Joseph Johnson grew up in church, got good grades in school, and seemed on track to become a college graduate and a successful professional. But he wasn't willing to give up his secret "thug life" and the street cred that seemed to authenticate him as a young Black man... When a confrontation spins out of control, Joseph finds himself in prison for attempted murder. His family is shattered by grief, his future is drained of hope. Is redemption really possible? ***** Redemption Story is a work of fiction. If my characters and situations resemble persons and events in real life, it is purely coincidental. But it is no surprise either. It is not my story alone. It is a composite of the lives of many incarcerated men: their pasts, their presents, and possibly their futures. Young men and women growing up in tough urban neighborhoods will identify with, or at least recognize, many of my inmate characters. Most urban families have at least one relative or family friend who is incarcerated, often for very good reason. But sometimes that incarceration is an overreaction, a punishment that does not fit the crime... and sometimes that incarceration is a complete mistake. A mistake as simple as the ethnocentrism that leads a victim to confidently identify someone as the perpetrator even though that someone and the real perpetrator only share the most general racial phenotype. When the real perp and the person convicted are placed side by side, it is difficult to imagine how such a mistake could have happened. These are only two of many ways prisons fill with minorities who either ought to be somewhere else, or who ought not be there at all. But those mistakes are in the past. The plight of prisoners in the State of California faces us in the present. Redemption Story shows how you can find and help those inmates who are ready to grow. Redemption Story looks to their futures as well. Sadly, the time horizon of many inmates, and many who try to help them, is pitifully limited. Futures are seen clearly only as far as the next specific milestone: earning a GED, learning a trade, preparing for a parole hearing. After that, the vision for their futures either becomes rosy and fuzzy and difficult to believe (especially for the inmate), or it simply... ceases. Vanishes. As if we cannot imagine a tangible and productive future for an inmate, whether they are released or remain inmates indefinitely. Redemption Story develops a vividly detailed vision for the future of just one character, but it does so in a way that will stretch and clarify the vision - and fuel the hope - of all who read it, inmates and their friends, families, and advocates alike. - Paul Pommells "Paul Pommells' book is engaging and riveting. This is a masterfully-written account of life in prison and the road to rehabilitation." - Marvin Avila, Ed.D. "Author Paul Pommells portrays vividly and realistically the common ethnic person caught up in a drop-out society. Despite the darkness of the prison system, Inmate Joseph realizes he has choices. This book of transformation is a must-read for we who choose to make a difference for a better world." - Sister Mary Sean Hodges, O.P. "Redemption Story reveals the evolution I have personally witnessed in the lives of thousands of prisoners. From the "prison mentality" to the Prison Release Gate and beyond, the main character, Joseph, consistently makes the daily choices that ultimately break dysfunctional cycles. As the book states, this transformation leads to the design of noble traditions that endure. Redemption Story puts into words the vision I have for effective corrections: Academy-like education and peer-facilitated study with the essential component of permitting those living lives of service to do so in their home towns and communities. Together we can pave the way for the emerging reality and Paul Pommells provides the story to take us there." - Mara Leigh Taylor, Founder & Director of GOGI
About the Author: I was born into a Belizean family in the Jefferson Park community of Los Angeles. Toggling between the Catholic fold and the Crenshaw District, by the time I got to high school I deeply struggled with who I was, what I valued, where I belonged. I earned good grades and did well in sports, but didn't feel like I belonged with the privileged mostly-white kids at my all-boys Catholic school. After two years I transferred to a medical magnet school in Watts, and finished my senior year at Crenshaw High. After graduation, an instinct told me to get out of South LA. I sensed a danger I couldn't put into words. I knew I had fallen into the inner-city-male stereotype and knew where that might lead me. Since I did not know how to craft a healthier identity, I enlisted in the Marines. But I had unrealistic expectations: after boot camp I thought everything should have been easier than it was. Instead of developing genuine mental toughness that would have seen me through, I took the easy way out: I quit. Next I enrolled at West LA Community College. I did well, but the fast-paced partying atmosphere of West LA attracted me. In order to keep up with it, I started selling marijuana to other college kids and occasionally loaned drugs to their drug dealers. I also held a part-time job at a Pizza Hut on Leimert Ave. I was dabbling naively in crime, believing that I had the situation under control. I thought selling a so-called "soft drug" like marijuana would limiting my risk of getting caught up in that life. I was wrong. It is incredibly easy for events to slip out of control, especially if you have a weapon and any of the people involved are acting under the influence of drugs. I wound up in prison for two attempted murders, and a murder I did not commit but for which I bear very real responsibility. My arrest, trial, and conviction in 1993 took a huge toll on my family. My mother was crushed. No one in my church and community saw it coming. I was in shock too. I had never even been to jail before. Facing three life sentences, I lost my mind. In the winter of 2000 after almost seven years in prison, God woke me up. I realized that if I was to have any hope, I needed to go back to being the real me: not the promising but naive college student, not the Marine recruit with potential, certainly not the faux-gangsta drug dealer, but the person God intended me to become. That was the beginning of my path of discovery and healing. This book explores that path.