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?
The new Small Group Edition offers discussion questions at the end of every chapter, while retaining the Book Club Questions appendix as well. While enjoying the unfolding tale of Redemption Story itself, readers and leaders can now explore its themes and insights more deeply and personally, chapter by chapter.
"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 Church and the Crenshaw District, by the time I got to high school I was deeply struggling 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 other 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. 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. My book, Redemption Story, explores that path.