I’m learning skills that will help me after I leave here.
[This article was originally published at the Prison Journalism Project]
The day I was processed into prison 10 years ago was the lowest point in my life. After setting fire to two houses in a drug-induced psychosis, I had lost everything and fractured all of my relationships. I owed $262,000 in restitution fees. I felt alone, like a waste of life. And I didn’t care if I survived my prison sentence.
Having been through the system before, I already knew what to expect: terrible food, daily power struggles, peer pressure, violence, low-paying jobs, and a chaotic, frenetic, weekslong intake and classification process.
During processing this time around, I regularly watched from my cell as new arrivals filed in behind me, wearing ill-fitting white jumpsuits and carrying their worst mistakes on their shoulders. Many of them overwhelmed staff with urgent needs and questions.
“The nurses don’t have my medication!”
“What’s wrong with the phones?”
“Where are they going to send me?”
“When can my family come visit?”
Staff were impersonal and abrupt in their responses. They had neither the time nor resources to address each query and issue.
Back then, I never imagined that I would help others adjust to prison. But over the decade since I landed here, I became part of my prison system’s welcoming crew. I pull people from their cells for fresh coffee and orientation, where I introduce myself and share ways they can spend their time in prison.
The difference between the level of support people entering Idaho prisons are provided today versus what I received 10 years ago is just one example of how Idaho corrections is trying to change its prison culture.
To power this culture shift, corrections officials are recruiting help from those in custody and on community supervision.
My involvement started in 2024, when I was selected to participate in a 10-week course designed to train individuals in Idaho prisons to become peer mentors. The course was developed by Michael Copenhaver and Chris Shanahan. Copenhaver is out on parole, and Shanahan is currently incarcerated in a community reentry center. Between them, they have more than 50 years of carceral experiences, making the pair well suited to grow and standardize the program across the state.
A peer mentor is a person who uses their lived experience to support and mentor their peers. Those operating in Idaho prisons commit to abiding by facility rules, decreasing divisions among staff and residents, and practicing inclusion and confidentiality.
More than 1,000 Idaho prisoners, or roughly 12% of the state prison population, are now involved in the initiative, according to Copenhaver. The only requirement to join is a desire for personal growth.
The 2024 course was facilitated by other residents who worked beyond their initial training to become certified instructors. It focused on peer advocacy, self-empowerment, the stages of change and motivational interviewing — a collaborative counseling style that helps people identify needed behavioral changes and find the internal motivation to make them a reality.
Participants today advance through the program by achieving certain milestones, like completing and facilitating peer-led workshops, logging service hours around the facility, and serving in various capacities.
After completing training, I was elected to serve as the proposal writer for my mentor group’s steering committee. The five-person committee performs administrative functions for the group. Some of our duties include managing data, developing curricula and forming the partnerships necessary to achieve our strategic goals.
Recently, corrections accountants challenged us to create revenue streams and become more self-sustainable. So we formed an outreach and fundraising subcommittee and started a proposal to develop a worm farm and bring fertilizer to market.
The peer mentor group at my facility goes by the name Pillars as a reminder to our members that we hold one another up to keep the roof from coming down on us all.
Nearly all of our mentors work full-time jobs in addition to volunteering with the group.
Brian Watford works as a reentry specialist in the education building. There, he connects residents preparing for release with health, employment and housing resources, and assists community organizations who visit our prisons to do the same.
“I make 40 cents an hour, but I’m not really in it for the money,” he said. “I just get a great feeling connecting with the men as they come in, and helping those who need it to navigate prison.”
One of the organizations with a part-time presence in our facility has offered him a job upon release, Watford added.
One of my favorite posts is the processing center for all men entering Idaho prisons, so no one has to experience what I went through 10 years ago.
We welcome newcomers in a multipurpose room attached to a foyer that connects two large housing units. I line up by the door with a rotating team of mentors. A fresh pot of coffee brews on the table beside us as the newest arrivals walk in, each one greeted with hearty handshakes. For the next 45 minutes, we deliver a PowerPoint presentation with tips for how they can make the most of their stay.
“I don’t know which prison you’re going to,” I say, pointing to a slide showing pictures of mentor teams at other facilities. “But I do know that these men will be waiting to greet you and support you when you get there.”
In that moment, their anxious faces fill with hope and inspiration. It’s that look that tells me why this program is so important.
My hope is to apply the skills that I’m learning with Pillars in a way that allows me to pay off my restitution when I leave prison. Perhaps one day, I will even return through the employee entrance to continue my work.