All posts by Keith Erickson

Scarred But Sturdy

I often think of myself as a sturdy, ancient oak, tucked away in the still quiet of the forest.  I have many scars, but I believe each and every one is a part of the necessary affliction to be overcome and has gotten me to where I am today.  Each scar, like the markings of an oak tree, is a measure of my inner growth displayed for the world to see.

Today, I did something I have never done.  I stood naked from the waist up in front of the worn and cracked wall mirror of my prison cell.  My reflection stared back as if to say, “I’ve waited for you to notice me for quite some time now, my friend.”  All I could do was stare back.  I was covered from neck to feet in prison tattoos, the fleshly billboard of places I’ve been and all the moments I wanted to capture beneath my skin through self-expression.  My reflection resembled so many other men locked away within these cold walls.  But, I knew the truth as I stood staring; I’d been hiding behind so many scars for so long, and I wanted to finally crawl out from behind them, once and for all.

I lifted my arms to see more and explored the ink of my torso.  My fingers traced the now mature scars where breathing tubes had once been inserted into my chest, and I went immediately back to my childhood where I’d suffered abuse at the hands of a violent stepfather who nearly took my life at the age of eleven.  I stood for a moment, reliving what it felt like to struggle for my last breath because my lungs had been collapsed by a vicious monster who had married my mother and beaten me often as a child.  He was an addict who took his pain and suffering out on my brother and mother as well, and he left a scar I could not cover with a simple tattoo, no matter how hard I tried.

Reality began to set in, and I was back in the confines of my 13×13-foot man-made cage, realizing thirty-one years have gone by.  I was incarcerated most of my life, as a juvenile and adult, and “time” has started to wear on me.  I may not have been in this very cell, but I have been in countless replicas where I’ve awakened each morning for three decades – cold concrete walls that leak when it rains, and a mattress as worn as the folded up blanket at the end of my bed.  I am getting older, undeniably. 

Through it all, shines the illuminating shimmer of light from the window in the back of my cell, light that reflects on what I hold dearest, the faces of my beautiful wife and daughters taped to my wall.  Their faces, despite all that I have gone through, remind me that I am still alive in spite of my scars.  There is, in fact, life outside these walls, and I will see it again.  

As I stood continuing to stare at my bare torso in the reflection, I thought, “I’ve come so far, and each scar has taught me a lesson, inching me closer and closer to freedom.”  I’d run from many of my scars most of my life, and in that moment I was willing to face them.  I stepped closer, lifting both my hands to my face as the tears began to fall.  It was the first time in a long time I could remember actually crying.  In that moment, I felt it.  I felt it hard.  The courage began to swell up inside my chest, my hands covered in the tears that fell effortlessly, and the voice inside spoke to me.

“Keith, you truly are like that of an oak tree, and your life is measured by the scars you have been running from for so long.  You must stop and face them.  Learn how to embrace them if you are ever going to reach your greatest potential because that, Keith, is where you will heal the most.”

My knees began to lower to the cold concrete floor as the words echoed over and over again in my mind. I started to understand just what my purpose had been all these years, seeing through the tattoos that I’d hidden behind for so long, and it was what every human is brought into this world for – to live; to love and be loved; to learn and fail when necessary in order to learn from mistakes; and forgive ourselves as much as we are willing to forgive others.  I sat kneeling and broken, yet I could not feel more alive, stronger than I had ever been.  I wiped away the tears, stood up in my reflection, and felt it.  I felt like that of an oak in the forest, upright and standing tall for the world to see.  These scars are mine, as yours are to you, but we are all like trees in the forest; we may become scarred, but growth is inevitable.  Our measurement is not going to be by what caused our afflictions, but how we endure them, refusing to be torn down.

Push through whatever has or continues to cause you pain.  You will find your way, it will come.  Your reflection, when faced, will lead the way, just be ever willing to look closely in the mirror and see that tree in the forest.  

ABOUT THE WRITER. Keith is a writer and artist, among his many other talents, and a frequent WITS contributor. He is also a tireless positive support in his community and consistently encourages and uplifts those around him.

Keith is currently working on two book projects and also acted as the Chief Editor of the 4Paws Newsletter. He has earned an Associates Degree in Behavioral Science and was the illustrator of the GOGI Life Tools Coloring Book. Keith works during the day and facilitates programs in the evenings. He also hopes to have access to pursuing his Bachelor’s degree in the future.  

To hear more of Keith’s story in his words, you can hear him on the Prison POD podcast.

Keith Erickson can be contacted at:
Keith Erickson #E-74907
Pleasant Valley State Prison
D-5-225
Low
P.O. Box 8500
Coalinga, CA 93210

Keith can also be reached through GettingOut.com

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Loving Delta

Throughout much of my life I struggled with the concept of what “love” is.  From an early age the very people that were supposed to love and protect me harmed me or put themselves ahead of my well being.  To conceal the pain of isolation, I became a master of disguise, wearing masks to fit in with others. Sadly, I found my place drowning in an abyss of other broken souls much like myself… after thirty-five years of incarceration, I had forgotten what love actually was.  I managed to survive a life of imprisonment by not feeling my connection to the humanity around me.

Then the prison I am housed at announced they would be bringing a Service Dog Training Program to the facility.  I hadn’t seen nor touched a dog in over two decades, nor had I ever had a dog of my own growing up, though I envied the boys in my neighborhood who did. But, I was excited and wanted to be a part of something that felt outside of prison, something that had nothing to do with the coldness of concrete walls and steel doors.  I simply wanted to feel again after years of hiding behind pain.

With the help of the facility Captain, I was able to name the dog I was assigned, a twelve-week-old yellow labrador retriever.  ‘Delta’ seemed fitting, and shortly after he would become the face of the dog program here on D-facility.  The moment I held him in my arms I began to feel things I had been longing to feel but could not say out loud.  The walls, the very walls that kept me from connecting with others around me, began to crumble.

I sat in my prison cell that first night with tears streaming down my face.  Here I was, convicted of first degree murder for taking the life of another human being, now responsible for the well being of this amazing creature.  I was instantly humbled by the experience and what was to come in the three years that followed.

Delta became one of the top Warrior Support Dogs in the program, and through our time together he taught me how to love and be loved.  The men who took this journey alongside me, raising dogs of their own to be of service to veterans and first responders in the community suffering from PTSD, allowed me to see a side of them that most men continue to hide within these walls.  In the end, I gained a family of men that showed their love, kindness, trust, and patience with me as their team leader, as well as their commitment to love their dogs.

My fondest memories, despite being bittersweet, were of the dogs going out into the community following graduation.  Together, we watched like proud parents as a dog would graduate and together we hugged and cried, no longer able to hide our emotions from one another.  If that is not love, love for self and another human being, I don’t think I will ever experience it while incarcerated.  

Delta now resides with a wonderful service vet couple where he has lived since graduating a year and a half ago.  I still carry with me all the things he taught me, most of all how to love others with acts of kindness, rather than deprive myself of the beautiful opportunities that come with being a part of something remarkable in another person’s life.  My greatest reward is that I can actually feel again… and I’m not afraid to do so. 


ABOUT THE WRITER. Keith is an amazing writer as well as artist, and his has been a frequent contributor since he started writing for WITS. He also placed third in our recent writing contest.

Keith does much more than write though. He is tireless in his drive to support other individuals on their path to reform. He consistantly supports others, encouraging and uplifting everyone around him. He is currently working on a book project with the intention to support troubled youth. He has inspired another yard at his facility to write. He is facilitating and helping to organize a presentation at his facility. And this is just to name a few things he is busy with.

Keith Erickson has acted as the Chief Editor of the 4Paws Newsletter, he has earned an Associates Degree in Behavioral Science, and was also the illustrator of the GOGI Life Tools Coloring Book. Keith works during the day and facilitates programs in the evenings. He also hopes to have access to pursuing his Bachelor’s degree in the future.   Finally, he has also generiously donated his third prize to supporting youth.

To hear more of Keith’s story in his words, listen to his Prison POD podcast.

Keith Erickson can be contacted at:
Keith Erickson #E-74907
Pleasant Valley State Prison
D-5-225
Low
P.O. Box 8500
Coalinga, CA 93210

Keith can also be reached through GettingOut.com

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The Echoes Of Your Life, My Friend

Last night I called my wife, something I do every night, and we went through our extensive prayer list together. Five minutes after we hung up, I was alarmed to see a message left from her on the prison tablet asking me to ‘call home again’…  

I braced myself for the phone call.  

“Please sit down, Keith.”  Her next words pierced right through me as she read the Instagram post announcing the loss of David Inocencio, founder of The Beat Within. My heart tightened and the tears began to form.  Our last telephone conversation had been just weeks prior.  I had not spoken with David much this year, unaware he had been battling cancer, and hearing his voice was always uplifting.  He described to me where he was when we spoke that day, sitting on his patio, his soulmate Lisa was cooking him breakfast, and the sunshine was especially beautiful that day. I never imagined it would be the last time we would talk, yet I look back now at that conversation and see it for what it may have been.

David, a man that came into my life as a stranger nearly ten years ago, became more than just a mentor to me during a time of soul searching and longing to be more than what I had been much of my life; he became like a brother to me, someone I admired for all he was in the community and the world around him. I wrote a letter to The Beat Within ten years ago after reading an issue, not expecting much in return.  I merely wanted to give them a “shout out” for the outstanding work they do throughout California. David replied to my letter with personal recognition and praise for the work that I had shared with him regarding my own struggles and successes while incarcerated. I was touched by the fact that this man took the time to read my story, give me feedback and encouragement, and more importantly, see me as a human being who had experienced a tough life, rather than just someone who had lived life committing crimes and making poor choices.

I began sharing more of my story with David all those years ago, dedicating time and effort into providing artwork to TBW, and before long I became a recognized feature amongst the teens who would flip through the pages.  David would tell me how they would ask about me when he would visit the juvenile facilities, wanting to know when I was going to do another drawing.  It made me feel like what I was doing was bigger than just the time and effort of me putting my talents on paper. 

“Keith,” he said, “your artwork inspires these kids to sit down and see possibilities they never considered before.” 

I never saw the significance in what my art was doing until he said those words.  I wanted to give others something from my heart, yet I was missing the bigger picture all along.  David, my brother and friend, taught me how to see the bigger picture. I spent years of my life incarcerated in the local juvenile hall, and eventually the California Youth Authority at the age of fifteen.  I could relate to the teens that would write their stories, hopes and dreams in the pages of TBW publications. These young people, in every sense, were just like me and needed to be heard.  David, with no hesitation whatsoever, gave them a voice.

“Thank you for everything that you have done all of these years, Keith,” he said that last morning we talked.  “I love you my brother, and I am so happy that I got to hear your voice.”

Perhaps he knew something I didn’t know that day and wanted me to always know how much he loved and appreciated me. Despite all of our initial conversations, that one conversation felt more heartfelt and sentimentally sound than any other.  David always talked of me coming home one day, attending TBW workshops with him and Lisa, and I promised him we would have a nice barbecue with his family and mine once I earned the freedom that I’ve been fighting so hard for. 

“David,” I told him that morning, “you, too, have been a great part of my journey, and I love you and appreciate all the confidence you have in me.” 

There is never enough time to say goodbye, and even had I known it would be our last conversation, I would have never said goodbye to a man that will forever be present in my life, despite his passing. I grew to love this man with the better parts of me that he helped bring out over the years.

Earlier this year I was referred back to the courts for ‘resentencing consideration’ based on my accomplishments and positive changes to my life; David wrote a letter of support to the judge who will be making the final decision on my case(s) on any given date. I do not know what the outcome will be; however, I do know that even in his final days he displayed yet another act of compassion for me, and I will forever be grateful. I will walk out of these gates one day soon, I believe this wholeheartedly; and in spirit, the man that gave me a voice all of those years ago, as he has thousands of others in his lifetime, will be watching over me as I embrace my freedom for the first time in over three decades. Until then, I will continue to be the man David taught me to be through his own life’s legacy. 

My brother, my friend, I love you and will miss you…

For anyone who reads this – sometimes we don’t see the importance of others who are placed into our lives until they are no longer here.  Please take a moment to reach out to those you love dearly, let them know their presence in your life is more valuable than words can express… – Keith


ABOUT THE WRITER. Keith is fairly new to WITS, but it didn’t take me long to realize, after working with him on a couple projects, that I simply can’t keep up with him. He is a change maker.

If his interaction with David Inocencio had something to do with creating that spark, David’s life will echo far beyond even his own reach in all those he touched who will carry on his spirit.

Keith Erickson is a writer, an artist, and a trail blazer, organizing and leading positive endeavors and initiatives. Keith has acted as the Chief Editor of the 4Paws Newsletter, he has earned an Associates Degree in Behavioral Science, and was also the illustrator of the GOGI Life Tools Coloring Book. Keith stays busy working during the day and facilitating programs in the evenings. He also hopes to have access to pursuing his Bachelor’s degree in the future.  
To hear more of Keith’s story in his words, listen to his Prison POD podcast.

Keith Erickson can be contacted at:
Keith Erickson #E-74907
Pleasant Valley State Prison
D-5-225
Low
P.O. Box 8500
Coalinga, CA 93210
Keith can also be reached through GettingOut.com

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Calling On Guest Speakers

Pleasant Valley State Prison – Coalinga California

I am a resident of Pleasant Valley State Prison, and we are hosting an event at the institution. We are in dire need of guest speakers who are willing to volunteer their time and attend and share their personal insight and experience in the following areas:

Violence Awareness. Someone personally impacted by violence or works with those who have suffered violence.

Domestic Violence. Someone personally impacted by domestic violence or works with those who have suffered domestic violence.

Victims Impact. Someone who has lost a loved one at the hands of either gun violence or domestic violence, who is now advocating for and promoting nonviolence.

Suicide Awareness. Someone who can share personal experience concerning, knowledge of or insight into suicide.

We hope to host this event in September, however, the process of getting guests cleared to enter the prison is something that we need to address as soon as possible. If you are in the California area or know of anyone in this location, please reach out and help us make this happen. The men at Pleasant Valley State Prison D-Facility have been on a mission to bring more awareness, healing, and intervention/prevention to these very real issues… WE NEED YOU!

TO RESPOND TO KEITH, you can message WITS through the comments or the CONTACT US page, any messages will be forwarded to him. If you would like him to call you to discuss, please send me your phone number, as well as a good time for him to reach you and what time zone you are in.

You can also directly reach Keith at:
Keith Erickson #E-74907
Pleasant Valley State Prison
D-5-225
Low
P.O. Box 8500
Coalinga, CA 93210
Keith can also be reached through GettingOut.com

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Behind Prison Walls

NOTE TO READERS. I count myself fortunate – blessed – to have the opportunity to hear from writers. This essay was not originally intended as a submission, but was taken from a message, Keith reaching out to WITS looking for resources for the people who live around him. This letter led to a conversation – which I then started recording, with Keith’s permission.

A Conversation With Keith Erickson.

I am an ex prison gang member.  I’m proud to say I am a total contradiction of who I once was, or thought I was, and have worked hard the past twelve years to change my life completely.  As a result God has blessed me with so much.

I’ve been incarcerated this term since July, 1994. I was arrested and convicted along with my biological mother at the age of twenty-two for shooting and killing my mother’s then abusive boyfriend at the urging of my mother.  We were both arrested, and I was later sentenced to life…  Unfortunately, I was also sentenced under the three strikes law, and in the years following, I accumulated additional three strike cases while in prison.

That was then.  Today, I am ever-determined to get more tools and resources brought to this prison, and the administration has been very supportive in allowing me to do that.  I run numerous programs here, including the Youth Adult Awareness Program where local high-schools bring in at-risk youth for mentoring and to hear our personal stories. This is not a scared-straight program, and we feel its success comes from actually sitting and listening to our teens rather than trying to tell them what to do and not to do. 

I run other groups as well – Narcotics Anonymous, Alcoholics Anonymous, Criminals & Gangs Anonymous, the Peer Mentorship Program, Parenting Classes in both English and Spanish, Domestic Violence Classes.  I ran the New Life Canine Dog Program for three years before they lost the funding to continue.  We raised and trained canines, Labradors and Retrievers, to be certified service dogs in the community where they would be gifted to veterans and first responders who were suffering PTSD.  The experience was a blessing and taught me more about myself than any other group/program ever could.  They plan on rebooting another Rescue/Shelter Dog program in October, which I will again oversee.  Working with canines is an awesome experience, and I would not pass this opportunity up for anything. 

This year alone we have also done fundraisers for children with autism, Valley Children’s Hospital, and a local horse program where we donated canvas paintings, painted baseball caps, and other hobby crafts to these outside nonprofits. The opportunities to do selfless things are countless, you just gotta want to do them and that’s what we do.  I spent so much of my life carrying pain with me, early trauma, and that pain influenced my life in a tremendous way…  

My biological parents divorced when I was three, and my mother eventually remarried my stepfather when I was five.  My stepfather was an alcoholic turned heroin addict.  He would beat on my mother, brother and I, and at the age of eleven he almost killed me with his bare hands. I suffered collapsed lungs, broken ribs, and a fractured skull. He was arrested and later sent to prison for what he did to me, and I was removed from the care of my mother and placed into the foster care system by CPS.  I spent years running away from dozens of foster homes, group homes, boys ranches, in and out of juvenile hall, and eventually sent to the California Youth Authority at the age of fifteen, housed amongst other teens and men up to the age of twenty five.  Needless to say, I was exposed to the gang subculture  and greater levels of violence.

At the age of eighteen I was well on my way to the Department Of Corrections and gravitated to everything I had in the youth authority as a means of survival.  I was a documented gang member and housed in the SHU (Segregated Housing Unit) before I was twenty-five. The night my mother called me and pleaded with me to get rid of her boyfriend, I knew right from wrong and still made the decision to carry out her wishes. I spent so much of my life resenting my mother for putting my brother and I into harm’s way since childhood, and yet I could not say no to her the night she put the gun into my hand as I walked into his bedroom where her then boyfriend lay passed out in his bed. 

So you see, I have lived a very checkered life, and I know what it means to suffer.  But, I also know that the human spirit is a lot stronger than we often accredit ourselves for.  “I” am a walking testimony to that…

ABOUT THE WRITER. Clearly, I have a lot more to learn about Keith Erickson. He is a writer, an artist, and a trail blazer, organizing and leading positive endeavors and initiatives. Keith has acted as the Chief Editor of the 4Paws Newsletter, he has earned an Associates Degree in Behavioral Science, and was also the illustrator of the GOGI Life Tools Coloring Book. Keith stays busy working during the day and facilitating programs in the evenings. He also hopes to have access to pursuing his Bachelor’s degree in the future.  

Keith Erickson can be contacted at:
Keith Erickson #E-74907
Pleasant Valley State Prison
D-5-225
Low
P.O. Box 8500
Coalinga, CA 93210
Keith can also be reached through GettingOut.com

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