Transcript
Vic Chopra (0:00)
This program contains mature language and themes that may not be suitable for all listeners. Discretion is advised. Welcome to Concrete, the podcast coming to you from the Washington State Penitentiary in Walla Walla, Washington. I'm Vic Chopra, co founder of Unincarcerated Productions and your guide on this journey. We're opening the gate and taking listeners inside the penitentiary walls, which were first built all the way back in 1886, three years before Washington was even a state. Because of its nearly 150 year history, Washington state Penitentiary has earned a reputation for being dangerous and violent, most likely due to a very famous experiment in the 1970s where power was handed over to the prisoners for self governance. It was during this time that the prison earned the name Concrete Mama. When a book by the same name was published documenting life inside during this era, we wanted to pick up where the book left off, bringing listeners inside and telling the stories of what life is like now. I was incarcerated at this institution for five years and was released in 2018. You know, I turned what many believe is the worst thing that could ever happen to you into the best thing that could happen. I got sober and rebuilt myself mentally, physically and spiritually. And I now go back into this place where I did my healing to work with the guys inside. You know, it's important to me to not only share my story of transformation, to inspire my incarcerated brothers and show them that they can do the same thing, but to also come back and make it known that they are not forgotten. We start in our premiere episode with the relationships we form while doing time and the pain and loss we feel when they end. Over the five years I was incarcerated, I experienced the sting of losing deep, meaningful relationships over and over again as my friends got released and I stayed behind to grieve their physical presence in my life right now. Our other three hosts who are currently incarcerated at the penitentiary, Demar, Red and Cambo, are experiencing the loss of our fourth Concrete Mama host, Anthony, who was released over the summer on Clemency. More on Anthony later. But now let's hear from Demar.
Demar Nelson (2:28)
Thanks, Vic. This is Damar Nelson, one of your hosts on this journey through the world of Concrete Mama. You may be experiencing heaviness in your own life right now, or grief and loss, or maybe it's feeling overwhelmed with the demands from the world, which is constantly changing. I know we all experience that. I think we all know what that feels like, what it means to carry that. You know, things can feel very chaotic for everyone. It feels like you're constantly, you know, on the Verge of everything just falling apart. And whether you're out there in the free world or sitting listening to this in the cell or on the tier, I can relate to that. Just like the world is full of sudden changes, so is prison. And learning to adjust to changes is often difficult for all of us. I thought this would be a great opportunity to share the story of me and my brother Anthony. You know, our friendship was the anchor that held a lot of stuff together for us While we were both in here for years. We formed a bond as brothers that was really unbreakable. What's crazy is I think people on the outs have some misconceptions about the relationships that people form while doing prison time. Prison isn't just about scary people walking around, waiting to get into fights and, you know, get into violence. That's not what it's all about. People create solid, meaningful relationships behind these walls. We support each other through the trauma of doing time. And Anthony, you know, he was my brother and myself. You know, one of the things that really stood out to me when I first met Anthony was how he treated people. You know, I often watch how other people deal with other people and interactions. That's really huge for me because a lot of people in prison don't know what it means to value, you know, respect in relationships. And Anthony treated everybody like he seen them. You know, it was very respectful. You know, he had a light about him, an energy about it. Also his drive, that's something that we share. Anthony had a drive to grow, to learn, to do better. And on my path to doing better and growing and learning, I was like, man, this is somebody I can grow with. And also my trust. You know, often in prison, you know, it's hard to trust people, Especially when you're in a position to actually grow and make changes, or you're in a position with administration where you're doing things and they're looking for someone you can trust. I was able to trust Anthony, and honestly, since he's been gone and he's not my celly anymore, I've been struggling to actually find a celly that I can trust that won't put me in compromising situations that can ruin my opportunities. And he had his own identity. You know, Anthony was real unique in the way that he identified with people himself. He just had his own autonomy. You know, he was real independent, you know, just his own uniqueness. I liked that about him. It made me respect him. Because in prison, a lot of people are afraid to be themselves. That's just something that People deal with in here. However, you know, Anthony was released a few months ago, and with all the months of preparing for it, I still wasn't prepared for the reality of my brother's absence. So I recorded my thoughts on the first day without him. I want to share those with you now. My boy. D, man, you gone, Brody? Hey, man, I just got back from work. You know, it was. It was kind of different today, you know, just in terms of you. You being gone, man. You know, it's about 302 now, you know, just getting in. I'm in the cell right now, man. Just got in, man. Walked in, you know, Josh drove me back from work, you know, and you could. It was interesting, too, bro, because, you know, I could feel that your energy, man, was missing, bro. Me and Daniel went up to the shop, you know, man, rearrange, start cleaning and just doing stuff, man. And you could tell people was, you know, leaning on each other, man, because, you know, you was. You're a great spirit, man. Big spirit, man. Full of love, man. So you can see that everybody's just looking at me. What's up, Nathan? I'm like, what's up, man? You know, they're like, man, how you feel? I'm like, I'm good. So it was a lot of support, you know what I'm saying, on that end. And, you know, Reyes was kind of laid back. Officer Reyes, you know what I'm saying? You know, I told him, I said, you got me now. You know what I'm saying? We. We got each other, man. You know what I'm saying? You're gonna see him out there soon. Hey, it's crazy, because soon as I got back to the cell, I got the pictures of you out front, you know, in front of the prison. In front, man. He was in front, man. You know. You know, you was in it. Now you in front, you outside of it, man. So it's a lot of blessings, man, just thinking about that, you know, just getting a full visual of your journey and miss you, man. You already know what's up. You know, I'm in the room cleaning up right now. You know, I'm saying, I'm about to. You know how I do it. I'm about to turn on these cuts and clean up a little bit and do what we do. We did some IEP stuff today up at work, and then I went in there, I worked out. Then I seen. I was chopping it with red a little bit. And, you know, I'm saying, people. People were really just kind of like, you could see, like, you know, we do this time together, bro, and people kind of like, they lean on one another, man. So the fact that you're gone, I can see that people are like, man, you know, that energy, being able to plug into that individual is tough.
