See how incarcerated writers are breaking stereotypes and shifting the narrative by subscribing to our weekly newsletter. Republish This Story. This was the second time the IDOC arranged for me to Zoom with an academic audience to share my carceral experiences.
I also spoke about having to reconcile the hideous feeling of having committed arson against my community. Eppink informed me in a visit leading up to the symposium that Josh Tewalt , the director of IDOC, had personally approved us to speak. On top of that, for much of the year leading up to the symposium, I had been writing letters to lawmakers and media and publishing work on my blog that were deeply critical of the situation in Texas.
So he likely knew of my activism. I had no more than a few days to prepare that minute presentation for a wide audience of students, lawyers, judges and advocates. It was unnerving, to say the least, and I unraveled before them, no doubt influenced by the long-lasting effects of solitary. I grasped for words throughout my speech and struggled to suppress my emotions. My face was bruised for several days after, I think from the blood vessels that burst due to my nerves.
She told me she had attended the symposium and that my talk left a lasting impact β one that she wanted me to share with her class. Her message arrived during one of the many weeks I found myself questioning my efforts. For the next five months, Hearn and I communicated through a JPay-email relay.
With my father helping as an intermediary, we exchanged background information and updates. Hearn is from Pocatello, a small city just a few hours east of Boise, which I call home. The university, which was founded in , was also considered one of the most innovative in the world.
