Semantics and Salutations

reflections after a day at San Quentin

I recently had the opportunity to interview an individual, Cuong "Mike" Tran, an incredible artist currently incarcerated, for the B+S with Friends podcast. During our conversation, he mentioned his wish to be referred to as an artist who is incarcerated instead of being titled an incarcerated artist. The distinction called me back to a day, as the mother of a child with diabetes, when I was informed that I should refrain from calling someone a diabetic and instead use the description "person with diabetes."

We are finally reaching a time in history when the descriptors felon, inmate, and prisoner are fading from our vernaculars. According to Akiba Solomon, in his article for The Marshall Project, many argue that "these words narrowly - and permanently - define human beings by their crimes and punishments rather than viewing them as individuals. Furthermore, Solomon describes how seventy-four percent of people in jails have not been convicted of a crime. They may be "inmates" due to their physical location. However, the term is "dangerously imprecise because it is widely perceived as an assignment of guilt."

The term that stands out as incredibly accurate and respectful is "justice-impacted individuals," referenced by The Center for Art and Advocacy. The center is dedicated to removing barriers and empowering artists who have experienced incarceration while recognizing their distinct talents and creative vision.

After spending Wednesday at San Quentin with a group of KALW Uncuffed producers and supporters, the semantics of these descriptions are heavy on my mind. We started early, outside the gates of the Marin County prison, welcomed by Public Information Officer Lutenient Guim'Mara Berry. The prison, built in 1852, currently houses 2700 individuals and has 1700 employees. Once California's only death row prison, the institution is now a level 2 facility. It has been retitled the San Quentin Rehabilitation Center. Yet, despite the new focus, the buildings still have the stereotypical prison movie set aesthetic of a barbaric prison environment with heavy metal doors, peeling painted walls holding coils of barbed wire, and 4x7 cells stacked five floors high.

Once inside, we were greeted by five incarcerated tour guides. We saw the exterior courtyards, infirmary, dining halls, and housing units. Yet, it was our time inside the media center that held my attention. This small space, packed with several computers and recording equipment, is where the Uncuffed episodes are produced by students and mentors in the program. The people in the program have to be cleared, proving they are trustworthy and working toward rehabilitation. Through restorative justice and storytelling, the podcast is their way of giving back while taking back their narrative.

The thought that I always have after leaving these situations, in which I am sharing space with those who are or were incarcerated, is the level of accountability, honesty, and integrity that is exhibited. I suspect that prisons will always exist, yet it is promising to see change happening - especially within an environment like San Quentin, which is continuing to expand its rehabilitative programs. New buildings on the grounds will be opened by March 2026, further reinforcing the range of available rehabilitative programs.

So, I leave you with a thought. On this long, luxurious weekend, take a moment to find gratitude. Then consider that we do not support those who need so much before finding themselves locked up. Especially in this current climate, let's work toward making an effort to care for our people. And let's start by remembering the words we use to describe another. Consider your understanding of those living behind prison walls. And remember that humanity and change can begin with one small action.

Have a great weekend. And thank you to those who have served to protect our country.

-trw