Seeing the good in a long sentence
My mom once said, "At least we know where he is."
Isaac is 10 years younger than me, so taking care of him since he was born put me in a caregiver role. I fed him, clothed him, changed his diapers, and picked him up from school.
This relationship continued to be transactional into adulthood, and as we got older, I didn’t know how to transition into a friend.
I regret not being more interested in his life before he went to prison.
In the first year he was locked up, I was gripped by guilt and confusion. I didn’t even know how I was supposed to feel. Mostly, I felt terrible for him, and for a long time, I blamed myself.
Life before prison
Shortly before my brother was arrested, he lived with my parents and held down a graveyard shift at a warehouse a few cities over. It was the first time he decided to just stay in one place. For many years, my family never knew where he was or what he was doing. He’d call every now and then from a burner phone, and I had to remember to save his newest number each time.
The fact that he had a steady job at the warehouse was a huge improvement. A job with set hours was a big deal for him. My family and I were rooting for him and hoped he would change.
My mom was so proud. She dropped him off at 10 p.m. at the warehouse parking lot and picked him up the next morning. When I asked why she was his driver, she reminded me that his driver’s license expired and he was too paranoid to go to the DMV to get it renewed.
Ah, that’s right. This tendency for my brother to stay away from places like the DMV and the airport (TSA) had become normal. He was paranoid that the authorities would find out about one of his past “activities.” He worried his name was plastered all over the “Do not fly” list or whatever “wanted” list was out there. Because of that, he was fine working at the warehouse as a contractor instead of applying for a full-time role. “Some companies do background checks,” he’d remind me.
It was always the same old story. He lived with intense anxiety that he would get caught and go down for something he had done. In a way, we all did.
Liar, liar
During the times when he was gone, I never knew what he was up to, but I had a general idea. When I asked, he lied constantly. He lied because he didn’t want me to know or maybe he was ashamed.
Other times, he was delusional. He was on drugs for a time in his life and couldn’t decipher between reality and his head. There was a lot of talk about UFOs and government conspiracies. Other times, he called my sister regularly and asked if anyone with a suitcase full of money came by.
Whenever I saw him in person, I never felt like I was getting the real Isaac. I got a kind of half-version, like looking at a partially dirty window—you can see through certain sections while others remained opaque.
I didn’t want to put in the effort to get to know him and be his friend because, to me, it wasn’t worth getting to know someone who prioritized getting high and lying. It annoyed and frustrated me.
Everyone has a story
There are many reasons why Isaac turned out the way he did. He was bullied as a kid, grappling with the embarrassment of having Tourette’s Syndrome and kids making fun of his ticks. After he got his growth spurt, he became the bully.
My brother also grew up in a household of women. My dad was around, but he wasn’t the kind of nurturing father figure. So Isaac took to other role models—his friends and people he knew from the streets. My brother wasn’t in touch with his emotions nor did he feel secure in his manhood.
So many times, I wanted to shake him and scream, “You don’t have to act like you’re a hardass all the time! And stop talking like you grew up on the streets! Just talk like a normal person!”
Getting caught
For so long, I wondered how his situation of always being on the move and never staying in one place was taking a toll on him. I couldn’t imagine living my life so tightly constrained, unable to fly on an airplane or apply for a job at Starbucks (something I asked him to do many times) because I was terrified of getting caught by the police.
At some point, I knew this lifestyle would break his spirit. Or maybe it already did and I didn’t know. It would be a matter of time before he got caught, and I dreaded that day.
After he went to prison, I wondered if his anxiety had subsided. It was over. No more running, lying, or making up excuses. Side note: I visited him a few days ago and asked him this very question. He said yes.
Don’t get me wrong, prison is an awful, god-forsaken place and I’m still angry about his ridiculously long 19-year sentence. But once my initial shock subsided, I felt like the heaviness within myself had lifted too.
I hoped prison would put an end to his bullshit lifestyle and self-destruction. I hoped prison wouldn’t make him worse.
Making sense of what happened
During his first year behind bars, I thought about him a lot. I tried to make sense of what happened.
I talked to my mom and my sister often. We tried to tell ourselves it was fate or for the best or inevitable. Maybe it was his path. My mom brought up a good point, saying, “At least we know where he is”—alluding to the fact that he was pretty much missing from our lives for many years.
I imagined what his life would be like if he didn’t end up in prison.
He would likely be dead.
He would continue mooching off my parents, my sister, and me… stunted and unchanged.
I shudder at these thoughts.
I agree with my mom. At least we know where he is and where he’ll be for many years to come. He’ll stay put and grow and change. The way I see it, there are no more chances and I hope he can start looking within himself.
For now, though, I don’t notice any big strides or changes when I visit Isaac in prison, other than the fact that he is sober.
There isn’t much I can do, except encourage him and continue my argument that prison doesn’t “end your life.” I tell him he has options, he just has to take advantage of what’s around him—classes, programs, and the library. He can also work.
But for now, he disagrees, and that’s okay because he’s not ready.
My silver linings
Making sense of his long prison sentence means I’ve made changes in my own life. Everything he put himself through, and the heartache he caused my parents would not be for nothing.
Besides Stories About My Brother and working on my memoir, I started working with The Prison Journalism Project, volunteering and helping them with their website, plus, contributing to a new column they’ve been generous enough to create just for me.
We finally have a name for the column—Outside/In. It will feature my perspective on what it’s like to have a loved one in prison. (I just got my first article fully approved, so I will definitely share it when it’s published!)
My mom also volunteers her time to help with the jail ministry at her local church. Every Wednesday, she helps organize the office or grade homework assignments from incarcerated people who are involved with the program.
More patience and empathy
Despite wanting to see my brother grow and become more self-aware, I’ve learned to make adjustments around my expectations.
Rather than hounding him about whether he’s read any of the books I sent him, I print out and mail articles I think he’d find interesting. A book is overwhelming if you’re not in that head space, so instead, I share snippets of things from the internet he might be interested in reading—curated by me. I’m his social media.
These include articles from The Prison Journalism Project—their stories are written by incarcerated people from across the U.S.
I also share articles about breathing techniques to reduce anxiety, the recent news about ultra-processed foods (prison snacks at the commissary are terrible!), and the benefits of journaling. I also share transcripts of my favorite podcasts about people in prison, like Earhustle and Uncuffed. He told me he enjoys the articles and wants me to keep sending them. 🙂
I know it’s going to be a slow process—change usually is. But I’m trying to listen more, be patient, and maybe in the process, even learn to be his friend.
Feel free to leave a comment with a link to an article if you have any that would be great to share with my bro.
