Freedom…the thing I’ve yearned for…prayed for…and that has consumed my being for the past 30-something years of incarceration…was briefly within my grasp. No longer was it just a yearning – an elusive prayer. Rather than a faint hope, it was so close, so possible it felt like reality.
I saw myself as a free man as I visualized my first day of freedom and saw the smiles on my two kids’ faces as I got off the plane at Dulles airport. I felt their hugs engulf me in their love. I heard my kids screaming “Dad!” in sheer joy. I smelled the scented oil worn by women outside of prison.
All of my senses were engaged, visualizing a new reality I was sure to come.
And then, just like that, with one phone call, it was gone. Prison is once again the only home I know. Freedom had somehow slipped from my grasp.
These past two and a half years were an emotional roller coaster for me as I wrestled with the court system in a quest to gain my freedom. First, I had to match with a lawyer who would file my IRAA petition, then develop a personal statement that explained who I was in the past and who I am today to the judge.
It was a wrenching process, bringing up so many buried emotions. I felt ashamed, embarrassed and distraught. My past consisted of a lot of trauma, violence and abuse. But I have developed resilience over the years, and I emerged healthier and stronger.
Then, there was the agonizing wait for the court to assign a hearing date and for that date to come. The hearing was postponed from October to December to March. Afterward, when the day came at last, I I felt awash with relief, with everyone saying how well they thought it went. (I thought so too!) I’d be home soon, they all said. I began to prepare for release.
Boy was I wrong. I waited eight arduous, agonizing months of waiting for the order to go home, with questions coming every day from friends on the phone, asking “What’s taking them so long?” I had no answers. I spent many sleepless nights, and tried to keep my daughter from calling the court to see why they were “taking so long to free my father.” Who knew if the judge would object and retaliate in some way? Meanwhile, my family and friends were buying clothes and other essentials for me.
Finally, the decision came. I was denied!
The judge’s reasoning: My “assaultive” behavior of the past, she said, still made me a threat to society at this time. Even though I haven’t had an incident report in more than 10 years and have taken all types of rehabilitation programs. The prosecutor even recommended my release: “After his more than two and a half decades in prison, I don’t believe that further incarceration serves a worthwhile social purpose. Therefore, I am in support of Mr. Daniels’ early release. In my view, he deserves a chance to live outside of prison as an adult.”
And still, I was denied.
How would you feel if you knew you’d changed and was ready for society and your opportunity was taken away? What types of thoughts and sentiments would you have about the “justice” system? Maybe you’d feel wronged. Maybe you’d feel mad, sad, heartbroken. I was – am – all of those emotions. But in the end, I also knew that it wasn’t just the courts or the amorphous “system” that put me in this position. It was me. I stole someone’s life. I committed an act that deeply hurt many others. And I must pay the price for as long as I have to.
For many of us, this is a hard pill to swallow. It’s hard to look at yourself in the mirror and say, “I’m responsible for what happened to me.” But it’s something we must do to change and move forward in life. No more excuses.
Don’t get me wrong…There is much to rant about. I was very young at the time and didn’t yet have the strength of character I have today. I didn’t know who I was as a person, or that I had options. I could also rant about being warehoused in a high-security federal prison that does not prioritize rehabilitation. But what good does ranting do? Plus, I am now a mature man who knows what type of influence I can have on my younger peers. I must send a broader, more profound message to them to the youth I hope to mentor in the future: Always take responsibility for your actions! With every action, there is a reaction, and with every reaction there is a price to pay.
I know that there are plenty of people who are walking the path I once tread and I want to help them find their exit route now, before the system dictates it for them. And unfortunately, people are often defined/identified by their worst mistakes. A person who commits a robbery becomes a robber forever. In society’s eyes, they become their act. This is what More Than Our Crimes is all about – to help us, and society, overcome these stigmas. I am more than my crime! Allow me to demonstrate that.
My past will always be a part of me and I can’t run from it. It’s the invisible weight chained to my ankle, of which I will always be aware. But I will not allow that to limit what I can do in the future. I am more than my crime.
I am Angelo Daniels, a 49-year-old man who today is honest, compassionate and humble, as well as a loving father, a supportive sibling, a loyal friend and a dedicated mentor. When the court finally sees fit to release me, I will dedicate my life to being the best human being I can be.
