor and actually follow through on what their word is. Uh, innovative thinkers, you know, people who are thinking about not only their personal agenda, but how does what they bring to the table add value to the organization. And I think, you know, I've been executive director, uh, CEO of organizations since I've been out of prison. And, you know, in my hiring practice, it was always about What are we missing in the company that we really need? You know, listening to Ben sometimes, uh, who's, uh, not only a great friend of mine, but he's kind of like my default mentor. I don't know if I've ever even told him that. Uh, but he's such a wealth of wisdom. And, you know, one of the stories he tells is about talking to a woman who runs an all-women-based company, and he asked her a question about why and what does she look for. And she said helpfulness, and that you know, women oftentimes are more helpful than men. And what I think of in hiring practices or in recruitment of partnerships or things like that is what are skill sets that I'm lacking? Because otherwise you end up hiring somebody who's like you and then you're just running down the same railroad and you're not able to accomplish as much. So I'm always thinking about what are skill sets that I don't have, um, that, or what my organization like now I'm building out my own creative content company. And I'm always thinking about, "Okay, what are the skill sets that I don't have?" Like, I know I can create the content, can deliver the content, but what are the intangibles that I need in order to be successful as a content creator in the world? And so it's always those things that often fly off people's radar. And in prison, you know, there were different things that were needed. You know, when you're running an organization in that environment, you know, your preoccupation is with safety. But it's also with how do you create allies, you know? And like, that's a different skill set. So you're looking for somebody who's diplomatic, somebody who understands how to create space for both parties to walk away with their manhood intact and with their safety and well-being secured. So it's always about those intangible skill sets.

It seems to me, from my great distance, that a lot of men in prison have women on the outside who are very strongly attracted to them. How do you think about that? Why do you think there's a special attraction to men in prison?

I mean, I think—

Or do you think it's not true?

I think, no, I think it is true. I think there's, I think part of that narrative is true.

And beautiful women too.

Yeah.

Especially beautiful women.

Yeah. I think there's a few things that happens. One is there is the intrigue of mystery. You know, like, who are these men? And, you know, there's also the power dynamic. You know, somebody who can survive that environment There's something powerful about that aura that attracts people into that space. I think there's also, you know, the refining of the principles that oftentimes are sought out, you know, the intelligence, the, you know, the cultivation of, you know, emotional presence. And then there's also the other part of just like the safety of knowing that this person isn't out here running amok and that they have you know, their undivided attention. So, you know, those relationships can be healthy and productive, or they can be very unbalanced and dysfunctional in a different way. But, you know, it's all type of relationships that show up in that environment.

Now, you're from Detroit. Let's say a philanthropist came up to you and gave you the power to give away, say, $20 million to Detroit in some way. Do you have any thoughts on how that money should be spent?

Absolutely. I mean, I love my hometown. I mean, I live in LA now, and I love LA. Uh, but I have a personal deep relationship with Detroit, and I think Detroit is one of the greatest places for hustlers and grit. Like, you can't survive in that city without, you know, being a hustler or having some type of grit, you know. And then, you know, Detroit is like essential to the fabric of America in a way that people don't often think of. Um, the automotive industry, you know, it's where it emerged at, in Detroit. So Without Detroit, there's no car industry, you know, Motown music. I don't know many people who have not heard a song from Motown in various ways. And so we've contributed mightily to American culture. But what I would create would be a very high-level tech-inspired entrepreneurial school, a school for hustlers, you know, that includes all the technology, but also, you know, even vocational. I think that's those trades are often overlooked, you know, and we live in an economy now where people are looking for laborers and carpentry and electricians and plumbers and things like that. So it'll be a hybrid school of technology and vocational, but with that Detroit swagger added to it.

What from the history of Detroit music is especially important to you?

Um, the history of Detroit music, man, there's so much, you know, um, I think about— when I think about Motown, I think about the brilliance of Berry Gordy to really find and discover talent that was just blocks away, you know?

One of the best venture capitalists of the century, right?

Absolutely. Absolutely. I think one of the greatest entrepreneurs, the greatest curator of talent. And when you think about where the talent came from, I mean, Diana Ross was in Brewster Projects, and, you know, so much talent was right in this little, 2 or 3 mile radius, you know, like that part resonates with me. But the other thing that really excites me is, you know, techno music. And a lot of people don't know the roots of techno music being in Detroit, you know, like now we have all this music. I think they call it like emo, EDM. I— they have some fancy name for it now, but it's rooted in techno music. And the architects of that music, you know, grew up in Detroit and started there. And so You know, when I think about music culture, like, those things really matter to me. And, you know, of course, Marvin Gaye and, you know, What's Going On is so timeless, and it still applies to where we at in America right now. And I mean, like, that music, you know, the musical legacy there is just unparalleled.

Do you think that hip-hop music today is a revolutionary or a conservative force?

I think it's revolutionary. I mean, you know, it's the most influential culture in the world right now. There's nothing more influential in terms of music, you know, than hip-hop. Hip-hop as a culture, but rap specifically as an element of that culture. And, you know, I'm fortunate to now be in conversations with a lot of artists. You know, I just spent some time with T.I. on a panel in Atlanta where we got a chance to talk about criminal justice. And so basically you have these artists who are using their platform to talk about, you know, social impact. I just spent time with Nas, who inspired me when I was incarcerated. Like, his song "One Love," I felt like it was a personal letter to me. And so to be able to come full circle through our relationship with Ben and spend time with him and just show him how his music is inspiring people to think about life differently, you know, there's nothing more revolutionary than turning around the hearts and minds of men who are in environments where there seems to be no hope. So I still think it's revolutionary even though a lot of it's been commercialized. I'm always finding artists who are really pushing the envelope, you know, artists like J. Cole and Kendrick Lamar who are doing like super innovative things and shifting the way that we see the world.

Which do you prefer more, Middle Eastern food or muffins?

Middle Eastern food by far.

Excellent in and near Detroit, right?

Absolutely. I mean, some of the best food outside the Middle East definitely happens in Detroit. So I love that food along with soul food, which is my next favorite.

If you think about your life and where your life will go, do you see traveling to many different places as an integral part of what you will learn next? Or how does travel fit into your vision of yourself?

Absolutely. I mean, I've been fortunate to be able to travel a lot. I'm coming up on 10 years of freedom, you know.

And where do you want to go and how do you think about where you will go?

So, yeah. So I'm actually kicking off my 10 years of freedom this weekend.

Congratulations.

I'm celebrating with, uh, Uh, with Ben, Ben is treating me to an amazing weekend of just sports engagement. So it'll be like a brother weekend. Uh, it's kind of funny because people be like, "Y'all got a bromance." But, uh, he's just an incredibly thoughtful friend, and his wife Felicia, who's like my big sister, uh, they've been so kind and gracious in helping me really celebrate life, you know? They've given me an abundance of gifts in that way of life experiences, saying, "Hey, you should go out and just celebrate. You know, you're free now. So we're gonna kick that off. And then December, I'm taking a trip to Ghana, you know, for 2 weeks. And it'll be the first time— Great country. Yeah, it'll be the first time that I'm actually taking a real 2-week vacation. You know, I've had other cool trips. Felicia and I went to the Dominican Republic a few months back. And, you know, that was earlier this year. And that was an incredible experience to go over there and just explore that country. And so I'm celebrating by doing 10 crazy different experiences. Some of them require travel. I'm going to Tokyo at some point. I'm going to skydive, probably around the celebration anniversary of my freedom. You know, it's really about taking a leap of faith, because under any other circumstance, I never would have been just jumping out of an airplane.

I'm afraid to do that.

I don't even— I don't even know if I'm afraid yet. I just didn't think it was something I would be doing, but I'm gonna do it. You know, I think fear is all the reason and motivation to do it. You know, the more fears you conquer, the more pleasant life becomes.

You were thinking about the problem of recidivism, people who upon their release commit crimes again. What do you think we can do to improve our accuracy of who will commit crime again and who will not? Do you feel we're optimizing now or it's all screwed up?

So I think a couple of things about recidivism that people don't know is one, Most people who go back don't necessarily go back because they committed a new crime. Oftentimes they go back because they've committed a technical parole or probation violation. And there's an organization that's led by Van Jones called Reform Alliance who's doing some incredible work about reforming the probation system. And that's based on the rapper Meek Mill. He was incarcerated, he was sentenced to 2 to 4 years for like the most ridiculous probation violation. You know, he popped a willy in New York and broke up a fistfight with his friend and some guy who accosted his friend, and they violated his probation and then sentenced him to 2 to 4 years. And a group of us, you know, when I was working with Cut 50, uh, that was led by Jessica Jackson at the time, we created a campaign, the Free Meek Mills campaign, along with Roc Nation. Um, and now they've, you know, shifted that into a whole new movement to end probation, you know, technical probation and parole violations. And so one of the things is the restrictions that people have. So just say, for example, I was out on parole and I was jaywalking and an officer approached me and said, you know what, you're jaywalking, I'm writing you a ticket. I have to go report that to my parole officer, and my parole officer can decide whether to violate my parole because I've come in contact with law enforcement again. And so people go back for stuff as ridiculous as jaywalking. People go back because they can't pay fees and fines. And if you can't pay your fees and fines, you end up getting your parole violated. And it's kind of ridiculous when you think about it because it's so hard to find employment. So I think to disrupt that, one, we need to do away with these technical violations. And secondly, we have to create space for people to find employment and housing. When I got out of prison, I didn't know that it was legal to discriminate against people with a felony in housing. I didn't know that it was legal to discriminate against people with felony when it comes to, in some states, voting. So you can pay taxes, but you can't vote in some states. You can be barred from employment by having a felony on your record. A lot of people don't even know that you can actually be charged more for life insurance if you have a felony. You can't use TSA, which your taxes pay for, if you have a felony. So there's literally 40,000 collateral consequences of having a felony on your record. And so it's exceptionally hard for people to get out of prison and to not only survive, but to thrive at any level, you know. So people oftentimes end up resorting back to hustling just to take care of themselves and provide for their family. And I think those things are easily fixable.

In prison, did you have to pay those crazy fees and fines we read about, like 10 times the normal price for a phone call?

Yes, absolutely. At one point, it was costing about $15 for a 15-minute phone call. So literally a dollar a minute. They're not as high now, but they're still higher than what we pay. Like, even now to talk to my friends, I have to pay like 5 to 10 cents to send them an email, but I can send emails to anybody in free society all day for free. And I still pay for their phone calls, and they call— it's probably about, uh, $3 per call now, far more than what I pay for my phone bill. And so, you know, it's just ridiculous how that environment exploits the families of, you know, men and women who are incarcerated. And oftentimes these families are poor and can't really afford to stay in contact with their family members or go see or go visit them.

Now, some people argue that if we either legalized or decriminalized drugs, this would make for a better nation and also improve our prison problems. Do you have an opinion?

Absolutely. I think that drugs, you know, the choice to use drugs are personal choices and that, you know, adults should be able to choose what they do with their bodies. Like, I don't, you know, you think about When I personally think about inner city life and conflicts that happen, most of the conflicts happen as a result of using alcohol as opposed to using drugs. Like, I don't know many weed smokers that want to do anything other than, you know, eat good food and watch comedy and laugh and/or do something creative. Whereas, you know, alcohol on the other hand oftentimes can be very volatile. So I just think we over-legislate people's lives in a way that's not healthy. And we see that now with places where marijuana has been legalized. Like, you haven't seen an increase in crime. If anything, you've seen a decrease. Uh, the unfortunate part of that is that the people who in the past have been, you know, sentenced for drug-related offenses are finding it really hard to enter that industry, uh, and make money off that. So now the same people who at one time was creating laws to incarcerate people are now creating laws that are creating opportunities for their friends to financially benefit. And I think we need to change that model and make it easier for people who were at one time incarcerated to engage in that industry.

Should we all just stop drinking alcohol voluntarily, but stop altogether?

No, because I love tequila, so I'm definitely not signed up for that. But my point in raising that argument is again, it's up to individuals to do these things responsibly. And if not, then you accept the consequence that comes with irresponsibility. And I don't think that that should be any different with the usage of marijuana. And I can't say about other drugs. I mean, again, I still think it's a personal choice that people make. I'm not going to advocate for people to become opioid addicts, but I think decriminalizing it can definitely figure out different ways to deal with that. Like I think people who have opioid addictions or any other schedule, I think it's like Schedule I drug addictions should be treated as opposed to incarcerated.

Some employers now are, they've stopped asking job applicants if they have any kind of criminal record. Do you think this has a major positive impact, small impact, no impact? Any opinion?

I think it has a major positive impact. So for example, in June I stepped down as the executive director of an organization here in LA called Recidivism Coalition. It was founded by Scott Budnick, who's most often known for, uh, producing the movie Hangover. But he founded this organization about 6 or 7 years ago now, and the idea was to help men and women return to society healthy and whole. And one of the things that we did at that organization is we hired most of the staff. So when I left, about 68% of the staff was system impacted, meaning that they had been in prison from anywhere from 3 years to 30 years. And I can tell you some of the best workers with the highest skill set, highest level of commitment that you can ever imagine. Us being on time means being an hour early. We also created partnerships here in LA with vocational trades. So a lot of our members are actually building the current LA Stadium, the new Rams Stadium. There's a lot of our members who are working in the film industry now as a result of this organization. The firefighters, we know that the wildfires are a major issue, especially now here in LA. And we created a partnership with LA Fire, and we created a fire camp in Ventura where formerly incarcerated men are now getting employment to fight these fires. And they're very committed. You know, the way that we show up in these spaces, like people rave about that work. And so for me, it's really about, do we create opportunities that give people hope that they can contribute to society in a meaningful way? And I promise you that when you hire people who are system impacted, you're gonna get some of the best employees ever, and they're gonna show up in a way that's gonna make other employees have to step their game up. And so the more that we are doing that, the more that we're normalizing that these are people who had a moment in their life where they were at their lowest point, and that now we can create an opportunity for them to engage in a way that contributes a great deal to society, I think is groundbreaking and it'll change the world. And ARC, Anti-Recidivism Coalition, is currently being led by a guy named Sam Lewis who spent 24 years in prison, and now he's running an organization that has a Big staff, two offices, one in LA, one in Sacramento, and they're just doing incredible work over there.

My last two questions, they're both philosophical. First, at several points in your book, you talk about the ethical code of not ratting on other people. Do you view that in pragmatic terms, something you think is just the right way to be? Is it a view you've moved away from? Did having other people rat on you change your view at all? Where do you stand on that ethical code right now?

I get asked that question often, and I grew up— in the old street code, you know, where if you are agreeing to participate in this culture, you're agreeing to all the consequences that come with it. And that means that if you and I commit a crime together and I get caught, then I have, within that code, to keep my mouth shut. Like, me telling on you or giving you up, that violates that code. And that's just a principle thing. And as a man, Like, I still stand by that principle. Like, I'm not going to do anything that I can't handle the consequences of, and I'm not going to give somebody up to lessen the burden of those consequences when I agree to this culture. I think what people often miss when it comes to the no snitching code is they try to apply that to citizens, and it doesn't apply there. You know, if somebody breaks in your car and you're a working citizen and you report that to the police, that's not snitching. That's making sure that you get your insurance paid as a citizen who pays taxes and that you're provided with the services of the officers. Fortunately for me, I don't live in the street code anymore, and I don't live in that culture, so there'll never be a circumstance where I have to put that theory to test again in my personal life. But, you know, I prefer people don't engage in that culture at all. But I always tell the young guys that I mentor, you know, if you're going to make that decision to participate in this culture, then you have to be prepared to deal with all the consequences that come with that.

Final question: is it worse to do injustice or to have injustice done to you?

Is it worth to do injustice? I think it's worse to do injustice. I mean, it's unfortunate when you're a victim of injustice, but to consciously be unjust toward other human beings, I think that's, you know, far worse than what the, you know, what they end up experiencing as a result of your injustice. So if you have a choice to be just, I always would choose that over being unjust.

Chaka Senghor, thank you very much. And again, for our listeners, I very much recommend Chaka's book, Righting My Wrongs: Life, Death, and Redemption in an American Prison. Thank you.

Thank you so much for having me.

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