Podcast appearances and mentions of Michael G Santos

Michael G. Santos from Prison Professors.com share his story on how he overcame a 45 year prison sentence. Michael's Website https://prisonprofessors.com Follow me on all socials! Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/insidetruecrime/ TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@mattcoxtruecrime Do you want to be a guest? Send me an email here: insidetruecrime@gmail.com Do you want a custom "con man" painting to shown up at your doorstep every month? Subscribe to my Patreon: https: //www.patreon.com/insidetruecrime Do you want a custom painting done by me? Check out my Etsy Store: https://www.etsy.com/shop/coxpopart Listen to my True Crime Podcasts anywhere: https://anchor.fm/mattcox Check out my true crime books! Shark in the Housing Pool: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0851KBYCF Bent: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BV4GC7TM It's Insanity: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08KFYXKK8 Devil Exposed: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08TH1WT5G Devil Exposed (The Abridgment): https://www.amazon.com/dp/1070682438 The Program: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0858W4G3K Dude, Where's My Hand-Grenade? (waiting for KDP approval) Bailout: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/bailout-matthew-cox/1142275402 Checkout my disturbingly twisted satiric novel! Stranger Danger: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BSWQP3WX If you would like to support me directly, I accept donations here: Paypal: https://www.paypal.me/MattCox69 Cashapp: $coxcon69 --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/mattcox/support

Surviving a 45 Year Prison Sentence | Michael G. Santos --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/mattcox/support

Surviving a 45 Year Prison Sentence | Michael G. Santos --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/mattcox/support

Earning Freedom: Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term, by Michael Santos Chapter 15.1 Podcast 148 / 25 minutes   Forming nonprofit, Carole becoming a registered nurse, meeting Greg Reyes, starting to write Undefeated. Epilogue: 2009-2012 Months 260-300          It’s May 20, 2009 and my friend Justin Paperny is being released from prison today.  We work well together and I’ll miss his companionship. For the past several months Justin has been joining me in a quiet room where I write each morning.  One early morning session began with an idea for launching a nonprofit organization.  Undertaking such a task would assist us in raising financial resources that we could rely upon to create products for the purpose of reducing recidivism. Our reasoning is simple, just an assessment of the facts. High-recidivism rates challenge our society in numerous ways, influencing the lives of citizens who don’t grasp how America’s commitment to mass incarceration influences their everyday lives.  Whereas taxpayers want safer communities, better schools, and better health care, those who represent the prison machine want bigger budgets.  That mindset of locking people up and throwing away the key leads to more overtime, more jobs for prison guards, and more expenditures on barbed wire fences, but it doesn’t lead to safer communities.  Rather, it diverts resources that society could use to build better schools, better hospitals, and offer more social services. People who serve time struggle to emerge with the types of values, skills, and resources that translate into success upon release.  Statistics illustrate the problem.  More than one out of every two people who serve time face continuing challenges from the criminal justice system after their release.  That rate of failure leads to enormous costs for taxpayers, depleting public resources that would be better spent on education, health care, or other social services.  I’m convinced that by working together, Justin and I can help reduce costs of recidivism and contribute to safer communities. Doing so will require financial teamwork and money for obvious reasons: neither Justin nor I can work for free.  We have to earn a living, and the nonprofit could raise resources for the purposes of paying us for services we can offer. While Justin served time with me here in Taft it wasn’t possible to advance the idea of launching a nonprofit.  After all, forming a nonprofit organization isn’t easy, especially when the principals are incarcerated.   One lesson I learned over the decades is that all worthwhile goals begin with vision, but achieving them requires persistence and commitment.  With Justin’s release, we can work together to advance this idea of launching a nonprofit.  He will do his part from outside fences, and I’ll do my part from in here.  Although I understand that we may face many challenges along the way, I’m confident that we have a unified vision with regard to what we’re trying to create, and we both will drive forward with persistence and commitment.  This work will further my goal of living a life of relevance while I serve what I expect to be my final three years. Research we’ve done to inquire on what it takes to form a nonprofit organization has given us an understanding of how to proceed.  First of all, we must persuade the Internal Revenue Service that we can provide a benefit to people in society.  If we succeed in that endeavor, the IRS will authorize the organization to raise money from philanthropic organizations, corporations, and individuals who support charitable giving.  Raising financial resources in this dismal economic climate will prove challenging, especially when the people striving to raise the money have felony convictions.  But without valid credentials from the IRS, we may not be able to raise money at all. I understand that some may question why we need to raise financial resources.  We need money because we’re working to build a sustainable operation, one that can help transform troubled lives.  Our target market will include at-risk youth and incarcerated individuals, people who cannot pay for the products we’ll create and distribute. I will undertake the responsibility of showing taxpayers the reasons why it’s in their best interest to support our cause. If we receive authorization from the IRS, we’ll work together to transform at-risk lives, empowering them to live as contributing citizens.  I’m glad Justin joined me in formulating this plan of action.  Now we must execute the plan.   *******   The fall of 2009 passes easily for me here in the Taft federal prison camp.  I’ve now served more than 22 years of my sentence.  Although I don’t know precisely when I’ll walk out, I’m feeling strong, expecting that release will come within the next three years.  I’m truly in the end game, and I’m fully aware of my responsibilities to have a plan in place for my return to society. Carole is working as a licensed vocational nurse in Los Angeles and studying microbiology in preparation to resume nursing school in January.  Nichole, her daughter, is beginning studies at Washington State University, on her way to beginning a career in nursing as well.  As far as I’m concerned, our family has triumphed over prison.  Whereas the design of this system seems uniquely structured to lead individuals and families into perpetuating cycles of failure, the strategic, disciplined plan by which we’ve lived has brought us many blessings and strengthened us.  Continuous progress keeps my spirit strong. Justin’s attorney has assured him that the nonprofit paperwork is in order, and we expect to receive authorization from the IRS to operate The Michael G. Santos Foundation by the end of this year.  Three people have accepted Justin’s invitation to serve as board members of the nonprofit, and although I don’t know those board members, their oversight provides me with a real job: working to write proposals in search of funding. Although Justin has identified many potential philanthropic organizations, and I’m writing grant requests to each of them, The California Wellness Foundation impresses me as being the most promising.  It has a multi-billion dollar endowment that is reserved for programs that enhance public safety. Julio Marcial serves as Justin’s contact at The California Wellness Foundation.  We’ve learned that Julio has a real passion for helping at-risk youth.  He knows that many of them grow up without resources or support systems in place, and few understand what steps they must take to leave the gangs and negative influences behind. As executive director of the Michael G. Santos Foundation, Justin told Julio about my journey.  He made a strong case that we could create a program to show others how to embrace the same types of strategic, deliberate paths that empowered me to tune out the noise of external influences and prepare for success. Julio wants to see more. Despite the boldness of the request, I’m writing a proposal that shows why The California Wellness Foundation should fund The Michael G. Santos Foundation with a $150,000 grant. In this economic environment, resources are scarce and we face a huge challenge because many established nonprofit organizations will compete for the same limited funds.  Still, despite my imprisonment and Justin’s recent release from imprisonment, I’m confident we can craft a winning plan. As someone who has spent more than half of his life in prison, I have strong opinions on why so many people struggle to adjust upon release.  From my perspective, although the system is very good at warehousing human beings, the system fails in preparing offenders for law-abiding, contributing lives.  Instead of encouraging offenders to work toward developing values, skills, and resources that will assist them upon release, it extinguishes hope and strives to suppress the human spirit.  I’m asking the California Wellness Foundation to provide funding so that Justin’s foundation can craft a self-directed program that shows others how to transform their lives regardless of external influences or the noise of imprisonment.  We can make a difference, but doing so will require us to confront headwinds from a system with a strong self-interest in perpetuating failure. ******* I pass through Christmas of 2009, my 23rd holiday season in prison, and into January of 2010, another new year.  I’m still counting, not quite sure how many days of prison I have ahead of me, but I know that I have 8,180 days of imprisonment behind me.  At this stage, prison doesn’t bother me in the least.  I feel focused and driven, eager to seize every opportunity that comes my way. Carole has begun studies that will last throughout the year and conclude with her board-certified credentials as a registered nurse.  It’s a big step for our family, but one that will provide Carole with a more fulfilling career, one that brings her more respect from her peers, colleagues, and community.  I’m so happy for her, so proud of her, and so grateful that I’ve had income opportunities to support her through the journey.  She is my center and I look forward to encouraging her through this year. It isn’t easy to live as the wife of a prisoner.  For Carole, the challenge was particularly difficult because she came into my life when I had more than 15 years of prison behind me and more than a decade to go.  Despite others always questioning her judgment, over the past seven years we’ve worked alongside each other, confronting repeated transfers and interferences from prison administrators to build a life of our own.  Things are much better now, and they promise to improve as we cross through year 2010. Julio Marcial has told Justin that he intends to recommend a $150,000 grant for The Michael G. Santos Foundation.  The premise is quite simple.  Through the proposal I wrote, we argued that the system does not invest resources in preparing individuals for success upon release.  It’s stated focus is to preserve security of the institution, and it doesn’t offer reentry programs until it’s too late, frequently only weeks or months before the scheduled release date.  By that time, the prisoner is lost, without resources or a support network to assist his reentry. With funding, I suggested that I could write a program that would encourage prisoners and at-risk youth to pursue a self-directed path.  I would do so by writing a series of books and workbooks that would show the precise steps I took to educate myself, contribute to society, and build a support network that would assist my transition upon release.  It was what I said I would do very early on in my term, during that uncomfortable transition between my conviction and sentencing, during that time that I fell under the tutelage of Socrates. Recipients of the literature and coursework that I intend to write will see that they have the power within to change their lives.  My job is to inspire hope, and together with Justin’s work, we’ve persuaded Julio to recommend that The California Wellness Foundation fund the vision.  That funding provides resources to pay for my work, enough to ensure that I’ll have an easier transition upon my release.  If all goes well, I’ll have $40,000 in savings to meet all of my financial expenses associated with my reentry, and another $40,000 in savings that I can draw upon to carry me through my first year of liberty.  Through my work, I’ll show other prisoners how to empower themselves in the same measurable ways. ******* It’s Saturday morning, September 11, 2010, and as I’m returning from an early morning run, I approach a new face as I return to the housing unit from the track.  More than 500 people serve time inside these boundaries, and although I don’t communicate or interact with many on a personal level, I recognize the men around me.  This new guy and I don’t exchange words, but the way he nods at me in acknowledgement communicates volumes.  That simple gesture is enough to let me know that he leads, that he’s capable of whatever he sets his mind to do, and that he is someone from whom I can learn. We’re assigned to the same housing unit.  I look forward to introducing myself and I seize the opportunity a few hours later when I see him outside on the track.  He’s taller than I am, with silver hair and olive skin.  I guess that we’re about the same age, but I suspect we’ve had very different experiences.  I know this world and I can help him understand it, but I sense that he’s from a different world that I’d like to learn more about. “Good morning,” I walk towards him.  “Care to join me for a few laps around the track?” He agrees and we begin circling the dirt oval that surrounds ball fields and tennis courts. “Believe me,” I tell him, “it gets easier than it feels right now.” He looks at me, as if trying to figure out what I’m after. “My name is Michael Santos.  I’ve been here for a while and can help you understand what you’re up against if you’re interested in a guide.” “Thanks,” he says.  “I know a little about you because my family has been reading your website.” “That’s good to hear.  I’ve been writing for the web for more than a decade but I’ve never actually seen a real webpage.  I look forward to using the Internet for the first time, but that will have to wait for a couple more years at least.” “How do you publish your stuff online from in here?” “I write everything by hand and send it to my wife.  She coordinates everything for me, typing it and then posting the content on my website.  The work gets me through the time and helps build awareness about this wretched system we’re in.  How long are you going to be with us?” “I’ve got 18 months.” “Well take a breath.  You won’t serve that long.  You’ll receive some good-time credits that will reduce the term by about three months, taking it down to about 15 months.  Depending on your personal circumstances, you may serve the final months of your term in a halfway house or home confinement.” “How do I arrange that?” “You’ll go through some administrative processing over the next couple of weeks.  Don’t push these people, the staff I mean.  Just let it evolve.  There isn’t much of anything you can do to influence events in here.  But if you let things take their course, and you don’t bother the staff with too many requests, you’ll probably be living in a halfway house a year from now.  The secret to serving that time is to make progress every day that you’re here, to work toward something that will improve your life some.” He snarls.  “Like what?  What can a guy do from inside this hellhole?” I laugh.  “It’s not that bad.  Where’re you from?” “Silicon Valley.” “What’re you, a banker or a broker?” From his diction and mannerisms, I know that he’s in here for a white-collar crime, but I don’t know what type of work he did.  He doesn’t strike me as engineer. “I was the CEO of a technology company.” “Which one?” “Brocade Communications.” I stop on the track and look at him.  “You’re Greg Reyes.” He stares back at me and I see his brow wrinkle, a cross between curiosity and ferocity, guarded, as if he doesn’t know what to make of my intentions. “I don’t mean to be intrusive, dude,” I say, “but I’ve admired your courage and strength for many years.  I read the Wall Street Journal’s coverage of your case.  When it reported on your conviction, I told my wife about you and that I hoped to meet you, to learn from you.  In fact, in some twisted way, I feel as if I willed you here.  As the years passed and you didn’t show up, I assumed that you must’ve won on appeal.” Greg relaxes with my explanation of why I’m familiar with his background.  Not only did I read the Forbes profile of him being one of America’s youngest billionaires, but I also watched his stewardship of Brocade, taking it public and steering it to a peak market valuation that once exceeded $20 billion. “I did win on appeal,” he tells me. “The appeals court reversed my conviction because the prosecution lied repeatedly through my first trial.  But the government tried me a second time.  Prosecutors told new lies that brought a second conviction.  I’m on appeal for that case as well.  Rather than wait it out, I turned myself in because I didn’t want to live with the horror of this prison sentence hanging over my head.” The national business news reports on Greg’s case frequently.  Although more than 200 CEOs in Silicon Valley authorized the practice of backdating stock options for rank-and-file employees, no one authorized those practices with any criminal intent or with a goal of self-enrichment.  There isn’t another CEO in America who serves time for the offense, and Greg expresses considerable anger at having his name dragged through the mud because of these accusations. “Why don’t you use this time to write your story,” I suggest.  “Set the record straight, explaining in your own words exactly what happened.  If you don’t do it, the only record out there is going to be the government allegations.” “Writing isn’t my strong suit.” “I’ll help you,” I urge him on.  “This is an important project.  You have to tell your story.  If you can talk about it, I can help you write it in your own words.  It would be a great project, carrying both of us through the next year.” I see him churning over the idea.  “How would you see the project unfolding?” “It’s simple.  I’ll ask you questions.  Some of the questions may seem foolish and irrelevant, but I’ll ask because I want to understand as much as you’ll share.  We’ll talk each day for several hours.  Early each morning, I’ll write out notes of what I learned.  After you’ve told me everything, I’ll outline the story, try to put some structure around it.  If I can tell it back to you, then we’ll move forward with a more formal, chapter-by-chapter interview.  I’ll write a chapter, then read it to you.  If you approve it, we’ll move on to the next one and repeat the sequence until we’ve told the entire story.” He reaches over and shakes my hand.  “Let’s do it.” *******

5. Support Networks Accelerate Growth Opportunities Earlier, I wrote about rules in the halfway house that required me to have a job. So long as I had a job that paid a steady paycheck, my case manager in the halfway house authorized me to leave. My friend Lee was more like a sponsor for me than an employer. He set a schedule for me to work 10—hour shifts, Monday through Saturday. I reported to an office and sat at a desk, but instead of doing work for Lee, I focused on creating a business. First, I needed Lee to see the vision. I persuaded Lee that our nation’s commitment to mass incarceration was one of the greatest social injustices of our time. Although it would take time, I convinced him that a need existed for programs and services to help people emerge from prison successfully. He encouraged me to develop a plan that would lead to a sustainable business providing products and services that would improve outcomes of our nation’s prison system.   Technology: My first challenge was learning how to use technology effectively. The world had changed during the decades that I served. I went to prison at a time when Bill Gates was talking about a time when there would be a computer in every home and on every desk. When I returned to society his vision had become a reality. We didn’t only have computers in every home and on every desk, but also in everyone’s pockets. Since I’d been away during the hyper-growth era of technology, I had to learn how to use computers and the Internet effectively. Although most people used personal computers powered by Microsoft operating systems, I’d read that Apple products were easier to learn. On the Saturday after I transitioned to the halfway house, Carole and I visited the Apple store. I purchased a MacBook Pro and a 27” iMac desktop computer. Knowing that technology could help me reach a wider audience, I spent my first weeks on the job learning how to use these fascinating products. While I was in prison I didn’t have much access to computers. I read many books about the development of the Internet, search engines, social media, and software applications. Yet when I began working with my computers, I realized that I would need to invest hundreds of hours to become proficient. Fortunately, I had Carole to tutor me. When she wasn’t at the hospital, she would sit at desk beside me to work on her studies. I liked having her close by and she was always willing to assist when I had questions about technology.   Websites: I began learning about WordPress, the powerful platform for building websites. When Carole first came into my life, we purchased the domain name MichaelSantos.net because the dot-com domain wasn’t available. Carole retained a web developer to build our new website. I published thousands of articles to document progress I made through my final decade in prison. Toward the end of my journey, we were able to purchase the domain name MichaelSantos.com for $1,000 and we began making the transition from MichaelSantos.net to MichaelSantos.com. I wanted to have a central location that would demonstrate my authenticity. Since Carole was busy with her career and school work, I needed to educate myself quickly on how to use WordPress so that I could manage my own websites. I made some critical errors in the beginning. By switching hosting companies and redesigning MichaelSantos.com, I lost thousands of articles and journal entries that I’d made over the years. For decades, I wrote a daily journal entry and sent my journals home. Carole published each entry as my “daily log” on the website. I wanted people to see the path, that through hard work, an individual could triumph over prison. Unfortunately, I lost all of those records with my decision to switch from one web-hosting company to another. We pay a price for inexperience. In time, I became more fluent with WordPress and with social media.   Building Networks: Although I didn’t understand much about using technology or computer networks, my adjustment through prison gave me other skills. One prong of my adjustment strategy was building support networks. If I could build strong support networks, I believed that more opportunities would open in prison and upon release. The goal of building strong support networks influenced my Socratic questioning: What steps could I take today to influence people to believe in me tomorrow? Those types of questions influenced my adjustment. The accomplishments I made while inside persuaded other people to believe in me. I could leverage those relationships to open new relationships. For example, earlier I wrote about my friendship with Justin Paperny. Justin was a graduate from USC and he had built a career as a stockbroker. Although he made some bad decisions that resulted in his being convicted of securities fraud, Justin’s crime didn’t characterize his entire life. He’d been successful in society once and as we built our friendship, I sensed that he would be successful again. When Justin concluded his obligation he launched the Michael G. Santos Foundation and he invested time to build that nonprofit. He attended schools, workshops, and conferences that exposed him to problems people in underserved communities faced. By relaying those findings to me, I had information I could use in ways that would help us contribute solutions. Through our work, Justin met new people and he introduced those people to me. Scott Budnick was one of the people Justin brought into my support network. Scott is famous for his role as a Hollywood producer of many blockbuster films, including The Hangover series, Starsky and Hutch, and other big-budget films. Scott’s passion, however, is juvenile justice. Scott founded The Anti-Recidivism Coalition (ARC), a nonprofit that strives to reduce recidivism. When I returned to society, Scott invited me to visit him in Hollywood. Rules of the halfway house, however, precluded me from being able travel. Until I concluded my obligation to the Bureau of Prisons, I could only go from the halfway house to my place of employment. Travel limitations and halfway house restrictions were a problem. Human support networks were a solution. Scott said that since I lived in San Francisco, I had to meet Chris Redlitz. Scott then wrote an introductory email to Chris and I followed up by writing Chris about my background, telling him about my vision of building a business around my journey. I wanted to teach other people how to emerge from prison successfully. Chris responded within hours and he invited me to meet him. Turns out that Chris Redlitz is an influential figure from the San Francisco Bay area. As a professional, he was a successful venture capitalist. Through his firm Transmedia Capital, Chris and his partners matched investors with technology entrepreneurs who wanted to build compelling businesses that changed the world. But in addition to providing funding, Chris also ran a series of business incubators, providing resources for technology startups. Besides his business career as a venture capitalist, Chris also had a passion for improving outcomes of our nation’s prison system. When not putting multi-million dollar investments together, he and his wife volunteered at the San Quentin state prison. Initially, he went in to give a speech about entrepreneurialism. The prisoners inspired him. Chris then went home and convinced his wife and business partner, Beverly Parenti, to join him. Together they launched The Last Mile, an organization that would invest in human beings. They created a comprehensive curriculum that would teach business principles to people in prison. Later, participants in The Last Mile could learn how to write computer code from inside of the prison system.

  Support Networks Accelerate Growth Opportunities Earlier, I wrote about rules in the halfway house that required me to have a job. So long as I had a job that paid a steady paycheck, my case manager in the halfway house authorized me to leave. My friend Lee was more like a sponsor for me than an employer. He set a schedule for me to work 10—hour shifts, Monday through Saturday. I reported to an office and sat at a desk, but instead of doing work for Lee, I focused on creating a business. First, I needed Lee to see the vision.     I persuaded Lee that our nation’s commitment to mass incarceration was one of the greatest social injustices of our time. Although it would take time, I convinced him that a need existed for programs and services to help people emerge from prison successfully. He encouraged me to develop a plan that would lead to a sustainable business providing products and services that would improve outcomes of our nation’s prison system.     Technology: My first challenge was learning how to use technology effectively. The world had changed during the decades that I served. I went to prison at a time when Bill Gates was talking about a time when there would be a computer in every home and on every desk. When I returned to society his vision had become a reality. We didn’t only have computers in every home and on every desk, but also in everyone’s pockets. Since I’d been away during the hyper-growth era of technology, I had to learn how to use computers and the Internet effectively.   Although most people used personal computers powered by Microsoft operating systems, I’d read that Apple products were easier to learn. On the Saturday after I transitioned to the halfway house, Carole and I visited the Apple store. I purchased a MacBook Pro and a 27” iMac desktop computer. Knowing that technology could help me reach a wider audience, I spent my first weeks on the job learning how to use these fascinating products.   While I was in prison I didn’t have much access to computers. I read many books about the development of the Internet, search engines, social media, and software applications. Yet when I began working with my computers, I realized that I would need to invest hundreds of hours to become proficient. Fortunately, I had Carole to tutor me. When she wasn’t at the hospital, she would sit at desk beside me to work on her studies. I liked having her close by and she was always willing to assist when I had questions about technology.     Websites: I began learning about WordPress, the powerful platform for building websites. When Carole first came into my life, we purchased the domain name MichaelSantos.net because the dot-com domain wasn’t available. Carole retained a web developer to build our new website. I published thousands of articles to document progress I made through my final decade in prison. Toward the end of my journey, we were able to purchase the domain name MichaelSantos.com for $1,000 and we began making the transition from MichaelSantos.net to MichaelSantos.com. I wanted to have a central location that would demonstrate my authenticity. Since Carole was busy with her career and school work, I needed to educate myself quickly on how to use WordPress so that I could manage my own websites.   I made some critical errors in the beginning. By switching hosting companies and redesigning MichaelSantos.com, I lost thousands of articles and journal entries that I’d made over the years. For decades, I wrote a daily journal entry and sent my journals home. Carole published each entry as my “daily log” on the website. I wanted people to see the path, that through hard work, an individual could triumph over prison. Unfortunately, I lost all of those records with my decision to switch from one web-hosting company to another. We pay a price for inexperience. In time, I became more fluent with WordPress and with social media.     Building Networks: Although I didn’t understand much about using technology or computer networks, my adjustment through prison gave me other skills. One prong of my adjustment strategy was building support networks. If I could build strong support networks, I believed that more opportunities would open in prison and upon release. The goal of building strong support networks influenced my Socratic questioning: What steps could I take today to influence people to believe in me tomorrow?   Those types of questions influenced my adjustment. The accomplishments I made while inside persuaded other people to believe in me. I could leverage those relationships to open new relationships. For example, earlier I wrote about my friendship with Justin Paperny. Justin was a graduate from USC and he had built a career as a stockbroker. Although he made some bad decisions that resulted in his being convicted of securities fraud, Justin’s crime didn’t characterize his entire life. He’d been successful in society once and as we built our friendship, I sensed that he would be successful again.   When Justin concluded his obligation he launched the Michael G. Santos Foundation and he invested time to build that nonprofit. He attended schools, workshops, and conferences that exposed him to problems people in underserved communities faced. By relaying those findings to me, I had information I could use in ways that would help us contribute solutions. Through our work, Justin met new people and he introduced those people to me.   Scott Budnick was one of the people Justin brought into my support network. Scott is famous for his role as a Hollywood producer of many blockbuster films, including The Hangover series, Starsky and Hutch, and other big-budget films. Scott’s passion, however, is juvenile justice. Scott founded The Anti-Recidivism Coalition (ARC), a nonprofit that strives to reduce recidivism. When I returned to society, Scott invited me to visit him in Hollywood. Rules of the halfway house, however, precluded me from being able travel. Until I concluded my obligation to the Bureau of Prisons, I could only go from the halfway house to my place of employment.   Travel limitations and halfway house restrictions were a problem. Human support networks were a solution. Scott said that since I lived in San Francisco, I had to meet Chris Redlitz. Scott then wrote an introductory email to Chris and I followed up by writing Chris about my background, telling him about my vision of building a business around my journey. I wanted to teach other people how to emerge from prison successfully. Chris responded within hours and he invited me to meet him.   Turns out that Chris Redlitz is an influential figure from the San Francisco Bay area. As a professional, he was a successful venture capitalist. Through his firm Transmedia Capital, Chris and his partners matched investors with technology entrepreneurs who wanted to build compelling businesses that changed the world. But in addition to providing funding, Chris also ran a series of business incubators, providing resources for technology startups.   Besides his business career as a venture capitalist, Chris also had a passion for improving outcomes of our nation’s prison system. When not putting multi-million dollar investments together, he and his wife volunteered at the San Quentin state prison. Initially, he went in to give a speech about entrepreneurialism. The prisoners inspired him. Chris then went home and convinced his wife and business partner, Beverly Parenti, to join him. Together they launched The Last Mile, an organization that would invest in human beings. They created a comprehensive curriculum that would teach business principles to people in prison. Later, participants in The Last Mile could learn how to write computer code from inside of the prison system.

Prison Release to California: As we approached the end of my term, we had to figure out where we wanted to live. When a man served longer than a quarter century, he didn’t really have roots anywhere. We chose California because I’d built a strong support network that would be easier to leverage from a large state. Further, California was a big market and the state had some significant problems with its prison system. Since we wanted to live in a place that offered the best opportunity, California seemed perfect. Besides the opportunity, I liked the weather. I had another reason to choose California as the place where Carole and I would begin our life together. Toward the end of my sentence I met Justin Paperny, a former stockbroker who served a relatively brief sentence for violating securities laws. We became friends. Justin’s conviction meant that he would need to create a new career for himself upon release. At the time, in 2008, the nation’s economy was sinking. I used Socratic questioning to help Justin see the challenges that awaited him. “How do you plan on earning a living when you get out?”“How will the market respond to your conviction?”“Why would a manager hire you when so many people without felony convictions are looking for employment?”“In what ways could you turn your experience of going through the criminal justice system as a strength?” Those questions helped Justin and I figure out a problem. Once we identified the problem, we could figure out solutions. Millions of formerly incarcerated individuals would face the same challenges that were about to complicate Justin’s life. Prison isn’t the only problem. We saw a massive problem with all that transpired after prison. People would need to transition into the job market. I suggested that Justin join efforts I’d been making to create programs and services that improve outcomes for the formerly incarcerated. When Justin completed his prison term, he established a nonprofit that he named The Michael G. Santos Foundation. We wrote a plan, then began writing proposals for grants to fund our work. Those efforts led to us receiving a two-year grant from The California Wellness Foundation for $140,000. The foundation agreed to provide resources that would pay Justin a salary to manage the foundation, and pay me to write literature and programs we could use to teach strategies for overcoming struggle. Through our work, we anticipated that we could improve outcomes of our nation’s criminal justice system. Had I not learned to ask the write types of questions early on during my prison journey, I would not have been able to figure out a plan to guide me through the decades. Without a plan, I wouldn’t have been able to educate myself or build credentials. And if I hadn’t earned credentials, I wouldn’t have been able to persuade The California Wellness Foundation to believe in the vision expressed through our grant requests. I’d need to continue that same strategy upon release. Setting clear goals characterized my entire journey through prison. When I came to the end of my sentence, I knew I had to set goals that would ease my transition into society. At a minimum, I wanted: Sufficient savings to sustain me for the first year of my transition into society. A job waiting. A clear plan to guide me through the first year. I’m hopeful that readers in custody will see the relationship between decisions and success. Those who make principled, values-based, goal-oriented decisions have a far greater chance of success than those who simply allow the calendar pages to turn. As a consequence of skills I developed during the first decade of imprisonment, I found ways to add value in society. Although prison rules prevented me from “running a business,” there were other rules that allowed me to write for publication. By understanding how the system operated, I could create strategies that I knew would ease my transition upon release. Executing that strategy every day allowed me to return to society strong. Carole and I had more than $85,000 in the bank on the day of my release. More importantly, we had a plan to guide our future.   Final Takeaways: I’d like to say the I originated the patterns of success I wrote about in my books. In truth, I learned from masterminds. Lessons from masterminds empowered me through the journey and they can empower you. In writing my books, all I did was rewrite the importance of applying lessons from the world’s leaders. Even in the context of a prison experience, those lessons advanced prospects for success. Through those books, I showed the result of living in accordance with values-based, goal-oriented decisions. The remainder of this book will show how you can do the same. Regardless of where you are today, regardless of what decisions you’ve made in the past, regardless of what conditions you’re living at present, you have the power within to begin sowing seeds for a brighter future. Remember that every decision comes with opportunity costs. To the extent that you adhere to a disciplined, deliberate, strategic path, you can build a life of significance, relevance, and meaning. In moving forward, begin asking the types of Socratic questions that will lead to the future you want to create: Who are your avatars? What would they expect of you? In what ways are the decisions you’re making today leading you closer to earning support tomorrow?

  California: As we approached the end of my term, we had to figure out where we wanted to live. When a man served longer than a quarter century, he didn’t really have roots anywhere. We chose California because I’d built a strong support network that would be easier to leverage from a large state. Further, California was a big market and the state had some significant problems with its prison system. Since we wanted to live in a place that offered the best opportunity, California seemed perfect. Besides the opportunity, I liked the weather.   I had another reason to choose California as the place where Carole and I would begin our life together. Toward the end of my sentence I met Justin Paperny, a former stockbroker who served a relatively brief sentence for violating securities laws. We became friends. Justin’s conviction meant that he would need to create a new career for himself upon release. At the time, in 2008, the nation’s economy was sinking. I used Socratic questioning to help Justin see the challenges that awaited him.   “How do you plan on earning a living when you get out?” “How will the market respond to your conviction?” “Why would a manager hire you when so many people without felony convictions are looking for employment?” “In what ways could you turn your experience of going through the criminal justice system as a strength?”   Those questions helped Justin and I figure out a problem. Once we identified the problem, we could figure out solutions. Millions of formerly incarcerated individuals would face the same challenges that were about to complicate Justin’s life. Prison isn’t the only problem. We saw a massive problem with all that transpired after prison. People would need to transition into the job market. I suggested that Justin join efforts I’d been making to create programs and services that improve outcomes for the formerly incarcerated.   When Justin completed his prison term, he established a nonprofit that he named The Michael G. Santos Foundation. We wrote a plan, then began writing proposals for grants to fund our work. Those efforts led to us receiving a two-year grant from The California Wellness Foundation for $140,000. The foundation agreed to provide resources that would pay Justin a salary to manage the foundation, and pay me to write literature and programs we could use to teach strategies for overcoming struggle. Through our work, we anticipated that we could improve outcomes of our nation’s criminal justice system.   Had I not learned to ask the write types of questions early on during my prison journey, I would not have been able to figure out a plan to guide me through the decades. Without a plan, I wouldn’t have been able to educate myself or build credentials. And if I hadn’t earned credentials, I wouldn’t have been able to persuade The California Wellness Foundation to believe in the vision expressed through our grant requests. I’d need to continue that same strategy upon release.   Setting clear goals characterized my entire journey through prison. When I came to the end of my sentence, I knew I had to set goals that would ease my transition into society. At a minimum, I wanted:   Sufficient savings to sustain me for the first year of my transition into society. A job waiting. A clear plan to guide me through the first year.   I’m hopeful that readers in custody will see the relationship between decisions and success. Those who make principled, values-based, goal-oriented decisions have a far greater chance of success than those who simply allow the calendar pages to turn.   As a consequence of skills I developed during the first decade of imprisonment, I found ways to add value in society. Although prison rules prevented me from “running a business,” there were other rules that allowed me to write for publication. By understanding how the system operated, I could create strategies that I knew would ease my transition upon release. Executing that strategy every day allowed me to return to society strong. Carole and I had more than $85,000 in the bank on the day of my release. More importantly, we had a plan to guide our future.     Final Takeaways: I’d like to say the I originated the patterns of success I wrote about in my books. In truth, I learned from masterminds. Lessons from masterminds empowered me through the journey and they can empower you. In writing my books, all I did was rewrite the importance of applying lessons from the world’s leaders. Even in the context of a prison experience, those lessons advanced prospects for success. Through those books, I showed the result of living in accordance with values-based, goal-oriented decisions.   The remainder of this book will show how you can do the same. Regardless of where you are today, regardless of what decisions you’ve made in the past, regardless of what conditions you’re living at present, you have the power within to begin sowing seeds for a brighter future. Remember that every decision comes with opportunity costs. To the extent that you adhere to a disciplined, deliberate, strategic path, you can build a life of significance, relevance, and meaning.   In moving forward, begin asking the types of Socratic questions that will lead to the future you want to create:   Who are your avatars? What would they expect of you? In what ways are the decisions you’re making today leading you closer to earning support tomorrow?  

In this episode of the Lions of Liberty Podcast, host Marc Clair welcomes in Michael G. Santos of the Earning Freedom Podcast! Michael details how he successfully rejoined society after 26 years in federal prison. Michael explains how he landed in jail with a 45 year sentence for selling cocaine, and how he came up with Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In this episode of the Lions of Liberty Podcast, host Marc Clair welcomes in Michael G. Santos of the Earning Freedom Podcast! Michael details how he successfully rejoined society after 26 years in federal prison. Michael explains how he landed in jail with a 45 year sentence for selling cocaine, and how he came up with