Podcast appearances and mentions of Michael Santos

For this week's episode we pull from the vault of Southern Tea podcasts... Lindsie is joined by the founder of Prison Professors, Michael Santos. While serving a 45 year sentence for a white collar crime Michael made a commitment to work towards prison reform and has continued to provide resources to anyone impacted unfairly by the prison system. Michael shares his various experiences throughout the years within the prison system, how prison camps need to be abolished, how he met his business partner Justin Paperny, the touching story of meeting his wife, and the system wide changes that he hopes to make. Check out Michael Santos at PrisonProfessors.com and PrisonProfessorsTalent.com Follow us @TheSouthernTeaPodcast for more! Thank you to our sponsors! Chime: Start your credit journey with Chime at chime.com/southernteaIndeed: Visit Indeed.com/SOUTHERNTEA to start hiring now with a $75 sponsored job credit to upgrade your job post. Terms and conditions applyIQBar: Text TEA to 64000 for 20% off all IQBar products, plus FREE shipping. By Texting 64000, you agree to receive recurring automated marketing messages from IQBAR. Message and data rates may apply. No purchase required. Terms apply, available at IQBAR.com. Reply "STOP" to stop, "HELP" for help

Discover how Michael Santos, a man who once faced a 26-year prison term, emerged as a triumphant author, educator, and voice for reform. Michael's gripping tale of transformation from a convicted drug trafficker to a beacon of hope and change is a journey you won't want to miss. His candid revelations about the pivotal moments that spurred his profound metamorphosis offer a stark reminder that the human spirit can prevail over the darkest of circumstances. Tune in for an episode that will challenge your perceptions and inspire you with the raw power of resilience and self-redemption.In this conversation, Michael and Mike explore the intricate dance between accountability and the criminal justice system through the lens of personal experience and unwavering commitment to growth. Michael shares the wisdom gleaned from mentorship and his unwavering pursuit of knowledge, even amidst the harshness of prison life. Listeners will be drawn into a world where education paves the path to new beginnings, and mentorship becomes the cornerstone of a future unshackled from past transgressions. His life serves as a blueprint for crafting opportunities and harnessing the strength within to transcend adversity.Michael's advocacy for a merit-based correctional system and the implications for society come to the forefront. This segment explores the necessity of reform to reflect the values of hard work and opportunity that define the American spirit. Entrepreneurs and business owners will appreciate Michael's insights on the fine line between success and legal scrutiny, emphasizing the need for vigilance and ethical practice in their endeavors. Tune in for a compelling narrative that will leave you pondering the essence of success, the significance of second chances, and the transformative potential of personal empowerment.Key highlights:From Struggle to SuccessBreaking the Law and Facing ConsequencesJourney Through Legal Troubles and RedemptionFinding Redemption Through Education and MentorshipCreating Opportunities Through Self-EmpowermentReforming the Prison System for SuccessConnect with Michael Santos:Website: prisonprofessors.com | earningfreedomcorp.com | michaelsantos.comLinkedIn: Michael SantosTo Connect with Mike: Website LinkedIn Instagram Twitter YouTube Coaching Get Mike's book: Owner Shift Please LIKE

Discover how Michael Santos, a man who once faced a 26-year prison term, emerged as a triumphant author, educator, and voice for reform. Michael's gripping tale of transformation from a convicted drug trafficker to a beacon of hope and change is a journey you won't want to miss. His candid revelations about the pivotal moments that spurred his profound metamorphosis offer a stark reminder that the human spirit can prevail over the darkest of circumstances. Tune in for an episode that will challenge your perceptions and inspire you with the raw power of resilience and self-redemption.In this conversation, Michael and Mike explore the intricate dance between accountability and the criminal justice system through the lens of personal experience and unwavering commitment to growth. Michael shares the wisdom gleaned from mentorship and his unwavering pursuit of knowledge, even amidst the harshness of prison life. Listeners will be drawn into a world where education paves the path to new beginnings, and mentorship becomes the cornerstone of a future unshackled from past transgressions. His life serves as a blueprint for crafting opportunities and harnessing the strength within to transcend adversity.Michael's advocacy for a merit-based correctional system and the implications for society come to the forefront. This segment explores the necessity of reform to reflect the values of hard work and opportunity that define the American spirit. Entrepreneurs and business owners will appreciate Michael's insights on the fine line between success and legal scrutiny, emphasizing the need for vigilance and ethical practice in their endeavors. Tune in for a compelling narrative that will leave you pondering the essence of success, the significance of second chances, and the transformative potential of personal empowerment.Key highlights:From Struggle to SuccessBreaking the Law and Facing ConsequencesJourney Through Legal Troubles and RedemptionFinding Redemption Through Education and MentorshipCreating Opportunities Through Self-EmpowermentReforming the Prison System for SuccessConnect with Michael Santos:Website: prisonprofessors.com | earningfreedomcorp.com | michaelsantos.comLinkedIn: Michael SantosTo Connect with Mike: Website LinkedIn Instagram Twitter YouTube Coaching Get Mike's book: Owner Shift Please LIKE

On today's episode Lindsie is joined by the founder of Prison Professors, Michael Santos. While serving a 45 year sentence for a white collar crime Michael made a commitment to work towards prison reform and has continued to provide resources to anyone impacted unfairly by the prison system. Michael shares his various experiences throughout the years within the prison system, how prison camps need to be abolished, how he met his business partner Justin Paperny, the touching story of meeting his wife, and the system wide changes that he hopes to make. Check out Michael Santos at PrisonProfessors.com and PrisonProfessorsTalent.com Follow us @TheSouthernTeaPodcast for more! Thank you to our sponsors! Hatch: Get $20 off your purchase of a Hatch Restore 2 and free shipping at hatch.co/southerntea Indeed: Visit Indeed.com/SOUTHERNTEA to start hiring now with a $75 sponsored job credit to upgrade your job post. Terms and conditions apply IQBar: Text TEA to 64000 for 20% off all IQBar products, plus FREE shipping. By Texting 64000, you agree to receive recurring automated marketing messages from IQBAR. Message and data rates may apply. No purchase required. Terms apply, available at IQBAR.com. Reply "STOP" to stop, "HELP" for help Waterboy: Recover properly with @waterboy and get 15% off with promo code SOUTHERNTEA at waterboy.com/southerntea! #waterboypartner

Hablamos sobre el gran paso de Bravos

Michael Santos joins the San Jose Hockey Now Podcast to talk about Erik Karlsson!Santos (27:00) brings 17 years of NHL front office experience to the discussion, and brings that perspective to these questions: What are the positives and negatives of Karlsson starting the season with the San Jose Sharks? Before we get to Santos, Keegan McNally and Sheng Peng chat about the Andy Strickland report that the Sharks offered Vladimir Tarasenko $6 million (2:55).Why does Keegan want to retain as little as possible on Karlsson (7:15)? Sheng and Keegan talked about the risk-reward of bringing Karlsson back (10:00). What do the San Jose Sharks owe Karlsson (10:55)? What about the injury risk (15:55)? Sheng talks to multiple league sources about the less obvious risks (17:45).There is an upside to keeping Karlsson -- Sheng offered a couple historical examples of this (21:38).Now, Michael Santos (27:00)!What is Santos hearing about a Karlsson trade (28:28)? He believes the Sharks should hold out for a premium for Karlsson.Santos shares his career path -- from 1997 to 2014, he worked in the New York Islanders, Florida Panthers, and Nashville Predators front offices (29:20). He then gives background about the formation of independent professional scouting service, Team 33 (35:45), and what makes his hockey operations management program stand out.Santos then explains the Team 33 Value Score (44:20), and shares Erik Karlsson, Logan Couture, Danil Gushchin, Thomas Bordeleau, and William Eklund's scores.Santos shares why he wouldn't be concerned about the San Jose Sharks bringing Karlsson back next season (59:20). Is he concerned about the player buy-in when he doesn't want to be around (1:05:00)? Santos shared his experience being on the other side of a player wanting out: He was an Assistant GM with the Islanders when they acquired a disgruntled Alexei Yashin from the Ottawa Senators.Santos talks about the possible upside of GM Mike Grier sticking to his guns with Karlsson (1:08:00).Santos also shares his opinion about this wild scenario: The San Jose Sharks and Karlsson agree to a contract termination, so Karlsson can sign where he wants (1:12:10).Santos predicts that the San Jose Sharks will trade Karlsson before training camp (1:17:45).Finally, Santos dives into some of his brushes with Sharks history: He reveals the Islanders wanted to trade up for No. 2 in the 1997 Draft (1:19:12). He recalls being in the Dallas Stars pressbox in Nov. 2005 when the Sharks traded for Joe Thornton (1:22:05). He also recollects the day when the Islanders traded for Yashin and Michael Peca (1:24:20).Santos shares plans about how fans can subscribe to Team 33 (1:33:45).Listen to the San Jose Hockey Now Podcast — it's a new link — on Apple Podcasts and Spotify and Google Podcasts.Subscribe to the San Jose Hockey Now Podcast YouTube channel, we're trying to get over 1K subscribers! ★ Support this podcast ★

Could you build a new empire off your worst life decision? Meet Justin Paperny who is the founder of White Collar advice, who has become an expert at helping 1000's of people facing challenges with the criminal justice system. Justin's story has been featured on many national news stations, including ⁠The Washington Post⁠, ⁠CNN⁠, ⁠Fox⁠, ⁠Dr. Phil⁠ and others. Lastly, NBC Universal aired “⁠My Deal With the Devil⁠“, a 60-minute television show about Justin's story. Justin has become a nationally recognized public speaker for corporate America. He did work with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, including lecturing at ⁠The FBI Academy⁠ in Quantico, VA. Justin grew up in an upscale suburb of Encino, California. He was a D-1 athlete that played baseball for USC. He was trained at Merrill Lynch, moved to Bear Stearns, and finally joined UBS in its Century City, L.A. office. Serving 400 days in federal prison wasn't what Justin had in mind when he became a stockbroker fresh out of the University of California. But a "focus of short-term rewards led to the rotting of the inner core," Paperny writes in his book, Ethics In Motion. He was in the seven figure signing bonus race of produce however you produce or you are out the door. He worked mostly with professional athletes and hedge funds. He knew what his client was doing and turned a blind eye to keep commissions coming, When the corporate attorney asked about it, Justin lied. When the FBI asked about it, Justin wasn't truthful again. Things went from bad to worse to prison. In prison, Justin befriended a mentor, Michael Santos (sentenced to 30+ years, who helped Justin with his comeback story of how to prepare for his second chance. You will come out of listening to this episode saying, "Wow!"

Welcome to The Building Men Podcast, where we explore stories of personal growth, resilience, and redemption. Today, we have a truly remarkable guest with us, Michael Santos. Michael's journey is a testament to the power of determination, self-reflection, and the belief that it's never too late to turn your life around.Regardless of our past, we all face challenges and make decisions that may lead us down difficult paths. Michael knows this all too well. He experienced addiction issues, incarceration, and the consequences of bad decisions. But instead of letting his past define him, he chose to focus on the present and work towards a better, brighter future.Despite serving a daunting 45-year sentence as a drug kingpin, Michael didn't allow himself to be consumed by despair. Instead, he seized the opportunity to transform his life. Even behind bars, he found a way to contribute to the lives of others. Michael's determination and resilience led him to establish Prison Professors, an organization aimed at providing resources and guidance to incarcerated individuals.While in prison, Michael discovered the power of the Socratic way of thinking. This approach, rooted in asking questions and engaging in critical thinking, played a pivotal role in his transformation. By challenging his own beliefs and embracing new perspectives, Michael was able to cultivate personal growth and pave the way for a successful future.Today, Michael Santos stands as a shining example of what can be achieved when we refuse to let our circumstances define us. His story is an inspiration for anyone who has faced adversity and wants to create positive change in their own lives.Join us as Michael shares his incredible journey, highlighting the importance of taking responsibility for our choices, embracing opportunities, and crafting our own success stories. Get ready to be inspired and motivated by the resilience and determination of a man who turned his life around, even when the odds were stacked against him.Prison Professors THE FOUNDATION - Virtual Community for Young MenSubscribe to the Building Men NewsletterBuilding Men InstagramBuilding Men WebsiteBuilding Men FacebookEmpower Your Son - schedule a 15 minute strategy callIf our podcast resonates with you, please consider rating, reviewing and sharing it with anyone who you believe would benefit from the message.Visit our sponsors - Finish The Race – Home of the official Building Men gear

In this episode of Causes or Cures, Dr. Eeks chats wit Dr. Michael Santos about the A-PLUS trial, published in The New England Journal of Medicine, which looked at the effects of a cheap, widely available antibiotic, Azithromycin, in preventing sepsis and death in women during childbirth in low- to middle-income countries. Dr. Santos will explain the prevalence and life-threatening nature of sepsis in women during childbirth, particularly in low-resource settings. He will discuss what they knew about Azithromycin and maternal sepsis prior to the study, how they recruited for this study and conducted it, the results they found, and the wider public health implications. Dr. Santos is Vice President of Science at the Foundations for the National Intitutes of Health (FNIH)  and was in charge of the work FNIH did on the A-PLUS trial. He was previously Deputy Director of the Global Health program of the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation. You can contact Dr. Eeks at bloomingwellness.com.Follow Dr. Eeks on Instagram here.Or Facebook here.Or Twitter.Subcribe to her newsletter here! Support the show

Michael Santos (@MichaelGSantos) survived 26 years as a federal prisoner, hosts the Prison Professors podcast, and is the author of Earning Freedom!: Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term. What We Discuss with Michael Santos: How Michael Santos got sentenced to 45 years in federal prison when he was just 23 years old — not for committing a violent crime, but for establishing himself as a cocaine entrepreneur at the height of the War on Drugs (and committing perjury just made things worse). What this conviction meant to Michael's relationship with his family — and his wife. The three-prong plan Michael applied to the sudden wealth of time he had on his hands to find a way to reduce his sentence and hit the ground running when he finally got out. How the system is designed to trip up attempts inmates make toward self-improvement and rehabilitation. How Michael made his first million behind bars. And much more... Full show notes and resources can be found here: jordanharbinger.com/802 This Episode Is Brought To You By Our Fine Sponsors: jordanharbinger.com/deals Sign up for Six-Minute Networking — our free networking and relationship development mini course — at jordanharbinger.com/course! Like this show? Please leave us a review here — even one sentence helps! Consider including your Twitter handle so we can thank you personally!

Michael Santos was 23 years old when he was sentenced to 45 years in jail for drug trafficking and other related charges. Michael was able to finish his sentence in 26 years, and now helps others transition to life outside of prison. For only .99 CENTS order my new book “The Wealthy Way: Don't Go Broke Trying To Get Rich” and get FREE access to my new course “Business Builder Academy” where I go over all the fundamentals of building a 7-figure business. https://www.wealthyway.com/book______________________________________________________Here's how my businesses can help you:Want to be coached by me on real estate investing? Apply at https://wealthyinvestor.comAre you an entrepreneur who wants to build their personal brand on social media? Go to https://wealthycreator.ioYou can invest in my real estate deals! Go to https://pinedacapital.comNeed tax and accounting help? Contact my CPA Firm! https://TrueBooksCPA.com/For a free consultation with my team go to https://RyanPineda.com______________________________________________________My other social media channels:Subscribe to my real estate only channel "Wealthy Investor" https://www.youtube.com/c/futureflipper1Follow me on Social Media: https://www.instagram.com/ryanpinedahttps://www.tiktok.com/@ryanpinedahttps://www.twitter.com/ryanpineda______________________________________________________Connect with Michael! Website - https://michaelsantos.com/Michael Santos read “The Treasury of Philosophy” in prison and totally changed his way of thinking with the story of Socrates. Michael had a three-pronged plan to change his life. These prongs were: 1. Get an education.2. Contribute to society.3. Build a strong support system. Michael focused on these three prong every single day he was incarcerated and used the ideals as a compass for his life. In his first 10 years spent in jail, Michael Santos became a college grad with an undergraduate and a master's degree as well as a published author! By the time he served his 15th year, his books were in colleges across the country. Ryan Pineda asked Michael what some ways where he prepared for life when he was getting out of prison. Michael worked on developing relationships with successful people by writing letters to them. One of his pitches was the concept that businessmen don't buy assets for what they're worth now, but what they will be worth in 5 years from now. Only two days after he got out of prison, he made a creative finance deal to buy his first house, and that's how he got started in real estate. The man he partnered with is still his partner today as they've done over $10 million in transactions together and is his best friend. His digital businesses focus on helping prisoners planning and prepping for life when they get out. His modules follow the path to success and help individuals set goals, plan for their goals, and help them take action.

We have Grace Kuo and Michael Santos on this episode sharing their first flip they did OUT OF STATE!  This powerhouse duo are HomeSchooled by Tarek students that share the importance of investing in their education.  They go into detail on how they got the best rate from their lender and how they won over the sellers by helping them understand the math behind their offer.  It's hard to believe this was their first flip!   Michael Santos and Grace Kuo are a husband and wife team from Glendora, CA who founded MWGM Properties. They began their real estate investment journey in 2021 after joining Homeschooled by Tarek. Before joining the program, Michael is a nurse working in a mental health facility and Grace is a licensed marriage and family therapist and their only real estate experience up until then was buying and selling their 2 primary residences. Since starting MWGM Properties, they've flipped 2 properties in Oregon and have shifted their focus on short term and medium term rentals. Currently they have purchased three properties in South Bend, IN with the intention of turning them into AirBnBs. Michael's personal interests outside of real estate consist of collecting sneakers and fitness. Grace's personal interests are wine and coffee and shameless reality TV shows like 90 Day Fiance. Mochi and Wobbles are their dogs/business partners who handle marketing and human resources.   Website: www.mwgmproperties.com Facebook: MWGM Properties IG: @mwgmproperties   To learn more about Jen Josey, visit www.TheRealJenJosey.com To join REIGN, visit www.REIGNmastermind.com If you would like to 

Regardless of what your past looks like – whether you've had some addiction issues, been incarcerated, had a failed marriage, or whatever situation you were in due to a bad decision you've made–there's nothing you can do to change your past. But you can always focus on the present and work towards a better, brighter future. You either create excuses or create opportunities ; it's your choice! In today's conversation, Michael Santos, the founder of Prison Professors, talks about how a drug kingpin serving a 45-year sentence, managed to change the course of his life and to craft his own success story. Even while in prison, Michael created opportunities that would allow him to contribute to the lives of other people. It was also in prison that he learned about the Socratic way of thinking, an approach that helped make his transformation possible. Here are some power takeaways from today's conversation: [01:49] Michael's family background [03:37] How he got into the narcotics game [07:03] Helping your kids define success [09:29] How he started selling cocaine [13:23] How he became a drug kingpin [18:57] The day he got arrested [25:24] Owning the problems you created [27:41] How Socrates changed the way he thought [30:21] How he got through difficult times in prison [36:53] A sense of gratitude instead of regret [43:20] Adjusting to the world outside of prison [50:40] His journey through writing [58:19] How he got started with real estate [61:42] Why he created Prison Professors Notable quotes from the Episode: "None of us can change the past... but we can always work to influence the future." "When you have that mindset of knowing what you want, you can start making decisions accordingly.” “We either create opportunities or create excuses – it's our choice.” “Everybody has the power within to make a better life." “The right decision at the wrong time is the wrong decision.” Connecting with the Guest Website: https://prisonprofessors.com/ Books: https://prisonprofessors.com/books-of-prison-professors/ Connect with our growing community: Apply to GoBundance: https://www.gobundance.com/membership Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/gobundance/ Not a millionaire yet but want to be a part of our ecosystem? Check out EMERGE by GoBundance. Enroll Today! https://www.gobundance.com/emerge Interested in starting your own podcast or handing off your production to a qualified team? Email erik@onairbrands.com to learn how we're making the world better, one mic at a time.

People heading to court often turn to the internet for guidance. In so doing, many come across the work of Justin Paperny, who dispenses advice on his YouTube channel. His videos offer preparation advice and help manage expectations, while providing defendants information to be able to hold their current lawyers accountable, and to try to negotiate a lighter sentence.Mr. Paperny, a former financial criminal, also leads White Collar Advice with his partner Michael Santos, another former convict. The firm is made up of 12 convicted felons who each have their own consulting specialty based on where they served time and their own sentencing experiences.The journalist Jack Hitt relates the story of the two men and the details of their firm, which “fills a need in 21st-century America.” It is, Mr. Hitt writes, “a natural market outgrowth of a continuing and profound shift in America's judicial system.”This story was written by Jack Hitt recorded by Audm. To hear more audio stories from publications like The New York Times, download Audm for iPhone or Android.

According to H.P. Lovecraft, an American writer, “The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.” People going into a government investigation or facing criminal charges know what I'm discussing.   I'm Michael Santos, founder of Prison Professors. We launched our nonprofit to offer resources for justice-impacted people who want to help themselves. Getting help starts with understanding. If people don't understand the process, they lack clarity on different mitigation strategies they may engineer.   https://prisonprofessors.com/app-defendants-presentencing/

Our team at Prison Professors welcomes you to our App.   My name is Michael Santos. As a co-founder of Prison Professors, I feel a connection and a personal responsibility to our subscribers.    Our team at Prison Professors publishes free content to help all justice-impacted people.   We consider the following people to be justice-impacted:   Exposed to government investigations, Charged with a crime, Going through judicial proceedings, Going through probation or prison, Released from prison, Working with people that face criminal charges, People that work in jails, prisons, or probation departments, Interest in how mass incarceration influences our nation.   Those who want more detailed information should visit www.PrisonProfessors.com or connect with a member of our team.   Our App strives to provide information in an easy-to-find format that will help justice-impacted people.   Subscribe to our App for updates we publish. It's free!   Click the following link for free digital books by Prison Professors:   Click here to get free digital / audiobooks by Prison Professors.

An Open Letter from Prison Professors to All Course Participants   Hi, My name is Michael Santos. I'm the founder of Earning Freedom and the Prison Professors nonprofit. If you're working through our course, it's likely that you're going through the criminal justice system at some stage—pretrial, in custody, or on some form of community supervision. Both Bill McGlashan and I can empathize with your plight. For 9,500 days, I lived as federal prisoner number 16377-004. I am intimately familiar with challenges of living in confinement. Despite those challenges, I know the opportunities that open when a person chooses deliberate adjustment strategies. A jail or prison may or may not offer rehabilitative courses. When a person develops a self-directed work ethic, a person can work on personal development regardless of where administrators confine him or her. At Prison Professors, we develop courses that help people that want to help themselves. For that reason, it pleases me to offer our course: Lessons on Leadership: With Bill McGlashan Some may wonder why a person like Bill McGlashan would work with a startup like Prison Professors. Bill is known across the globe as one of the foremost impact investors. Why would such a man volunteer so much of his personal time to help people locked in America's jails and prisons?  To respond to that question, it may help if I offer some context. Participants will learn all about Bill and the way he thinks through the course. Before getting to the course, let me offer the backstory.   Backstory: I made bad decisions as a young man, refusing to heed the advice of teachers or mentors. Excitement of a fast crowd lured me away from productive habits. I began making bad decisions during the recklessness of youth. Those decisions turned worse in 1984, when I was 20. I began participating with a group that sold cocaine. In August of 1987, federal agents arrested me. For the next 30 years, I lived inside prisons of every security level or on some form of community confinement, including:  • High-security US penitentiaries, • Medium-security federal correctional institutions, • Low-security federal correctional institutions, • Minimum-security federal prison camps, • A halfway house, • Home confinement, • Supervised Release. • Special Parole, • Parole As I reveal in Earning Freedom: Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term, leaders taught me many lessons during that lengthy odyssey. With hopes of helping as many people as possible, I accept a responsibility to pass along lessons that transformed my life.  Even though a person may serve a lengthy term, any of us can choose to work toward reconciling with society. While in prison, I learned from many leaders. People like Bill McGlashan taught me to follow the principles of leadership: Define success, as the best possible outcome. Create a plan and prepare to overcome the challenges ahead. Put priorities in place, knowing that incremental progress would lead to new opportunities. Create tools, tactics, and resources that would help me grow, and Execute the plan every day. That disciplined adjustment strategy could help any person that wanted to prepare for a life of meaning, relevance, and dignity. It could help a person restore confidence. Regardless of what bad decisions we made in the past, at any time, regardless of where we are, we can work toward making better decisions.  I aspired to reconcile with society and to prepare in ways that would allow me to emerge successfully. A willingness to learn from leaders opened my eyes to a new philosophy. Rather than complaining about the challenges wrought by my bad decisions, I could work to make amends. Any person could do the same. In Earning Freedom: Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term, I share the entire story. On August 11, 1987, authorities arrested me. After a jury convicted me, a judge sentenced me to serve a 45-year sentence. While locked in jail, a correctional officer passed me a copy of Plato's book, The Republic, which introduced me to philosophy. I learned about Socrates and his remarkable way of looking at the world.  Reading The Republic changed my life. It helped me to realize and accept the colossal mistakes I had made as a young man. I'd been living by a bad philosophy. Rather than working to help my community, I broke the law.  Socrates (and other leaders) taught me to stop feeling sorry for myself. Leaders suggested that we change if we don't like our situation, or if we're facing a challenge. To start, we must change the way we think. From leaders like Socrates (and Bill McGlashan), I learned the power that comes when we think about other people and our community instead of only thinking about the challenges we face. We can recalibrate. We can work to earn freedom.  That change in thinking influenced a deliberate adjustment strategy. While incarcerated, I made a 100% commitment to: Pursue self-directed learning, Contribute to society in meaningful, measurable ways, and Work toward building a strong support network that would include positive role models. That three-pronged strategy made all the difference. When defining success at that stage in my life, I simply wanted to emerge with my dignity intact. I wanted to pursue a path that would open opportunities to live as a law-abiding, contributing citizen. By preparing well, no one would know that I had served a quarter century when I got out. I wanted to emerge unscathed. That strategy led to my earning a bachelor's degree from Mercer University, a master's degree from Hofstra University, getting married in prison, and opening many income opportunities that I could expand upon after release. By the time I walked out of prison, I had sufficient savings in the bank to launch my career. None of that would have been possible had I not opened my mind, and my heart, to learn from leaders.   Any person that served time alongside me could have done the same. At any time, we can choose to learn from leaders like Bill McGlashan. Sadly, the prison culture conditions people to learn from so-called “shot callers” instead. The leaders I studied taught me to think differently from the way I thought before I went to prison. I encourage others to do the same. Those who choose to pursue self-directed adjustments will find opportunities rather than challenges awaiting them upon release—as I experienced. While still in the halfway house, San Francisco State University hired me to teach as an adjunct professor. Simultaneously, I began building businesses. Together with my partners, we persuaded prison administrators, federal judges, probation officers, and even U.S. Attorneys to purchase our products and services. A successful adjustment inside eased my reentry, allowing me to begin building a career upon release. I didn't need a job. Preparations allowed me to create my own income streams. I am convinced that any person in jail or prison can use the time inside to recalibrate and open opportunities. To succeed, however, those people must accept the reality. As administrators used to tell me:  “We don't care anything about your life after your release. We only care about the security of the institution.” In such an environment, we should expect obstacles. Despite obstacles that contribute to intergenerational cycles of recidivism, we must focus on what we can do to prepare for the journey ahead. We must reject the dubious advice we receive: From the system: You've got nothin' comin'. Don't do the crime if you can't do the time. From misguided people inside: The best way to serve time is to forget about the world outside, and to focus on your reputation in prison. Mahatma Gandhi taught us that we should strive to live as the change we want to see in the world. I want to live in a world where people can always work to become better and reach their highest potential. I'm grateful to the many leaders who taught me this message. For that reason, I've devoted my professional career to sharing what I've learned from leaders.   It pleases me to share these lessons from Bill McGlashan, a genuine world-class leader. What qualifies Bill as a world-class leader?  A lot! Bill has impeccable academic credentials, with an undergraduate degree from Yale, and a graduate degree in business from Stanford. While I served decades in prison, Bill distinguished himself as a steward of capital for private equity companies, business leader, and impact investor. He launched startups that he later sold to publicly traded corporations. As a CEO, he saved hundreds of jobs by accepting the responsibility of restructuring a publicly traded company that was on the verge of failure. As a director of TPG Capital, he created stellar returns on more than $12 billion worth of funds that investors entrusted to him and his team.  Bill built a reputation as one of the world's most astute impact investors. He brought coalitions of other world-class activists, philanthropists, and leaders together, including: Bono: Singer for U2, but also founder of RED, ONE, and a cultural leader. Jeff Skoll: Founder of eBay, Participant Media, and the Skoll Foundation. Laurene Powell Jobs, philanthropist, and founder of the Emerson Collective. Mo Ibrahim, founder of Celtel and global philanthropist focused on Africa. Richard Branson, founder of Virgin Group. Anand Mahindra, Chairman of Mahindra Group from India. I did not meet Bill until the summer of 2021, eight years after I had finished my obligation to the Bureau of Prisons.  Despite having devoted his professional career to creating solutions in response huge global challenges that included solutions for climate change, extreme poverty, access to healthcare and education, Bill made a catastrophic decision as a parent. He agreed to participate in a ruse. A conman convinced him to pay an unscrupulous testing service to assist prospects for his son's admission to a university. His son didn't need the help, and he didn't know that Bill had participated in the artifice. Bill's decision led to a series of catastrophic event, proving the theorem of Scottish author Sir Walter Scott, who wrote: • Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive. Authorities arrested Bill, a grand jury indicted him, and he pleaded guilty to a federal crime.  Bill and I spoke for the first time a few days before he would surrender to serve a three-month sentence in federal prison. During our lengthy conversation, I listened to Bill express his remorse and admired his eagerness to make amends. When he told me that he wanted to use his time inside to help as many people as possible, I offered some observations on what he could expect from the experience. People in jail or prison could learn from his lessons on leadership.  Bill's story was the type that inspired me to want to learn more while I served my sentence.  Knowing that others could benefit from his wisdom, I invited him to volunteer his time to create a new course with Prison Professors. Through the course, I suggested, we would help people learn the importance of pursuing self-directed learning projects. Since the prison system may not always have resources to offer educational courses, I explained, we could fill the gap. As evidenced by the video files that accompany this course, and the personal nature of the lessons, Bill volunteered to spend hundreds of hours working alongside me. Together, we developed the course.  This course offers opportunities for self-directed participants to work toward developing their vocabulary, their writing skills, and their critical-thinking skills. Those building blocks can help anyone grow. By developing those skills, I opened countless opportunities as the months turned into years, and the years turned into decades.  Bill's teachings would have inspired me while I served my sentence. They inspire me now. They make me want to learn more. We hope that you will learn from the video files, the audio files and the lessons that make up our course. Although I didn't appreciate the importance of education when I started the journey, this course would have opened my eyes to the liberty that comes with self-directed learning plans. On behalf of our entire team at Prison Professors, Bill and I encourage you to work toward reaching your highest potential.    Sincerely, Michael Santos      

Se você ouviu o episódio 6 até o final, sabe que o Primeiro Contato entrou num breve hiato de duas semanas e volta no dia 13 de setembro. Mas não se preocupe: preparamos dois episódios bônus para preencher essa lacuna. Lembra que todo final de episódio pedíamos para você enviar um áudio via WhatsApp, contando sua história de primeiro contato com seu computador? Esses episódios reúnem os melhores relatos que recebemos dos ouvintes. São histórias divertidas e sensíveis que ajudam a pintar um panorama de como foi a entrada dos computadores nos lares dos brasileiros, entre as décadas de 80, 90 e 2000. Com relatos de Victor Sabino, Raila Spindola, Fábio Costa, Gabriel Rezende, Luiz Gustavo Dias, Barbara Gutierrez, Gustavo Vieira, Felipe de Almeida, Mariana Stéfani, Claiton Knoth, Thai Spier, Michael Santos e Daniel Cananea. Entre em contato conosco através do email primeirocontato@b9.com.br. Primeiro Contato é uma co-produção B9 e Overloadr Idealização, produção, roteiro e apresentação: Henrique Sampaio Edição e sonorização deste episódio: Henrique Sampaio, com apoio de Mariana Leão e Angie Lopez Trilha sonora original: Casemiro Azevedo Trilha sonora adicional: Windows 96 e Epidemic Sound. Produção Executiva: Carlos Merigo, Ju Wallauer e Cris Bartis Coordenação: Alexandre Potascheff Identidade Visual: Henrique Sampaio Coordenação digital: Agê Barros, Pedro Strazza, Luzi Santana e Mattheus Guimarães Marketing: Luzi Santana Atendimento e Negócios: Rachel Casmala, Camila Mazza, Greyce Lidiane e TelmaApoie o Overloadr: https://www.overloadr.com.br/ajudeSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

We interview Michael Santos, a former Cocaine King Pin who served 26 years in Federal Prison. While in prison he turned his life around and wrote several successful books. After his release he managed to turn from a ex-convict to a millionaire. https://michaelsantos.com Everyone has a story to tell, but our stories involve street gangs, punk rock, prison, parole, bar fights, skateboarding, boxing, mediation, community activism, fatherhood, divorce, alcoholism, drug addiction, recovery, owning a skate shop, photography, filmmaking, angst, spiritual awakening, enlightenment and that's just scratching the surface. Join Kasper as we take you on the journey of our lives and share insights and our opinions along with interviewing ex-prisoners who have success in their own way and spotlighting people who make a difference in the scenes we love. Instagram: @stealyoursoul Website: www.stealyoursoul.com/screamingatawallpodcast Want to be on our show? Have you been to prison? Have you been successful in staying out? Do you have a story you would like to share? Send an email to info.screamingatawall@gmail.com You can support our channel by subscribing and sharing. You can also go to https://anchor.fm/screamingatawallpodcast sign up for a subscription or see all available platforms. Intro-Outro Music by Mr. Eds insta: @the_mr_eds

We interview Michael Santos, a former Cocaine King Pin who served 26 years in Federal Prison. While in prison he turned his life around and wrote several successful books. After his release he managed to turn from a ex-convict to a millionaire. https://michaelsantos.com Everyone has a story to tell, but our stories involve street gangs, punk rock, prison, parole, bar fights, skateboarding, boxing, mediation, community activism, fatherhood, divorce, alcoholism, drug addiction, recovery, owning a skate shop, photography, filmmaking, angst, spiritual awakening, enlightenment and that's just scratching the surface. Join Kasper as we take you on the journey of our lives and share insights and our opinions along with interviewing ex-prisoners who have success in their own way and spotlighting people who make a difference in the scenes we love. Instagram: @stealyoursoul Website: www.stealyoursoul.com/screamingatawallpodcast Want to be on our show? Have you been to prison? Have you been successful in staying out? Do you have a story you would like to share? Send an email to info.screamingatawall@gmail.com You can support our channel by subscribing and sharing. You can also go to https://anchor.fm/screamingatawallpodcast sign up for a subscription or see all available platforms. Intro-Outro Music by Mr. Eds insta: @the_mr_eds

We've all got stuff we couldn't part with. Meet Lifestyle Engineer, Michael Santos, who breathes new life into your "trash" and transforms it into treasure! Come in, come in! Let's chat!

Today: Lake County Surveyor Bill Emerson Jr. is on "Regionally Speaking" to talk about the impact that the new statewide wetlands law -- passed by the Legislature this session -- will have on Lake County property owners. (The wetland shown above is in Marshall County.) Michael Santos with Northwest Indiana Mutual Aid Initiative, composed of three grassroots, volunteer-based organizations, will talk about last weekend’s “Mutual Aid Pop-up” event in East Chicago and any others planned for the months ahead. And Rima Shahid, executive director of "Women4Change" talks about the May 22nd virtual training session for women who are interested in seeking public office.

Listen on this message from Pastor Michael Santos.

After spending 26 years in a cell, Michael Santos reflects on the bad decisions he has made and his path to redemption and transformation. He shares how these decisions have led him into a life of entrepreneurship and the creation of successful businesses like Prison Professors, among others. Guide to the Key Takeaways Michael recounts how he got into trouble and the decisions that lead to his incarceration (3.02 – 5.09) Michael shares his story. What took him onto the path of crime (5.10 – 7.10) Overcoming the shame from making ‘bad decisions’. (7.11 – 10.16) Thoughts on his penalty despite his crime being non-violent. (10.17 – 11.54) Creating a focus for the future whilst inside the prison (11.55 – 13.34) Michael’s motivations and inspiration that allowed him to forgive himself and move forward. (13.35 – 19.43) Overcoming rejection and moving into the entrepreneurial community (19.44 – 25.19) Walking out of prison and setting goals for a purpose driven life (25.20 – 27.22) What Michael’s business look like now (27.23 – 30.09) Future vision of the business. (30.10 – 32.51) Turning a trauma into a life of purpose and service of others (32.52 – 36.09) Advice to someone that is going through a legal battle. (36.10 – 40.30) How can listeners get contact with Michael Santos (40.31 – end) https://prisonprofessors.com/michael-santos/

Listen on this message from Pastor Michael Santos.

Hello to you. My name is Michael Santos and on behalf of everyone on our team, I welcome you. Our websites include Prison Professors dot com and Compliance Mitigation dot com. We offer services to help people and businesses with risk mitigation and avoiding government investigations. For those who have been targeted for prosecution, we create mitigation strategies. We help with sentencing and preparations for the journey ahead. Visit us at either PrisonProfessors.com or ComplianceMitigation.com. Call or text 949-205-6056. To understand corporate fraud, we should begin with a basic review of how our nation’s founders structured our government. Most all people that attended school in America remember that we have three separate branches of government: • Legislative Branch: Includes the Senate and the House of Representatives. In these two houses of Congress, legislators pass laws that people in our country must follow. The Congress also controls the country’s budget. • Executive Branch: Our president leads the Executive Branch, signing legislative bills into law, and overseeing numerous administrative and law-enforcement agencies to ensure people comply with the laws. • Judicial Branch: The president appoints judges at the district court level to make factual findings, appellate court judges to assess due process in the lower courts, and the Supreme Court, which has the final say over all courts in the United States. Since we declared our independence, our nation’s government has grown. As a result, every individual and every business is subject to following more than 4,500 laws and millions of pages of regulations in the federal system. Besides the federal system, each of our 50 states has its own body of laws. Like the federal government, each state has many regulatory agencies and law enforcement divisions that enforce compliance.   Despite starting with an intent to create jobs and solve problems for customers, on any given day, business leaders could violate regulations or laws. Sometimes, decisions made in the course of business can lead to civil or criminal investigations. Sadly, investigators can also draw rank-and-file employees into those investigations.   The investigations may start in any number of ways. Ordinarily, they begin in secret. Investigators gather information with hopes of building a case. They may seek documents to review. They may identify people with whom they want to speak: • As witnesses to a government investigation, • As subjects to a government investigation, or • As the target of a government investigation. Whether a person responds as a witness, a subject, or a target, when people respond to government investigators, they expose themselves to potential liability. Despite not having known whether they’ve done anything wrong, people may face civil or criminal charges for corporate fraud, obstruction of justice, or any number of white-collar crimes.   With so much at stake, it makes sense for people to learn as much as possible about government investigations and how they operate. More knowledge about government investigations will help people make better decisions. In some cases, it may make sense to get counsel by hiring a lawyer who has experience with government investigations. How do Government Investigations Begin? Agencies like the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) and the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) publish articles on their websites that offer information on how they begin investigations. Those agencies do not hide the fact that they begin in secret. Neither business owners, nor the people that work in the businesses, will know that they’re being investigated until the agencies are ready to reveal what they’re doing. An agency will not make its case public until the investigative team believes it has the evidence to prevail in the lawsuit or complaint.   Investigators may begin making inquiries for any number of reasons. They may receive a tip, or a complaint. That tip may come from a disgruntled consumer, from a whistleblower, or from a representative at a consumer-protection group, such as the Better Business Bureau. Once the complaint begins, the investigators start working to gather data. If the data suggests that the target has violated regulations, or engaged in corporate fraud, the agency may choose to handle the matter administratively, or it may file a lawsuit in court.   Business owners and employees protect themselves when they understand the power of government investigators. That means, if they’re talking over the phone, if they’re sending an email, if they’re sending a text message, they may want to think about how government investigators would construe their words. The more knowledge a person has about what could happen, the more cautious a person would be when communicating within the organization, or with prospective consumers.   For example, in a case that the Federal Trade Commission was making against a real estate developer that operated a call center, investigators conducted an undercover call. The undercover agents went through the company’s process: • Step 1: They filled out a lead form on the company’s website. • Step 2: They agreed to participate in a telephone pitch at a scheduled time. • Step 3: They started a recording before the pitch, identifying themselves as agents of the FTC, stating the date, time, and stating that the purpose of the call was to investigate the real estate developer. • Step 4: The agent’s spoke with the developer’s representative and asked questions with an intent of gathering evidence to build their case. • Step 5: After the call, the agent’s marked the recording into evidence, without the representative ever knowing that she was speaking to a government agency, and that her voice had been recorded and would be used to further a government investigation. • Step 6: Later, after the FTC filed its lawsuit, the telemarketing sales agent became subjected to a deposition under oath. If investigators believed that the telemarketer had lied, or misled consumers, they could threaten her with either civil or criminal charges. What is the takeaway from the information above? As business owners, it’s crucial to recognize that government investigators have many resources at their disposal. When they begin investigations, they have an interest in penalizing the company and the individuals that work with the company. Since the agents have authority to conduct their investigation in secret, they do not have a duty to let the person know that they’re being recorded. Our team at Compliance Mitigation wants to help both business leaders and team members protect themselves. As citizens, we protect ourselves when we document every stage of our processes. We want to show that we’re acting in good faith, because government investigators will always view our decisions from a cynical perspective—exposing people and businesses to sanctions. In the example given, the business could have protected itself by publishing the scripts it creates for telemarketers. Each of those scripts should have been stored. Then, the business should invest in training, confirming that each of the telemarketers understood the corporate messaging—messaging that should have been vetted by an attorney who would be knowledgeable about the telemarketing sales rule. Further, the telemarketers should confirm how often they’ve been trained to speak in accordance with corporate messaging—and the penalties associated with noncompliance. Businesses should also train team members on the penalties that follow for those found to have violated agency regulations, rules, or laws.   Legal Exposure Business leaders may not be trained in law, but ignorance of the law will not shield them from a government investigation. Government investigators will rely upon a doctrine known as respondeat superior. The translation from Latin means “Let the master answer.” In other words, government agents may hold employers liable for the acts that employees perform during the course of the job. As an example, we’ll offer insight into a case that led to imprisonment for several officers and directors of a publicly traded company. These are people that served time in federal prison, along with members of our team. We have personal knowledge from listening to their stories. Those people have since been released from prison, and they’ve gone on to build productive lives. Since the purpose of this exercise is to help our course participants understand the risks, and not to hurt other people, we’ll change the names of the people involved. • Those who want to research the matter may search for the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission case: CV-03-2834 R (RNZBx) (C.D. Cal.) While confined at the federal prison camp in Lompoc, I met James. As a young entrepreneur, he launched an Internet advertising company. James later hired other people to join his company, including Mike, who served as the company’s senior vice president of business development, and Lisa, who served as the company’s vice president of finance, Cindy, who served as the company’s controller and director of finance. Eventually, investment bankers brought the company public and it performed well during the dawn of the Internet era. Rather than having a background in finance, James expertise came from selling advertising. He relied upon his team to keep track of records. The company’s compensation plan incentivized people to build higher levels of sales, as all of the company’s leaders had stock in the company. If the company performed well with growing sales, the stock price would rise. If sales faltered, the company understood that stock price would drop in the market. When a recession threatened to slow sales, Mike, Lisa, and Cindy hatched a scheme. They conspired with leaders at another company. Basically, company A agreed to purchase goods and services from company B, and company B agreed to purchase goods and services for the exact same amount from Company A. Company A sent money to company B, masquerading the transaction as a sale; then, company B sent the exact same amount of money back to company A, masquerading the transaction as a sale. The sham purchases boosted sales so that investors would think that each company continued bringing in robust sales, even though the conspirators created those sales artificially. In reality, the conspirators understood that those transactions did not represent authentic sales from actual consumers. As CEO and president of the company, James had direct supervisory authority over Mike, Lisa, and Cindy. James was not on the sales team, nor did he have a finance background. He lacked the requisite skill to understand how Lisa and Cindy would account for the transactions on the financial statements. Nevertheless, James bore responsibility for the actions of the people that worked for him. Several years later, a larger company made an offer to acquire James’s company. During the due diligence phase, forensic accountants researched all of the corporate records of James’s company. When the auditors discovered the sham sales transactions, the accountants notified investigators at the Securities and Exchange Commission. Investigators subpoenaed the records, launching a government investigation. Before the investigators began to ask questions, they had a clear understanding of the deception. Yet neither James, Mike, Cindy, nor Lisa knew that they had been under investigation. When the questions came, they did not know how to respond. Each person lied to the investigators. The people did not know that lying to a federal law enforcement officer exposed each person to a criminal conviction, and the potential for up to five years in federal prison. As the civil investigation advanced, the agents questioned people as witnesses, as subjects, and as targets. People had to hire lawyers. When prosecutors threatened to bring criminal charges that could expose them decades in prison, the people began to cooperate in exchange for leniency. I met both James and Mike in federal prison. Both of them told me that had they known the severity of the crime, and the punishments that could follow, they would not have participated. James and Mike told me their perspectives at the time of the crime. When company A purchased a product from company B, and then company A sold a product to company B for the exact same amount, James and Mike believed that it was a wash. They did not see any harm coming from the transaction. They did not consider the viewpoint of government regulators or prosecutors. In the eyes of law enforcement, James and Mike participated in a conspiracy to deceive investors. As such, they violated securities laws. By violating laws, they faced a criminal prosecution. With the government investigation and criminal prosecution, they had to spend millions of dollars in attorney fees. Further, they damaged their professional reputations, they lost their liberty, and they have to live as convicted felons.   Questions to consider: • As the company’s CEO, what level of culpability did James have for the decisions that Mike, Lisa, and Cindy made? • In what ways would knowledge about criminal penalties influence corporate leaders like James, Mike, Lisa, and Cindy? • Who would law enforcement officials identify as victims in the case above? • What type of training could protect a company against decisions like those that James, Mike, Lisa, and Cindy made in the case example above?   During corporate training sessions, it may help for leaders to work through these types of role-playing situations. By helping people understand how government investigations begin, we can go a long way toward helping team members make better decisions. Hopefully, we can also reduce vulnerabilities to government investigations, and also reduce the number of people that face charges for white-collar crime.

Hello to you. My name is Michael Santos and on behalf of everyone on our team, I welcome you. Our websites include PrisonProfessors.com and ComplianceMitigation.com.   We offer services to help people and businesses with risk mitigation and avoiding government investigations.   For those who have been targeted for prosecution, we create mitigation strategies. We help with sentencing and preparations for the journey ahead.   Visit us at either Prison Professors dot com or compliance mitigation dot com. Call or text 949-205-6056.   Episode: 153: Why Every Business Should Invest in Compliance Training   If we ask any group to give us their impression of successful technology companies, we’re likely to hear the following names: • Apple, • Google, • Facebook, • Amazon, and • Microsoft. Many of us would consider the above-mentioned companies as models of excellence. They’re famous for creating trillions of dollars in value, creating millions of jobs, generating billions of dollars in tax revenues, and providing enormous value to consumers. Besides being success stories, the companies share something else in common. Each of the above-mentioned companies has been the subject of a government investigation. Our team at Compliance Mitigation does not make a judgment call with regard to the reasons behind the investigation, or the usefulness that the investigation would serve. Rather, we want more entrepreneurs, business leaders, and team members to understand how government investigations can threaten businesses and careers. The more a person knows, the more equipped a person becomes to make better decisions—hopefully to avoid being brought in as a witness, a subject, or a target of a government investigation. From our perspective: • Business leaders define success by solving problems for customers, bringing value to shareholders, and creating jobs that contribute to vibrant communities. • When investigators begin their task, they define success by obstructing business operations, or complicating the lives of business leaders and the entire teams that they target. Big-government leaders do not limit their attacks to the most successful companies. Elected officials create many government agencies that investigate business operations, business leaders, and people who have decision-making power in businesses. That means even small companies—and leaders of those companies that have decision-making power—are also vulnerable to government investigations and to charges for white collar crimes. For that reason, it makes sense for business leaders to learn about government investigations. That insight can help people involved in businesses both save and make money. You might ask, “How can investing in compliance help a company or people make more money?”  • Compliance is all about transparency. It’s about documenting processes and following best-practice approaches to business. The more we train people how to follow such procedures, the more effective we become at messaging. If we communicate well, we’re more successful at showing the value proposition we offer. How does investing in compliance help a company or an individual save more money? • Investing time and energy to develop effective compliance systems is like an insurance policy. It can lead to lower business insurance costs, and it can lower the enormous risks that business owners and decision makers have to reserve for litigation expenses. Good compliance systems can also lower the risk levels to corporate fraud. Besides saving or making money, investing in ongoing compliance training represents an excellent insurance policy for the company. No company wants to become the subject of a government investigation. They are costly. In many cases, those costs exceed millions of dollars, both for the business and in many cases, for individuals. Investigations, potentially, can obliterate a business and lead to loss of liberty for some people.   Evaluation: In June 2020, the Department of Justice’s Criminal Division updated its Evaluation of Corporate Compliance Programs. Essentially, the government white paper offered guidelines for prosecutors to consider when they deliberated over offering leniency, non-prosecution agreements, or deferred-prosecution agreements to businesses. According to the guidance, prosecutors must question the business as follows: 1. Is the corporation’s compliance well designed? 2. Is the program being applied earnestly and in good faith? In other words, is the program adequately resourced and empowered to function effectively? 3. Does the corporation’s compliance program work in practice? If we know that prosecutors will ask those questions when assessing a business’s compliance program, then business leaders and team members should ask similar questions. By investing time, energy, and resources to understand the importance of compliance, leaders can design a best-practice approach in the design of their compliance training. Large companies may deploy resources to hire white-glove law firms that specialize in risk management. Those law firms may earn millions of dollars in fees by doing a deep dive to understand a company’s operations. They will perform risk assessments to identify potential problems, assessing the regulatory landscape, the potential clients and the business partners, as well as transactions with foreign governments, payments to foreign officials, use of third parties, political contributions, and so forth. Small to mid-size companies may not have the resources to hire such law firms. Yet if they’re doing business, their lack of resources will not make them any less vulnerable to investigations and potential prosecution. In fact, those small- to medium-sized businesses may be easier targets for government investigators. For this reason, all businesses benefit by helping team members learn more about the real-life consequences that followed for people that lost their liberty as a result of government investigations. Such training spreads awareness on the collateral consequences that follow bad decisions made during the course of business. In making people more aware, our team at Compliance Mitigation can lessen risks for individuals, and for businesses that want to show a commitment to minimizing problems with regulators. Companies that want to minimize risk levels would do well to train their team members. As we say at ComplianceMitigation.com, we did the time so you won’t have to.   Corporate Fraud: Internal corporate fraud is an ever-growing problem. Government prosecutors bring charges against thousands of people every month for white collar crimes. Those charges leave businesses vulnerable to ongoing problems, including massive legal fees, large fines, and potentially, criminal liabilities. Management leaders may not have a clear process on how to prevent fraud, or how to respond if they uncover a fraud. We offer this introductory compliance course to assist companies with the following objectives: (i) Help all team members understand the implications of a government investigation, (ii) Identify best practices within corporate operations, and encourage employee compliance, (iii) Improve messaging and corporate storytelling, (iv) Minimize risk to litigation, (v) Teach businesses how to develop a best-practice approach to respond to a government investigation, (vi) Develop a mitigation strategy in the event of a government investigation. We encourage company leaders to use the modules our team at Compliance Mitigation creates to help more people understand the costs and collateral consequences of a government investigation. Strength comes through proper preparation. Members of our team have worked with numerous entrepreneurs that didn’t know their business practices violated regulations, or how their policies could expose them to the enormous costs of litigation or a government investigation. For example, a small business that advertised debt-relief services accepted advance payments from consumers. The business owner hired scores of telemarketers that sold the service. By accepting advance payments from consumers, the business leaders and decisions makers made themselves vulnerable to government investigations. They didn’t understand the Federal Trade Commission’s prohibitions against collecting advance fees.   Nor did they understand how a government investigation could lead to: • litigation, • an asset freeze, and • forfeitures that would cripple their business. Good compliance training helps leaders make better decisions. By investing time to both learn and teach, leaders can create a culture that minimizes exposure to risks in an era of big government. Larger companies have different complications. People become complacent, expecting that they’re operating without risk to regulation or interference from government. Sadly, many rank-and-file employees get dragged into investigations. Their responses to the investigations can bring them into further problems. Our nation’s prison system confines thousands of people that once worked in large companies. Prosecutors convicted those people of white-collar crimes, even though the people professed to be doing their jobs without any knowledge that they were breaking laws. Other people began working in a company with the best of intentions. Yet something happened during the course of the person’s career. Thinking that they could get away with something, they engaged in behavior without fully understanding the consequences. For example, consider the case of David Smith, who faced charges for crimes he committed while on the job as a manager at Quest Diagnostics. David concocted a reimbursement scheme, creating systems that would lead his employer to reimburse him for fraudulent expenses that ran through a complex web of transactions. Smith created fake companies, invoices, and expense reports for payments he’d supposedly made on Quest’s behalf. An internal investigation revealed that Smith had forged his boss’s signature. The internal investigation uncovered losses totaling more than $1.2 million. Quest referred the case to the FBI. A judge sentenced Smith to five years in prison. Beside the financial loss and Smith’s criminal liability, the distraction undermined confidence in Quest Diagnostic’s management team.   Better compliance training serves companies and individuals by: • Broadening an awareness of the consequences that follow white collar crime, • Helping people think before they compromise their values, • Providing transparency into businesses processes, potentially lessening occurrences of internal corporate fraud.   Fraud Triangle: People like David, in the example above, may not set out to engage in fraudulent behavior. Educators identified a “Fraud Triangle” that, theoretically, created a perfect storm for fraud. The three corners of the triangle include: • Opportunity: A person like David Smith had to be in the position that would allow him to create the scheme. If he were not in a managerial position, he would not have been able to initiate the scam. • Pressure: David Smith’s supervisors may have considered him a competent, trustworthy employee. They may not have known pressures he felt in his personal life. • Rationalization: A person like David Smith may think that the company is so big and profitable that no one would even notice the missing funds.   Although hindsight is 20/20, we can always learn from real case studies: • What if Quest Diagnostics invested more resources in its compliance systems? • What if the training systems included lessons on the high costs of corporate fraud, both for the business and for the people that knowingly engage in white-collar crime? • David Smith may have been in a position to commit the fraud, he may have felt pressure, and he may have been able to rationalize his crime. The question remains: would better training have convinced him to act with more integrity? Consider the example of Walt Pavlo, a person who writes a popular column for Forbes online. In January 2001, a federal judge sentenced Walt Pavlo to 41 months in federal prison. The sentence followed Pavlo’s conviction for white-collar crimes that included money laundering, wire fraud, and obstruction of justice. Walt had worked hard to earn an engineering degree and an MBA. Those credentials led to a leadership position at MCI WorldCom, one of the world’s most valuable companies at the turn of the century. In his role as a finance manager, Walt described pressure he felt to report higher revenues than the company earned. The supervisors that oversaw his department wanted to boost WorldCom’s financial performance, likely with pressure from the top. When Walt saw that other leaders entered fraudulent transactions, he felt justified to create his own fraud to enrich himself. Ordinary people may not expect a multi-billion-dollar, global corporation like WorldCom to engage in fraud. Neither would they expect a family man with a professional education to exploit the fraud he discovered—then create his own scam. Members of our team have met and interacted with thousands of people that served time for white-collar crimes. Despite leading or working with companies that had compliance-training manuals, they did not get the message.   Human Stories of Noncompliance and Fraud: To make compliance a part of any corporate culture, leaders should include regular training that includes real-life stories. Those stories will help all team members appreciate the magnitude of problems that come with a government investigation. When leaders and team members grasp the severity of consequences, fewer people will participate in the type of behavior that can increase risk levels for businesses and organizations. As an added bonus, by investing in compliance training that works, businesses and individuals may qualify for leniency or mitigation in the event that investigators begin asking questions. It’s impossible to predict who might commit fraud within an organization. The vast majority of people that engage in white-collar crime do not have criminal histories. Yet as the theory of the fraud triangle suggests: • those people may be in a position to commit fraud; • they may feel pressure that induces them to participate in fraud; • they may rationalize their behavior for any number of reasons. Good training may lower risk levels for businesses and for individuals. Consider statements that our team at Compliance Mitigation found online:  According to Carnegie Mellon University’s report on Insider Fraud in Financial Services, employees working in accounting, operations, sales, upper management, customer service, purchasing, and finance commit 75% of all corporate fraud.  Employers frequently assume that people always act with integrity, even after being hired. Since businesses incentivize managers to focus on meeting targets and goals rather than detecting fraud, commitment to ongoing compliance training frequently suffers.  In a report that Intel published, Grand Theft Data, inside sources cause 42% of all company security breaches. Those security breaches can lead to government investigations and litigation, exposing businesses and individuals to enormous levels of stress.  Corporate fraud represents one of the government’s highest criminal priorities. The FBI estimates that white-collar crime costs Americans more than $300 billion annually. Those crimes run the gamut, from accounting schemes designed to deceive management, investors, auditors, and analysts about the true financial condition of a company, to cases involving fraud on the government and insurers, vendors, and clients.  Government agencies scrutinize telemarketers, brokers, crypto currency businesses, cannabis, financial services, and the healthcare field.  The FBI partners with numerous agencies to capitalize on their experience in specific areas such as securities, taxes, pensions, energy, and commodities. The Bureau has placed greater emphasis on investigating allegations of these frauds, and FBI agents frequently broaden their reach by partnering with other agencies, such as the:  Securities and Exchange Commission  Commodity Futures Trading Commission  Federal Trade Commission  Internal Revenue Service  Department of Labor  Federal Energy Regulatory Commission,  US Postal Service  Secret Service.  The Department of Homeland Security has its own independent mandate to criminally pursue fraud, financial crimes involving blackmail, contract fraud, grant fraud, money laundering, bribery, immigration fraud and program theft.   Government investigations are likely to increase as a result of COVID-19. The CARES Act, subjects companies to additional scrutiny by establishing three new oversight bodies:  (i) the Office of the Special Inspector General for Pandemic Recovery within the Treasury Department;  (ii) the Pandemic Response Accountability Committee, consisting of the IGs for Departments of Defense, Education, Health and Human Services, Homeland Security, Justice, Labor and the Treasury, among others; and  (iii) the Congressional Oversight Commission.  In fact, dozens of cases have already been brought in connection with abuse of the Payroll Protection Program (PPP). The Value Proposition Building a compliance program will protect businesses, shareholders, communities, and individuals. On the surface, the investment may feel like a wasteful expense and hassle. Yet effective compliance programs represent an opportunity to both increase revenues and decrease risk for debilitating costs. They provide an excellent return with peace-of-mind. As an aside, they may pay for themselves in a variety of ways, including: • Eliminating fraud, waste, and theft of company assets • Creating a more inspiring corporate culture with transparency • Opening opportunities for increased efficiencies An effective program will improve internal communications and messaging with prospective customers. Good compliance metrics may also put a company in a good position for a deferred prosecution agreement (DPA), which may avoid total disruption. In these cases, the government brings an action but realizes it needs the assistance of the company itself in order to prove wrongdoing by the individuals involved. For example, federal prosecutors entered into Deferred Prosecution Agreement with Samsung Heavy Industries in 2019. The company agreed to settle matters by paying a fine and cooperating in with the government’s investigation of bribery. The DPA likely saved millions of dollars for shareholders and may have spared some people from going to prison. Maintaining compliance equips employees to do their jobs well, reach career goals, and keep customers happy. To paraphrase Warren Buffet: • It takes five years to grow a reputation, and five minutes to ruin it.   An integrated compliance program becomes a valuable corporate asset. Leverage the compliance training so that people can empower themselves to reach their highest potential. By showing everyone to act in accordance with corporate values, leaders protect the enterprise, the team members, and shareholder value.        

What happens when you find three great storytellers and ask them to share their personal journeys toward a better life, LIVE? You get a nearly two-hour YouTube special that we're going to replay for you right here! The STACK event features the co-author of the classic financial philosophy book Your Money Or Your Life, Vicki Robin, who will talk about her journey learning for herself why finding a different path to financial security was important. We also feature a guy who's story has resonated with many (especially lately after a feature video in the Million Stories series was released), Michael Santos. Michael found himself incarcerated at a young age but not only turned around his own life, he also is passionate and focused on helping others going through trouble turn their lives around. Finally, and kicking off our show, we'll introduce you to Dan Chan, a man who's not only entertained billionaires, but a guy who's had to pivot with his business since COVID-19. How did he go from working at PayPal to chasing his dream? He'll share his journey today! If you'd like to join us for the live, unedited event, where you can ask questions, hang out with other Stackers, and possibly take home one of our participant prizes, sign up for our newsletter, The Stacker, at http://stackingbenjamins.com/stacker. Enjoy!

Listen on this message from Pastor Michael Santos.

In this episode of Impactful Conversations, Michael Santos, a social enterprise and impact investing associate in Morrison & Foerster’s San Francisco office, interviews Bulbul Gupta, the president and CEO of Pacific Community Ventures (PCV), a Community Development Financial Institutions (CDFI) fund based in Oakland, California.

Michael Santos served 26 years in federal prison. Authorities arrested him on August 11, 1987 as a result of his trafficking in cocaine. He completed that sentence on August 12, 2013. In today’s interview, he shares the story of how the decisions he made while in prison contributed to his preparation for a comeback. Among other ventures, Michael hosts the Prison Professors YouTube channel. Through that channel, he provides digital content to teach and inspire people in jail and prison. https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCiWXvA_5bzvOFdbS353Ll-Q?sub_confirmation=1Those who would like to receive copies of Michael’s books can order those books at the following link:https://prisonprofessors.com/books-and-courses/Use the promo code BEK to get a 15% discount on all orders. Links to other platforms:YouTube Video HighlightsYouTube Full Video EpisodesApple PodcastiHeart Radio SoundcloudSpotifyGoogle PodcastPodbean Instagram (The Comeback Team)Twitter Page Instagram (Bek Lover)

The Perez Brother's, Derek & Gene from Belen New Mexico join Mika Frankl to talk about their upcoming Bare Knuckle MMA fights for Sparta Sports & Entertainment in Cheyenne Wyoming, on August 15th. Gene faces Michael Santos in the main event while Derek meets Andy Perez, no relation, in the co-main event. We talk about the fights and how different is MMA without the gloves. We also discuss how they've been effected by the pandemic and how their handling the situation. Website: www.cagedminds.com Facebook: Caged Minds Combat Sports News Twitter: @CagedMindsMMA IG: @cagedminds_csn

Michael Santos helps others through the court, sentencing and prison.  He using his experience of spending 26 years in prison, to help people reduce their sentences, gain confidence and strength and develop new careers. We also discuss the war on drugs, George Floyd and police violence

In this episode of Impactful Conversations, Michael Santos, a social-enterprise- and impact-investing associate in Morrison & Foerster’s San Francisco office, interviews Rodney Foxworth, the CEO of Common Future. Based in Oakland, California, Common Future tackles wealth inequality nation-wide by focusing on the needs of communities that have been the most negatively impacted by injustice, extraction, and exploitation. To address the wealth gap, Rodney and Common Future are committed to confronting the structural oppression that leaves many communities out by shifting capital towards community investment. Common Future envisions an economy owned by people of all races and ethnicities. Rodney believes in having communities assume a position “as not just a stakeholder but as a literal shareholder that is able to voice an opinion, has a vote, and is able to influence and determine what types of businesses and enterprises and economic development projects are invested in,” says Rodney. “That is power.”

Earning Freedom: Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term by Michael Santos   Chapter 15.3 *******      It’s Wednesday, April 18, 2012 and I received the most amazing book during mail call.  It’s so impressive, The Oxford Handbook of Sentencing and Corrections, edited by Professor Joan Petersilia, who is the Adelbert H. Sweet Professor of Law at Stanford Law School, and Kevin R. Reitz, who is the James Annenberg La Vea Professor of Criminal Procedure at the University of Minnesota Law School.  The 764-page book includes contributions from many authors who wrote individual chapters on various subjects pertaining to sentencing and corrections in America’s massive prison system.  My face beams with pride when I turn to chapter 25 and I see the words I wrote more than three years ago, describing the life I’ve lived since 1987. I don’t know how to describe the honor I feel that Professor Petersilia invited me to write about my experiences.  I’m a prisoner, after all, and yet by including my work I’m in the company of some of the world’s leading scholars who hold distinguished positions in some of the world’s leading universities.  To show my appreciation, I will read each chapter and publish a review to describe what I learned from those who contributed. There isn’t anyone here with whom I can share my joy, but inside, I feel a liberating gratification, giving me a sense that some meaning has come from this long journey.  It’s a journey that is coming to an end, as I have news that I’m scheduled to transition from the Atwater federal prison camp to the San Francisco halfway house on August 13, 2012. ******* It’s July 1, 2012, the last full month that I’m going to serve in federal prison.  I have 9,091 days of prison behind me, only 44 days of prison ahead.  From the beginning I’ve been exercising very hard, but I’ve been waiting for this month for decades, always intending to exercise harder during my final month than ever before.  After all, it’s the last full month in my life that I’ll have to focus exclusively on exercise.  I’m determined to run 500 miles during the month.  In addition, I’ll do 10,000 pushups and 4,000 dips. The intense workout will quell this steady surge of anticipation that has been building for months. Carole has already made the move to Lee’s guesthouse and she secured a job at a Bay area hospital.  As crazy as it may sound, I know that my life is one of many blessings, but more than anything else, I cherish the relationship I’ve built with my wife.  We’re both indescribably excited about the prospects of building our lives together.  Despite the love, enthusiasm, and anticipation inside of me, however, I have a measure of anxiety as well. For 25 years I’ve been a prisoner, living in the midst of men, strangers.  Privacy has not been a part of my life.  I don’t know how to eat with metal silverware or off of ceramic plates.  I’ve not had a drink from a glass since 1987, nor have I taken a shower without wearing flip-flops.  We’re in our 10th year of marriage, but my wife and I have only known each other under the bright lights of prison visiting rooms, always under the watchful eyes of vigilant prison guards. I don’t have any idea about the magnitude of change that is about to come my way, but I know that it’s coming.  Running these long distances helps to dissipate the anxiety, but I can’t help thinking about how I’ll react to the changes that are about to come.  I don’t worry about earning a living or financial matters, as I’ve prepared well for those challenges. My anxieties are of a more primal nature.  For instance, I dwell for hours at a time about how I’m going to muster the courage to poop in front of my wife.  Will she kick me out of bed if she hears me pass gas?  I don’t have any idea on how I’m going to handle these complexities of domesticity, but I know that I can count on Carole to help me.  She just doesn’t yet know the worries that I have. I wonder what’s going through her mind.  For years she’s lived as a prisoner’s wife, with visiting rooms being our living room, bedroom, and kitchen.  She has been very protective of her time with me, and yet it has been only an abbreviated time.  Now, in a matter of days, all of that will change.  Carole has begun making purchases to ease my initial transition.  She bought us matching iPhones, clothing and hygiene supplies that I’m going to need.  We’re coordinating events with family, as my sisters, mother, and grandmother want to visit.  They’ve been waiting for 25 years to welcome me home, but my release is complicated by three factors:   I’m being released to San Francisco and my family lives in other cities;   I’m not really going home, but to a halfway house; and     I don’t know what restrictions the halfway house is going to place on me.   With all of those complications, I’m asking my mom and sisters to let me spend the initial weeks with Carole.  Before receiving visits, I need to settle with her and understand more about this transition into society and what it truly means to live as a husband.  I want to receive my driver’s license, to begin reporting to work, and to complete whatever demands the halfway house makes upon residents as a condition of increased liberties.  I expect that I’ll need 90 days to settle.   *******   It’s 2:00 am on Monday, August 13, 2012.  Today is the day, the 9,135th day that I’m waking on a prison rack.  It’s also the last.  I climb down and dress in my exercise gear.  I take my cup of instant coffee and walk into the center of the housing unit, where I sit alone in the dark.  It’s been 25 years and two days since my arrest, and in a few short hours I’m scheduled to walk outside of these fences.  Why, I wonder, does society equate this particular amount of time with the concept of justice?  In what ways did the quarter century I served contribute to community safety? As I look around and see all the other prisoners sleeping, the only answer I can come up with is that society wanted to punish me for the laws I broke when I was in my early 20s. I’m now 48 and I don’t even remember much about those crimes, as the length of time that I served gradually squeezed those details out of my memory and consciousness.  The punishment felt severe with my arrest and trial and sentencing.  But as the weeks turned into months, and the months turned into years, I turned all of my attention toward those three principled steps that were going to guide me through my journey:   I made a commitment to educate myself; I made a commitment to contribute to society in measurable ways; and I made a commitment to build a strong support network.   That strategy, I hoped, would help redeem the bad decisions of my reckless youth and help me reconcile with society.  As the years passed, however, I lost sight of the fact that society was punishing me. Prison became the only life that I knew. Is a man still being punished if he doesn’t even know it?      By the time I earned my master’s degree in 1995, I felt as ready to live as a contributing member of society as I ever would.  That was 17 years ago, but our system of justice didn’t have a mechanism in place to encourage individuals to work toward earning freedom. As Shakespeare suggested in his play A Merchant from Venice, the system wanted its pound of flesh.  Regardless of what efforts an individual made to atone, in our system of justice, all that mattered was the turning of a sufficient number of calendar pages. As of today, 300 calendar pages have turned since my initial arrest.  And in a few more hours, I’m going to walk outside of these gates, where I’ll see Carole waiting. It’s 4:00 am and I begin my exercise, first with strength training, knocking out 50 sets of pushups.  Then I begin my run.  In July I set a goal of running 500 miles.  With focus and persistence I blasted through that goal, hitting 700 miles that included eight back-to-back marathons during the month.  I’ve now exercised for 1,340 days without a single day of rest, but what new routines will begin tomorrow?  Many years ago I read What Got You Here Won’t Get You There, a book by Marshall Goldsmith, a business strategist. The book made an impression on me then, and it seems particularly relevant to me now, as I finish running my 12th and final mile around a prison track.  I’m opening my mind to the reality that I’m going to have to change the rigid and precise tactics that have carried me through prison.  But I’ll never relinquish my commitment to living a principled, deliberate, strategic life.  I don’t know how I’m going to have to change, but I’m open to the changes that will come when I walk outside of these prison gates.   *******   It’s 7:00 am and I’m walking alone, steadying my thoughts.  I tried to use the telephone but my account has been disabled, confirming that my time in prison is ending.  I see a long line of men waiting to enter the chow hall for breakfast and I feel the many eyes upon me; I feel their energy, good wishes from them, but I need this time alone.  I walk into the chapel for solitude and I pray in gratitude, thanking God for protecting me through the journey, asking for guidance as I take the next steps home. “Michael Santos,” I hear the announcement.  “Number 16377-004.  Report with all your property to the rear gate.” I’m carrying my copy of The Oxford Handbook of Sentencing and Corrections, but I’ve given everything else away.  I leave the camp and walk toward the gate at the rear of the penitentiary.  A guard comes toward me from inside the gate and he crosses through.  He calls me forward and asks a few questions to confirm my identity, and it’s as simple as that.  We walk through a processing area and I see that it’s 8:48, which is coincidentally the same number as the criminal code for the crime I committed.  Another guard fingerprints and photographs me.  Two other guards ask me more questions to confirm my identity.  And that’s it.  We walk through penitentiary corridors, and across an area that leads me into a lobby. I turn right around a corner, where I meet other guards.  They hand over funds from my commissary account and authorize me to cross over to the other side, where Carole, my lovely wife waits, her elbows to her side, tears flowing down her cheeks, prayer hands pressed close to her mouth as she stares in disbelief as I walk out of the penitentiary and into the embrace of her arms. At last, at last.         Epilogue:     When we walk out, Carole hands me an iPhone. I’d never seen a smart phone before. When I put the device next to my ear, I didn’t hear a dial tone.   “It’s not working,” I told her.   Carole laughed.   The world had changed during the 9,135 days that I’d been a prisoner. Although I’d read about technology, I hadn’t ever sent an email. Although I had a website since the dawn of the Internet, I’d never accessed the Internet. I’d never made a YouTube video, or used any of the technology that the world took for granted.   I intended to learn.   I sat in the passenger seat as Carole drove me from the prison in Atwater to a halfway house in San Francisco. We had more privacy on that drive than we’d ever had during our first 10 years of marriage. It was the first time we sat together outside of a guard’s presence. And yet rules limited our time together. If I didn’t make it to the halfway house within the three-hour timeframe I’d been given, I’d begin my time in there on the wrong foot.   Carole drove steadily while I feasted on a pizza she brought me.   When we came out of the Central Valley and crossed the Bay Bridge, I saw the San Francisco Skyline.   “Within five years,” I told Carole, “I’ll build my first $1 million in assets.”   Carole shook her head. By then she understood my ambition, my quest to overcome obstacles. “You need to relax, take a breath. Get to know the world.”   “It’s go time,” I told her. “For 25 years I’ve been held down. I’m ready. We’re ready. I’ll work harder out here than I’ve ever worked before. We’ll figure it out together. I can’t wait for life to unfold. We’ve got to make life happen.”   I settled into the halfway house and immediately began working. As I had learned in prison, I would need a deliberate, disciplined strategy to grow.   Step 1: Define success Step 2: Create a plan Step 3: Set priorities Step 4: Execute the plan   As in prison, I adhered to the same principle of moving forward toward my goal with a 100% commitment. First step would be to get a driver’s license. I needed to be mobile. Then, I had to consider strengths and weaknesses.   With regard to strengths, I had a positive mindset. I understood that I had faced the challenge of a quarter century in prison. Yet as planned, I returned strong, with my dignity intact. I could leverage that strength to carve out new opportunities.   But I also understood my weaknesses. As a result of prolonged imprisonment, I’d never held a job, never built a workforce or managed employees. My strength was in a strong work ethic, being self-directed, and being relentless in pursuit of my goals. I had to leverage those strengths, turn them into assets that would become more valuable over time. I used my time in the halfway house to the best of my ability, investing hours to learn how to use technology, to understand the Internet.   The economy was still weak in August of 2012. Our country had been in a deep recession for several years. With my liberty, it all felt right. Unbridled optimism blinded me to risks. I believed the economy would improve, and I wanted to participate. In my mind, the best way to participate would be to acquire appreciating assets.   During those first days in the halfway house, I began engineering a plan to make my first real estate acquisition. Despite having a zero-zero-zero credit score, I persuaded a successful real estate developer to provide 100% financing on the purchase of a new house in the San Francisco Bay area. I hadn’t been in the halfway house for a full month when I had a deal under contract. That deal would become the start of many others.   Preparations from prison resulted in scores of opportunities opening. By the time I finished with the halfway house, and with the Bureau of Prisons, after 9,500 days, San Francisco State University offered me a position to become an adjunct professor. With permission from my probation officer, I traveled across the United States to lecture in universities.   Sponsorship from the California Wellness Foundation allowed me to develop a curriculum to teach the values-based, goal-oriented strategies that I learned from other leaders. Together with my partner, Justin Paperny, we distributed those concepts to jails, prisons, and schools across America.   Such lessons prepared me for success through struggle. To the extent that others adhered to those same principles, I felt confident they too would thrive. For centuries, leaders had been living in accordance with self-directed plans:   Define success Set clear goals Move forward with a 100% commitment to success Visualize the outcome Take the incremental action steps Create accountability metrics Be aware of opportunities Live authentically and honestly Celebrate incremental achievements Show appreciations for the blessings in life   By documenting those strategies that I learned from leaders, opportunities opened. As a direct result of the seeds that I sowed during imprisonment, I could persuade other people to believe in me. I would challenge business leaders to use their discretion and invest with me. They could look upon the record I built. By staying focused and disciplined while growing through a quarter century in prison, I argued that I was well prepared to prosper in society. Rather than judging me as a man with a zero-zero-zero credit score, I invited them to support efforts I would make to build, grow, and contribute to the making of a better society. That strategy paid off. Within five years of the conclusion of my sentence, by August of 2018, I controlled more than $5 million in assets, and built equity of more than $3 million.   Then, a lawsuit from an agency of the federal government resulted in the loss of all those assets.   For that story, how I litigated through it, and how I worked to recover and build millions more, you’ll need to get the next book—which I’m writing now. Visit MichaelSantos.com for an update.   The one promise I make is that I’ll never ask anyone to do anything that I haven’t done, or that I’m not doing. Regardless of what businesses or opportunities I create, I intend to continue creating resources to teach and inspire people in jails and prisons. We all must live in the world as it exists. That means we must accept that problems will surface as a result of our criminal backgrounds. We must succeed anyway.   By living the values-based, goal-oriented strategy that I learned from leaders, I’m paying it forward, trying to prove worthy of the guidance and inspiration I got from Socrates. His wisdom inspired me while I was still locked in the Pierce County Jail, before a judge sentenced me to 45 years. Since then, I’ve been striving to “be the change that I want to see in the world,” just as Gandhi advised us all to live.   Stay focused, stay deliberate.   Earn freedom! May 1, 2020    

Earning Freedom: Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term, by Michael Santos Running, getting ready for release. Transferring to Atwater and getting ready for release.   It’s Christmas, 2010, my 24th Christmas morning as a federal prisoner.  I’ve now served eight thousand, five hundred, and thirty-nine days, but today is a very special day and I’m excited to call my wife.  For the first time that I can remember, I’ll be giving her a magnificent surprise. I’ve been awake since 2:17, writing her a letter while I wait for the phones to turn on.  Now it’s nearly six and I expect to hear a dial tone soon. She received the envelope that I sent her, but we agreed that she would not open it until I called her this morning.  While waiting for the phone to turn on, I’ve been writing a letter to her, describing the joy that I feel at crossing into 2011.  We will begin making final plans for my release from prison, my return to society, and I am ready. “Merry Christmas honey,” she answers my call at precisely 6:01 am.” “Merry Christmas.  Are you ready to leave?”  Carole’s driving up to Taft for a visit this morning and I want to make sure that leaves on time so that she arrives as soon as the visiting room opens at 8:00 am. “I’m ready.  Can I open the envelope now?” “Do you promise you haven’t opened it yet honey?” “I told you I wouldn’t.” “Okay precious.  Merry Christmas.  You can open it now.” I wait, listening to her slice open the envelope.  “Be careful, my love, you won’t want to slice what’s inside.” “What is it?” I hear her giggle.  “Oh my God!  It’s a check for $45,000.” “That’s for us honey, to help start our life when I come home to you.  I want you to set that aside so that we don’t have any financial stress when I walk out of here to you.” “But we’ve already saved enough money.  How did you do that?” “I work hard for you, my love.  You’re my inspiration and nothing fulfills me more than to think that I’m providing for you, making your life better.  It’s the only way that I can feel like a man rather than a prisoner.” Whenever I earn financial resources from prison, whether it’s through a writing fee or a stock trade, I derive an enormous sense of gratification.  This environment is designed to crush the human spirit.  Prisoners are supposed to go home broken, without financial resources, without a support network, destitute.  Yet despite the quarter century that I’m serving, I’m going to walk out of here strong, stable.  My wife has earned her credentials as a registered nurse.  She has secured a job at Cottage Hospital in Santa Barbara and expects to earn $80,000 per year.  Besides that income, men who know the value of work have paid me well, sufficiently to have supported my wife through what others would construe as incomprehensible struggle.  After all of those expense, we’ve managed to build an after-tax savings account that now exceeds $100,000. Having achieved these goals from within prison boundaries magnifies the delight I feel. ******* It’s April 12 of 2011 and I have to make a decision.  My release date is scheduled for August 12, 2013.  I have 284 months behind me and a maximum of only 28 more months of prison ahead of me. But I know that I won’t serve a full 28 months.  Some complications surround my release date because I have that sliver of parole eligibility.  It’s strange.  My case is so old that I’m one of the few prisoners remaining in the federal system that qualifies for an initial parole hearing.  By my calculations, members of the U.S. Parole Commission have the discretion to release me as soon as February of 2013, in only 22 more months. That doesn’t tell the whole story.  Besides the parole date, I qualify for up to 12 months of halfway house time.  If I were to receive the February 2013 parole date, I could transfer to a halfway house as soon as February of 2012, in only 10 more months.  But even in the unlikely event that the U.S. Parole Commission declined to grant me parole, I’m eligible to transfer to a halfway house 12 months before my scheduled release date, which would be in August of 2012.  That means release should come for me somewhere between 10 and 16 months from today. I need to decide where Carole and I are going to make our home.  We don’t have roots anywhere.  It feels as if we’re going to be hatched in society.  Carole’s children, Michael and Nichole are grown and building lives of their own in Washington state.  She has agreed to let me choose where we should start our life together.  I’m thinking about what city would be best. My sister Julie lives in Seattle, and that’s an obvious possibility.  Both Carole and I grew up in Seattle, but after 25 years, we don’t have a home anywhere.  My younger sister, Christina, lives in Miami, which is another possibility we’ve discussed as a potential starting point.  My mother lives in Los Angeles with my grandmother, and in light of the foundation that my friend Justin established, we’re thinking about LA as well. “The reality, honey,” I tell my wife during a visit, “is that we’re both going to be 48 years old when I walk out of here in the next 10 to 16 months.  We’ll only have 12 years before we’re 60.  Just as the decisions that I made early in my prison term played a pivotal, influential role in my journey, these decisions I make going forward are going to have an enormous influence on where we’re going to be when we’re 60.” “That’s why I want you to choose, where we go.” Carole holds my hand during our visit.  It’s the only physical contact we’ve ever had during our entire marriage, but that life of celibacy is coming to an end. “As long as I’m with you, I don’t care where we go.” “What’s most important to me is that I go to the city where I have the best opportunity to earn an income and bring stability to our life.” “As a registered nurse, I can get a job anywhere.  And we have enough savings to give you that stability.  You should arrange your release to wherever you want to go.  How about Santa Barbara?” “The market is too small, honey.  As I see it, we have three choices.  We can choose Los Angeles, we can choose San Francisco, or we can choose New York.  I need to be in a big city.” “But how will you start in New York or San Francisco?  We don’t know anyone there.” “Geoff is in New York and Lee is in San Francisco. Both of them would help us if I asked.”  I remind her of my friend Geoff Richstone, the cardiologist from New York and my friend Lee Nobmann, the lumber baron of Northern California. “You choose, honey.  Wherever you want to go, I’m with you.” ******* I’m waiting on the track at Taft camp on Friday morning, April 22, 2011.  My friend Lee Nobmann is flying in for a visit today and his pilot will land the private jet, a Cessna Citation, at Taft’s airport.  I see the blinding spotlight as it approaches and then I hear the roar of the engines.  It’s a magnificent airplane, a sign of Lee’s business brilliance and the successful company he built in Golden State Lumber.  Carole is picking him up at the airport. “It’s good to see,” I say when I walk into the visiting room.  He is a great man and a great friend. I tell Lee about the dilemma I’m facing with regard to which city I should choose to launch my life.  While we dine on vending machine hamburgers, he listens to the different options I present and to the plans I have for building a career around all that I’ve learned as a federal prisoner. “Do you really want to be talking about your experiences in federal prison for the rest of your life?  I’ve got to tell you,” he says, “no one in the real world is really going to care anything about prison.  Why don’t you come work with me?  I could always use a man with your intensity and I’ve got the perfect spot for you in a real estate development company that my kids are running.” I have enormous respect for Lee. He isn’t only an extraordinarily successful businessman, employing several hundred people, but he’s also genuinely happy, with a loving marriage that has spanned four decades and great relationships with his children.  When he extends an offer for me to work with him, it’s an offer that I have to consider. “If that’s what you think would be best for me,” I tell him, “then that’s what I’m going to do.  But I’m passionate about this idea I have of building a business around all that I’ve learned.  There aren’t many people who’ve sustained a high level of discipline and focus through a quarter century of adversity.  I’m confident that I can find a market for products and services I intend to create around that journey.” Lee leans back and looks at me.  He has blue, penetrating eyes, white hair, and looks every bit the self-made man that he is.  I admire him immensely and I aspire to earn his respect.  It’s as if I’m always auditioning for him, trying to prove worthy of the trust he places in me with his friendship. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” he settles it.  “Tell your case manager here that you’re going to relocate to the Bay area.  I’ve got a fully furnished guesthouse on my property.  You won’t need anything at all.  It has everything, including towels, silverware, even a coffee pot.  Use that as your release address.  You and Carole can stay there for a year without any cost.  One of my companies will employ you for a year so that you can earn an income while you build your business.  If it doesn’t work out, then you come work with me.” With Lee’s generosity, my decision becomes easy.  As he would say, it’s a no brainer.  Our home is going to be in the city by the Bay, a city I’ve never visited before. ******* It’s Wednesday, April 27th, 2011 and I’m sitting on a bench with my friend Greg Reyes.  We’re reviewing edits I’ve been making to the manuscript that describes his life and he turns to me with a peculiar question.  “Do you think you could run a marathon?” I’ve run every day without a single day of rest since Saturday, December 13, 2008.  During the 866 days that have passed since then, I’ve run 7,795 miles.  The strict accountability logs that I keep give me a clear indication of where I am.  I’ve averaged more than nine miles every day, but I’ve never been inclined to run a marathon distance of 26.2 miles.  The longest distance I’ve ever run has been 20 miles, and I’ve done that about a half dozen times.  I’m not a natural athlete, but running is an exercise of will, and these 8,661 days of imprisonment have given me a strong determination. “Anyone can run a marathon, I tell Greg.  But what’s the point?” “I’d like to run one before I get out.” Like my friend Lee, Greg is the type of man who clearly defines goals, and then he puts a deliberate course of action in place to achieve them.  As I do with Lee, I feel as if I’m always auditioning for Greg’s respect.  Since prison consumed more of my life than I lived outside, I need these tests to feel as I can carry my own around guys who’ve truly succeeded. “Then let’s run one this weekend,” I say. Greg laughs.  “You’re too much.  We’ve got to train for running a marathon.  Every book I’ve read talks about a strict training regimen, increasing distances in incremental levels.” Greg walked into prison weighing 252 pounds.  Besides working together on writing his life story, we set a disciplined exercise regimen in place.  He wasn’t a runner before, but he has run alongside me on several occasions and he’s lost more than 60 pounds during the eight months that he’s served.  He now has a chiseled physique. “That’s ridiculous, Greg.  We can do it.  Those books aren’t for people like you.  Running is all in your mind.  Let’s just do it.” “You’re nuts.”  He laughs.  “I’ve got four months left to serve.  Let’s just set a training plan in place and get to one marathon distance before I go.” “Look we can do this,” I tell him.  “But let’s start by running 20 miles on Saturday.” “I’ve never run longer than 10 miles in my life,” he says.  “I’m not running 20 miles on Saturday.” “You may not have run more than 10 miles,” I tell him.  “But you can run that routinely now and you run much faster than I do.  Without a doubt, you can run 15 miles.  Let’s set our mind to that.  You’ll see.  It’s no big deal.  Then we’ll run 20 miles on the next Saturday.” He agrees and on Saturday, April 30th, we run through 15 miles as if it isn’t anything.  On Saturday May 7th, we meet on the track with a joint commitment of running 20 miles. Greg may not have run before he surrendered to serve his sentence but he has developed into a strong runner.  We run around a dusty dirt track, and since he goes at faster pace, he laps me numerous times.  He paces alongside me at the 18-mile mark and asks how I’m feeling. “I feel great.  How ‘bout you?” “I’m okay.” “You know,” I remind him, “we’re in May now.  Every day going forward will bring hotter temperatures here in Taft. If you feel up to it, I think we should just knock out the full marathon distance today and be done with it.  What do you think?” “Let’s get through the 20 and see how we feel.” At 20 miles he is still lapping me.  He finishes his first marathon distance in four hours and 14 minutes; it takes me 15 minutes longer to complete the 26.2-mile distance. We celebrate with a good meal that my roommate prepares for us.  He’s elated at the accomplishment, as he should be. “I’ve got to tell you, what you’ve done today is really impressive,” I tell him. “We both did it,” he says. “Well, it’s not quite the same,” I say.  “What do you mean?  We ran the same distance.” “True, but you’ve only been running for a few months and you knocked out a marathon.  I’ve been running for longer than 20 years.  I don’t even feel tired.” “Then run another one.” “That’s what I was thinking,” I said.  “I’m going to.” “Are you nuts? I was only kidding,” he tells me.  “You’ve got to let your body heal.” I shrug.  “Yeah, I don’t think so.  I don’t even feel as if I’ve done anything.  Next time, I’m going to run a double marathon.” “You’re crazy.” “Seriously, I can do it.  I could totally do it.” “When?” “I was thinking that I’ll run it on Wednesday.” “On Wednesday of this week?  That’s ridiculous.” “Do you want to run it with me?” I ask him. “No, I don’t.  I’m not running 52 miles.  Don’t you think that’s a little excessive?” “I can do it.” “Then go for it.” On Wednesday, May 11th, I wake early and I’m eager to set out for the run.  I have a plan.  I’ll start at 6:00, when the track opens, and I’ll run for four hours.  By 10:00 I’ll knock out the first 24 miles.  Then I’ll return to the housing unit for the census count.  After that clears, I’ll return to the track and run another 16 miles, bringing me to 40 miles.  At the slow pace I intend to run, I expect that stretch will last about three hours.  Then I’ll return to the housing unit for the afternoon census and a shower.  I’ll go back to the track after the count and knock out the final 12.4 miles. “You’re a maniac.” Greg meets me on the track when I’m on the final stretch.  Temperatures are still in the 90s and he passes me a bottle of Gatorade. “I’ve got this,” I tell him.  “Only one more mile.” It takes me nine hours and 40 minutes, but I finish, reaching my goal. “What’re you going to do next?” Greg asks. “I thought about that during the run,” I tell him.  “I’ve got three marathons in now.  By the end of this year, I’ll run 50 marathons.” He laughs.  “There’s something wrong with you,” he says.  “You’re crazy.” “I’m going to do it.” ******* ******* It’s December 31st, 2011 and I’m now in the Atwater federal prison camp, with 8,909 days of prison behind me.  As far as exercise goals are concerned, it’s been an extraordinary year.  My fitness log shows that it’s been 1,114 days since I’ve taken a day off from running.  During that stretch, I’ve logged 10,773 miles.  Over the course of 2011, the log shows that I ran 4,073 miles, including 55 marathon distances, 98,500 pushups, with 857.3 total hours of exercise.  I intend to push myself harder in 2012. Carole and I transferred to Atwater on October 3, knowing that it would be our last prison town as I prepare for my release to the San Francisco Bay area.  As a privately run facility, the Taft camp could not handle the complicated issues of parole and extended halfway house possibilities.  When authorities determined that a Bureau of Prisons facility should oversee my return to society, I asked for Atwater. Carole settled a few miles away in Merced and she has a job as a registered nurse at Mercy Medical Center, her second job in a major hospital.  We’re counting down the days, expecting that my case manager will provide some guidance with regard to my release date soon. I expect this system to release me before Halloween, but to keep my mind from dwelling on that which is beyond my ability to control, I work toward some clearly defined goals.  The first is helping my friend Andris Pukke (pronounced ‘On-dris Puck-y’).  Like Lee and Greg, Andris built an awesome business.  He launched a credit counseling and debt consolidation company from his living room while advancing through his senior year at the University of Maryland.  Under Andris’ leadership, that company, branded as Ameridebt, grew to more than 250,000 customers.  It became so profitable that Bear Sterns offered to purchase it for more than $100,000,000 before Andris celebrated his 35th birthday.  I spend several hours each day with Andris, asking questions that help me write his biography. Andris’ story strengthens my resolve to write about lessons I’ve learned from exceptional businessmen.  Many business leaders served time alongside me despite their never having had any inclination that decisions they were making could expose them to troubles with the law.  Speaking and writing about what I’ve learned could bring more awareness to the dangers of doing business in America today.  Indeed, people I’ve met in prison convince me that business decisions can lead to imprisonment, even when there isn’t any criminal intent or efforts to self-enrich at the expense of others.  Prosecution of white-collar crime is the new frontier of America’s criminal justice system, and I have some unique insight that can help others understand the subject. Andris is the fourth man I met in prison who has built a hugely successful business.  In working with him to write his story, I’m able to push out thoughts about my imminent release.  It’s important now, during these final months, to focus on work.  Otherwise, the combination of excitement and anticipation could derail me.  As it always has, work and focus on goals carries me through. Andris is released on March 30, 2012.  That’s it.  He is the last friend I expect to make in prison.  I’ll serve the rest of this time alone, expecting that I’ll walk out of here before October.

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.” *******

Earning Freedom: Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term, by Michael Santos Episode 14.2 Months 233-266: Life in Taft Federal Prison camp with Justin Paperny and teaching and writing for Joan Petersilia ******* It’s June 11, 2008. I stand in front of 30 other people who are serving time with me in Taft. We’re sitting sitting under dim lights on cushioned chairs in the corner of an industrial warehouse. It’s one of the few buildings at Taft Camp without air conditioning. The summer heat, together with swarms of flies, keeps us pulling at our shirts and swatting air. We’re here because it’s the only room large enough to facilitate a series of self-help classes that I enjoy teaching. The warehouse has high ceilings with exposed pipes, wiring, and metal walls supported by thick steel beams. If it had a grass floor, the space would be sufficient for indoor football. But the floor is concrete. Except for the niche carved out for our class area, we see stacks of wheelchairs in various stages of repair. My roommate, David, is part of a crew that spends several hours each day refurbishing the wheelchairs for donation to Wheels of the World, a prison-sponsored program that serves needy communities. Prisoners, even those in camp, struggle with their separation from society. Motivating men who worry about the challenges that await them, who wonder daily about their wives, about their children, about how they will find employment upon release, or about how to muster the strength to pass through years of imprisonment, requires preparation. By this time, the summer of 2008, I’ve had 21 years of preparation. I get a sense of fulfillment by teaching strategies, tactics, and concepts that have helped my adjustment through the journey. I always start by asking questions, like asking the men to define what it means to live as a successful prisoner. Or their interpretation of the best possible outcome for someone serving a prison sentence. One person tells me that a successful person in prison is    someone who doesn’t receive any disciplinary infractions. I use a blue felt pen to write his answer on the whiteboard. Another person tells me it’s someone who can hold onto his family while in prison. Other responses include a person who educates himself. Or a guy that manages to hang on to at least some resources in the world so that when he gets out, he has a shot at making a new star. After writing answers on the board, I walk into the center of the crowd and face the board. I point out how prison administrators love to hear such responses, and I ask Mr. Moreland, the staff member sits in the back of the class, his thoughts. He confirms that they’re good answers. “Good answers, Mr. Moreland says,” I repeat loud enough so everyone will hear. “But I’d give each answer a C-minus at best, and I’m being generous,” I say. Men shift silently in their chairs and the supervising staff member puts down his candy bar. I have their attention. “Those answers reflect the common response of all prisoners across the nation. But they’re not enough. To be a successful prisoner requires you to do more.” I walk toward the board and check off the class responses as I work through each. —“Instead of focusing on avoiding disciplinary infractions, a successful person selects positive activities that will contribute to success upon release. —“He doesn’t only hold on to his family, a successful person works daily to strengthen family bonds and to contribute in meaningful ways to his family. —“He not only educates himself, but a successful person uses what he learns to enrich himself and society. —“He not only hangs on to resources, but creates new resources that will assure he leaves prison strong, with absolute certainty that he will succeed upon release. “The key to a successful prison experience is to envision clearly how you want to emerge. Don’t limit yourself to the minimum, but envision the best possible outcome, and use that vision as a beacon to make certain that every step leads you closer to the outcome you choose.” “But prison blocks us from doing things like that,” Tim, one of the class participants objects. “How are we supposed to contribute to our families when we’re not allowed to earn an income?” Over the next ten weeks I engage the class, drawing on my experiences to inspire them to create their own successful life plans. “Success does not materialize by accident,” I emphasize, “but through deliberate actions.” In each session I challenge the men to accept full responsibility for their lives and to focus on what they can accomplish rather than the obstacles that limit them. Justin Paperny, a white-collar offender who reported to Taft Camp in the late spring of 2008, becomes the most enthusiastic participant in my class. Justin graduated from the University of Southern California, then he went on to build a career as a young stockbroker. Indiscretion with his oversight of a hedge fund led to Justin’s 18-month sentence for securities law violations. “The thing is,” Justin comments from his seat in the center of the class, “some of us might have to start over completely when we leave here. Our convictions mean that we can’t return to the same professions. With this dismal economy, it’s tough to stay motivated when we know what we’re facing outside.” “That’s a good start,” I respond. “It shows that you understand what’s ahead. Since you’ve thought about those issues, may I ask you a few questions?” He shrugs. “Go ahead.” “You’ve been here for a month now,” I observe. “Tell the class how your life differs today from the day you surrendered.” “What do you mean?” “How is your life different?” I press. “That’s not such a tough question.” He laughs. “Well, it’s obvious. I’m a prisoner and I’m serving the sentence my judge imposed.” “Well, we’re all in prison. But what have you been doing with your time since you surrendered a month ago?” “Oh, I’ve got you,” he says. “Mostly I’ve been exercising. I’ve dropped 10 pounds and I’m getting stronger with pull-ups. While I’m here I intend to exercise regularly, to get back into great physical shape.” “Who in here is exercising?” I ask the class. Most hands shoot up. “Excellent. I get the importance of exercise and I run every day. But exercise only takes up a small part of the day. It’s only one part, like brushing my teeth. I exercise to stay fit, but one certainty I can count on is that no one is going to pay me for how many pushups I can do, or how many miles I can run when I get out of here. Unless you’re planning for a career as a fitness model or a personal trainer, I suggest you devote more time to preparing to conquer the obstacles that you know await you.” “But what else can I do?” Justin asks. That’s the question each man in prison must answer for himself every day. A successful person in prison would know how to answer. The answer for one person isn’t going to be the same response that another prisoner gives. If employment prospects await, if family relationships are important, or if we need to educate ourselves further, we should know how to answer the question: What else can I do to prepare? When we live that way, we never stumble when someone asks a question such as ‘How is your life different?’ We don’t stumble because we’re on the course we charted for success, as we define success. “What if we don’t know what we want to do?” Charles asks. He’s a middle-aged, disbarred lawyer from Newport Beach serving a two-year sentence for misappropriating funds from his client’s trust account. “Are any of you familiar with Viktor Frankl?” I ask the class. No one raises a hand. Viktor Frankl was a medical doctor in Germany. The Nazis threw him and his family into concentration camps. They murdered his family, but he survived. Dr. Frankl later wrote that as long as man could find meaning in life, he could overcome anything. He spent three years as a Nazi prisoner, never knowing from one day to the next whether he would be alive the following day. Frankl drew strength by helping others. Like Frankl, any of us can build strength by helping others. We should be open to acknowledging what brings meaning, happiness, positive challenges, and stimulation to our life, regardless of where we are. By helping others, we open possibilities for finding our particular path through challenge. I give examples describing how other prisoners I’ve known used their time inside to effectively launch new careers. I tell of one prisoner who studied science during his term, and left prison to launch a company that converts discarded cooking oil into fuel for heavy equipment. I talk about another prisoner who secured several offers of employment simply by writing unsolicited letters to prospective employers from his community, describing his work ethic, and asking for a chance. The point I try to make, and the example I try to set, is that we cannot wait until release. We have a responsibility now to anticipate the problems we’ll face after prison, and we must prepare every day to overcome them. ******* “Why do you write so much?” Justin, the former stockbroker, asks as he sits across from me at the round table where I work. “Because I can’t sell stocks,” I answer him. He laughs. “I’m serious.” “I am too. I write every day because I want to become a better communicator. I plan to build a career around the experiences I’ve had in prison. The strategies that pulled me through can be applied to any kind of adversity. Since my prison record will make it difficult to support myself any other way, and since I need to support my family, I invest between 10 and 12 hours every day writing, reading, or preparing presentations.” “I wish I had that kind of clarity about my future.” “When do you get out?” I ask Justin. “I finish my sentence in August of 2009.” “Why don’t you do the same thing?” I ask. “What do you mean? Write? Speak?” “Sure. Why not? You’ve got a degree from USC. You were a registered investment advisor caught up in an ethics scandal. Don’t you think others have made the same bad decisions?” “Probably.” “Of course they did. If you watch the news, or look at our prison system, you’ll see that millions of people lose their way. Figure out how you can help them, and you’ve got a new career. You can spend your time in Taft like I do, preparing for a career upon release.” Justin locks his fingers behind his head and leans back. He pauses in thought while I write. “Do you think there’s a market for that?” he asks. “Only if you prepare. You’ve got to create the market, and if that’s what you want to pursue, you’ve got to work as many hours as I do.” ******* The schedule I keep doesn’t lend itself to building friendships. Also, I search for privacy wherever I can find it, nurturing my need for solace by writing, reading, and exercising. When I spend time with others it’s usually related to my work.  I interview other people for a story I want to write, or I practice my speaking skills by teaching a class. Sometimes I’ll work one-on-one with another prisoner, like David, helping him prepare for the GED exam. “Write short sentences using words that you’re certain you can spell correctly” is the advice I drill into him during our lessons. He passes the essay portion of his exam and continues to study as a college student. Justin, however, isn’t studying for a GED. He has a university degree and a history of earning a high income. When people mistake me for a man who recently surrendered, or when their jaws drop as they learn I’ve been a prisoner since 1987, I feel a sense of validation, as if the plan I set decades earlier worked out. I want others to see me as a citizen with something to contribute. That validation comes when men like Justin seek my counsel. Justin takes my advice and begins working closely with me. He gives up television and table games. He devotes himself wholeheartedly to exercise and preparation for life after prison. We become close friends. I suggest steps he can take to position himself for a new career as a speaker and consultant upon his release. I show him how I reach beyond prison boundaries to connect with the world by writing for my website. He launches his own website at JustinPaperny.com. I urge him to write a manuscript. Since he has never written for publication before, I work with him to outline chapters for a new book that we call, Lessons From Prison. Our friendship grows when he introduces Carole and me to his family and friends who visit each week. “I’ve told Brad about your work ethic, about all you’ve done in here and your plans for when you get out,” Justin tells me after Carole and I meet some of his friends in the visiting room. His friend, Brad Fullmer, had a superstar career in professional baseball. He’s one of the few major leaguers to hit a homerun in his first at bat for a professional team. He capped his long career in professional baseball by stealing home during the World Series for the California Angels. “What do you think about letting Brad and me make an investment in your career?” Justin asks. “Have you told him that I’m scheduled to serve five more years?” “He knows,” Justin tells me, “and I know. Some investments take years to pay off. We think you’re a winner and we’d like to participate.” “Let me think about it.” In weighing the possibility of selling a piece of my future earnings, I sit alone in my cubicle. I’m on a plastic chair, leaning back against a concrete wall, propping my feet against the steel post that supports the rack I call my bed. My steel locker has two shelves on the left that hold my folded gray sweats and underwear; it’s above the shelf where I store my dictionary, papers, and dusty running shoes. Over the past 21 years I’ve had to store my possessions inside these types of lockers. But from these lockers with only pens, discipline, and work, I’ve created a life for myself. I look at the pictures of Carole that I’ve taped to the inside of my locker’s doors. She’s the most beautiful woman in the world to me, not only because of her sparkling eyes and smile, but because of the way she has believed in me, given herself so completely to me, strengthening me in ways that no one else could as she served this sentence with me. I look forward to making her life better, just as she has made my life better. I pull Carole’s picture down and hold it in my hands. The image is a poor substitute for holding my wife. On non-visiting days, I sometimes need this tangible feeling of her in my hands. During the five years we’ve been married, my writing has generated more than $200,000 in after-tax earnings for Carole. That’s not much by the standards of society. Still, I’m immensely proud to have earned those resources from prison. I created those resources with pens, paper, and perseverance. Those funds supported her and Nichole, allowing them to move from state to state following my “prison trail.” They allowed Carole to return to college. Despite tremendous hardships and obstacles, she graduated first in her nursing class and now earns her own income. I don’t need to sell a piece of what I’ve worked so hard to create, yet I want to give my wife the security that savings in the bank can provide. I stare at the concrete walls and block out the buzz from the fluorescent light to calculate a fair, present-day value for earnings that will not begin to flow until my release from prison, in five years. What a ridiculous concept. I’m a prisoner, and after more than a quarter century inside, conventional wisdom would question whether I could earn minimum wage, if I could find employment at all. Whatever earnings come, I’ll have to create them. And who can judge the market or anticipate earnings for a man with five years remaining to serve? My experience as a speculator in the stock market convinced me that an investment is only worth what the next investor is willing to pay for it. I’m encouraged that Brad and Justin want to invest in my potential. Yet I’m also aware that I don’t have a line of investors waiting to hand me a check for the right to a percentage of my future earnings, if I ever have any earnings. I negotiate a number. It’s enough to ensure that I can live a full year upon release without earning a single dime, enough to provide Carole with security while I finish serving this sentence. In exchange for money in the bank today, I sell the right to ten cents of every dollar parts of the Michael Santos brand will earn. Time will tell whether I sold too cheaply, but the agreement is fair to me today. When I tell my wife about the check Brad is going to hand her in the prison’s parking lot after our visit concludes, her smile makes the deal worthwhile. I’m easing Carole’s life during the worst economic recession of our lifetime, and I’m coordinating the deal from prison.  That’s priceless. ******* In the fall of 2008, I sit beside Justin as we watch election results. Voters just elected Barack Obama as America’s 44th President. I began serving my term under Ronald Reagan. When the first George Bush spoke about a kinder, gentler America, I thought change might come. Bill Clinton encouraged me to hope. With George W. Bush, I shook my head and accepted that his call for second chances and compassion would never extend to those in prison. President-elect Obama calls for a bottom-up government that values all American citizens. I’m filled with hope because it seems America has elected a leader who understands the needs of our society, all of our society, maybe even those in prison. Carole and I enjoy a wonderful visit on Friday, March 27, 2009. I call her in the late afternoon to ensure that she arrived home safely. She gives me great news when she answers. I learn that Joan Petersilia, a distinguished professor from the Stanford law school, sent a message through our website. Early in my term I began sending out unsolicited letters to academics I admired. I remember writing to Joan on two separate occasions. I always felt like a fisherman at sea, casting lines, hoping to make a connection. I understand that, sometimes, those connections would take years to materialize. Sometimes people respond, other times they don’t.  For every 100 letters I send out, I expect to receive a single reply.  I consider that ratio a wonderful success, even when the reply doesn’t come for years, as it has with this message from Joan. Dr. Petersilia wrote that she’s been using my work for years as a resource for teaching her classes, which is wonderful news.  She astounds me with an invitation to contribute a chapter for The Oxford Handbook on Sentencing and Corrections, a new book she is co-authoring with Kevin Reitz, a law professor from the University of Minnesota. Professor Petersilia is one of the nation’s most distinguished penologists, serving as an advisor to the governor on matters concerning the state of California’s prison system. Legislators and other government leaders from across the nation seek her counsel. As one of one out of 2.3 million prisoners in the United States, I feel honored that even knows who I am.  Her invitation to publish alongside her leaves me amazed and deeply honored.  I set to work at once, eager to finish the chapter long before the due date. I consider these types of writing projects as enormous opportunities.  For decades I’ve worked hard to earn credentials and develop skills that would allow me to make meaningful contributions to society, but I’m in a different phase of the journey now.  Every day it becomes more apparent to me that I must make a shift in strategy.  I’m in the final months of my imprisonment now, and I have to think about deliberate steps I can take that will help ease my transition into society upon release.  It’s coming. Writing for Professor Petersilia is a wonderful opportunity. The investment of time will introduce my work to thousands of scholars who have an interest in improving our nation’s prison system.  When I emerge from prison, I’ll need to earn a living, and doing so will require that I surmount some enormous hurdles.  Since I intend to build a career around all that I learned as a long-term prisoner, I’ll need the types of professional relationships that distinguished scholars like Joan Petersilia can open.  She is the type of role model I need, and as I’ve done with all of my mentors, I intend to prove worthy of her support. Besides building contacts, however, I also need to focus on steps I can take to build an income stream.  It’s going to cost me an enormous amount of financial resources to settle in society.  I don’t know where Carole and I will make our home, but wherever we go, I’ll need to have a substantial savings account in place to cover the costs of my reentry.  I calculate how much I’ll need to spend once I walk out of prison. During those first few weeks of liberty, I’ll need to purchase items that most people accumulate over decades.  With the cost of clothes, computers, and housing, those expenses, I’ll drop a minimum of $40,000. Fortunately, as a result of decisions I’ve made along the way, I expect that I’ll have more than twice that amount in a savings account that I’ve been building.  I’m determined to succeed. By sowing seeds along the way, I’ll walk out of prison after 26 years with sufficient resources to ensure that nothing is going to block my pathway to success. I’m determined to leave prison ready, without external influences like economic challenges to block me.  I’ll have values, skills, and resources in place to make it.

Earning Freedom: Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term, by Michael Santos Chapter 14.1 Arriving at the Taft Federal Camp and settling in Months 233-266          Early on the morning of June 21, I learn that I’m no longer designated to FCC Lompoc. Two guards from the Taft Correctional Institution arrive.  They lock six of us in chains, and then they load us into a white van. We’re on our way to the Central Valley of California, leaving Lompoc behind for good. Lompoc Camp was already a memory after 65 days locked in SHU, but I’m a little sad when the van exits the main gate and turns left toward the highway. I’ll miss running long distances in the shade of Lompoc’s majestic eucalyptus trees, enjoying the fragrances of the pines mixed with breezes from the nearby Pacific Ocean. I’ll miss my friend Lee and the nearly private space I enjoyed in the powerhouse office. The two-lane road climbs east through low mountains, drops into the San Joaquin Valley, and it finally whips through high desert.  It’s a landscape of blowing dust, sagebrush, and unsightly steel pumps sucking oil from the arid soil. I lean involuntarily as the van turns right onto the long entry road leading to the prison, bouncing over yellow speed bumps. At the parking lot of the double-fenced, low-security prison, manicured lawns and palm trees welcome us. Blooming gardens create the illusion of a lush oasis in this desert. After the requisite intake processing, three of us designated to minimum-security take our bedrolls and board the white van, unrestrained, for a short ride to Taft Camp’s low, gray, concrete administration building. Located behind the low-security prison, the modern, single-story design features tinted windows and round pillars supporting an extended roof shading spacious walkways. The building looks more like the headquarters for a software engineering firm than a prison. Taft Camp appears to be well maintained. In the administration building, the round schoolhouse clock in the glass-enclosed guard’s station reads just past five. I cross the tile floor and push open the glass door to the camp’s compound. After more than two months in Lompoc’s SHU I revel in this less-stressful environment. Wide, clean, concrete walkways cut across pristine lawns in the center of the camp compound. Decorative, knee-high light posts illuminate the walks leading to the glass-enclosed chow hall and across the lawn to the two-storied housing unit with its horizontal rows of tall, unbarred, wide windows of tinted glass. In the distance, an oval track surrounds softball and soccer fields. Men in khakis, white t-shirts, and sneakers visit outside the housing units. They appear friendly, smiling and nodding as I climb the stairs to A4D, my assigned housing unit. The air conditioning feels good, cooling me as I step inside the high-ceilinged dorm, one of four identical housing units. Six telephones hang across from each other on the two walls immediately inside the foyer, and I don’t see any guards. Unlike the open dormitories at Lompoc, two and three-man cubicles divide the housing unit, creating a grid that provides a semblance of privacy for the 140 men in my unit. The bathroom facilities are much larger than Lompoc’s.  They include 16 shower areas with doors and plenty of toilet stalls, urinals, and sinks. The unit reserves a room for four microwaves and an ice machine, rooms with six televisions and game tables, and a small study room that overlooks the lawns. In cubicle 36, a three-man room, I meet my two roommates. “I’m Rick,” one man offers, extending his hand.
Dan, a slender, blond man in his early 50s, introduces himself as well.
I set my bedroll on the top rack.
“Let me show you how to make up your bed,” Dan offers. “It can be a little tricky to keep your sheets in place. What you want to do is….” “Thanks for the tip,” I raise my hand to stop his instruction. “I’d like to say I’m new, but I’ve been at this awhile.” “Oh, I thought you were fresh off the streets. Did you come in from the county jail?” I chuckle as I tie the corners of my sheets around the mat. “Not jail. I was at Lompoc Camp.” “Really? Lompoc Camp! I’ve heard that’s the best place in the system.” Dan turns to Rick. “My lawyer tried to get me sent to Lompoc, but the schmuck got me sent to this dump filled with drug dealers and criminals.” “Yeah,” Rick agrees. “I’ve heard about Lompoc. Forbes runs an article each year that ranks the best prisons for white-collar offenders and Lompoc Camp always comes out on top. Is it true that they’ve got a golf course?” Rick simulates a golf swing. “I didn’t see a golf course,” I laugh. “But Lompoc does have its bright spots.” “You’re not going to like the change,” Dan warns. “This place is a real prison.” “No kidding? What’s not to like?” I ask. Rick and Dan exchange a knowing glance. “You’ll find out soon enough,” Dan says. “The food is awful, the staff is incompetent, and 95 percent of the men here are dim bulbs, borderline imbeciles,” Rick tells me. “Well, I guess I lucked out then, being assigned to this cubicle. What do you guys do for a living?” “I’m an accountant,” Rick says. “And what brings you to Taft Camp?” I stuff my pillow into the pillowcase. “Overzealous prosecutors,” he answers. “Saddled me with three years for advising clients on offshore accounts. It was totally above board. I shouldn’t even be here.” “Did you take the case to trial?” “Oh no. If I’d lost at trial I would’ve been facing ten years. Better to plead guilty, take the three years and move on with my life.” “What about you?” I ask Dan. “I’m in investments.” “Oh? What kind?” “All kinds,” he says. “My company purchases real estate, financial instruments, businesses. Private equity.” “And how long are you with us?” I ask. “Serving 46 months,” Dan says. “It doesn’t make any sense at all. We’ve got drug dealers and other real criminals running around here serving half the sentence I’m serving.” “What did they charge you with?” I ask. “You’re not going to believe it,” he says. “Try me,” I smile. “Fraud. Said I was running a Ponzi. I offered investors a legitimate 10 percent annual return on their money. I got a little behind the eight ball when markets started going sideways on me, and before you know it, boom, I got the FBI breathing down my neck.” “How much was the amount of loss?” “A lousy four million. If the investors would’ve just been patient, the deals would’ve worked out. Totally legit. Now it’s all gone.” He waves his hand dismissively. “What’re you, a lawyer?” Rick asks as he sits on his lower rack. “No. I’m serving a 45 year sentence for selling cocaine.” Silence. Don and Rick look at each other.
Then Rick explodes with laughter. “No way! You wouldn’t be in camp with a sentence like that.” “I’m totally serious. Of course, I’ve been in a long time.” “But you said you came from Lompoc Camp. That’s a spot for white-collar offenders.” “Not only white-collar offenders, and I did come from Lompoc Camp. But I was in several prisons before Lompoc Camp.” “Like where?” Rick asks, still skeptical, unable to hide his curiosity and incredulity. “I started in USP Atlanta,” I toss out, humoring myself with my new roommates. Rick scoots to the edge of his rack, leans in. “No way. You were in a penitentiary?” “I spent six Christmases inside those walls. Then I transferred to McKean, in Pennsylvania. From there I transferred to Fairton, in New Jersey. I spent almost eight years at Fort Dix. Then I was in Florence Camp, Lompoc Camp, and now I’m here.” They stare at me for a moment in silence. “How long have you been in prison?” Rick finally blurts out. “Twenty years.” “Twenty years?” Don whistles. “I’ve never met anyone who’s been in longer than five. Listen, I hope I didn’t offend you with anything I said. I didn’t know.” “After 20 years in prison, do you really think I could be offended by something you’d say?”  “So no hard feelings then?” Dan puts out his hand. “Think nothing of it.” We shake hands again. ******* I meet my counselor and my case manager. Both women speak to me kindly, taken aback that I’ve been in prison for so long. “Where are all your tattoos?” My counselor teases. She grants my request for a phone call to Carole and immediately approves a visiting list authorizing Carole to visit over the weekend. “You could put a different set of clothes on and I wouldn’t know you’ve been in prison at all.” My case manager says. “Does that surprise you?” I ask with a laugh. “Totally. I was a little girl when you came to prison. I would’ve expected you to be angry and bitter. But you’re all smiles, normal, like you haven’t ever served time in prison.” “Isn’t that ironic?” I ask. “What’s that?” “That I’m unscathed after 20 years of imprisonment, with all my teeth and no tattoos, yet you wonder what went wrong. You expect two decades in prison should turn me angry and bitter. When you see that it hasn’t, you wonder why.” “Oh! I didn’t think of it that way.” ******* When Carole and I were in Fort Dix we were able to visit five days a week. Those ample visits allowed us to deepen our relationship and allowed me to play an influential role in Nichole’s life. In Florence Camp, rules allowed us to visit every Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and federal holiday. At Lompoc, restrictions were tighter. Authorized visits were only Saturdays, Sundays, and holidays. Still, we appreciated the time together. In Taft Camp, I learn, a point structure penalizes families who visit on weekends or holidays. Because Carole is in school on Fridays, we’ll only be able to visit on weekends, limiting us to a maximum of two or three visits each month, depending on whether we visit on Saturdays or Sundays. The visiting restrictions will complicate our life, but we’ll make it through.  Carole arrives early on Sunday for our first visit at Taft. “Tell me all about it. How do you like it here?” Carole smiles, eager to hear about this newest transition. “Without a doubt, this is the easiest prison in the world.” “How are the people?” “Do you mean the other prisoners or the staff?” “Both.” “The prisoners are the same as in every other camp, but the guards are different. It’s only been a few days, but the staff I’ve spoken to seem a much friendlier group than the standard-issue BOP brand.” “What do you mean?” “Rather than the BOP, a private company manages this place. I don’t know why, but it’s different from other prisons. The guards don’t give the impression that they’re out to harass me, and the unit team members, meaning the counselors and case managers, treat me like a person, not a prisoner.” “My contact at the Regional Office said Taft was the best spot for you. That’s why I want you to make me a promise.” “What’s that?” I ask warily. “What kind of promise do you want me to make?” “Just listen. Thanks to Lee, we have enough in the bank to pay for everything we need until I finish nursing school. Nichole’s going to graduate next June, and by then I’ll have my nursing license. I don’t want you to do anything that might send you to the hole or get you transferred. Don’t write anything about prison, and don’t tell me to make any stock trades. Nothing. I don’t want any problems that might waken the beast.” “I don’t want problems either,” I say, wanting to reassure her. “You know what I mean. No more writing until I graduate. After that, I can get a job anywhere if they decide to transfer you for publishing or for some other ridiculous reason.” “I have to prepare for my release and the only way I know how to do that is by writing. We can’t allow the system to keep me from working.” “The system isn’t stopping you,” Carole says. “I’m asking you to stop. It’s just for one year, until I graduate.” “You want me to give up a year of work?” “Please, Michael. No writing about prison or prisoners.” I shake my head. “Nothing?” “Nothing.”
I pause. Writing enables me to transcend the boundaries, allowing me to connect with the society I long to join. By writing about what I’ve learned from others, observed, and experienced, I take meaningful steps to reform this system, showing taxpayers what those within the prison industrial complex don’t want citizens to see. As a writer, I’m relevant, more than a prisoner, part of something bigger than me. But I won’t deny Carole and so I agree to suspend my work until she graduates. I don’t want to give prison administrators cause to uproot our lives again. “Okay. I promise.” ******* Tavo may not have much of an education, but he maneuvers his way around Taft Camp just fine, providing for himself with a hustle here and a hustle there. He’s five foot-six and doesn’t weigh more than130 pounds.  He wears his straight black hair parted down the middle and feathered back. His eyes are a startling green and, despite his 40 years, there’s not a whisker on his face. Tavo has a trace of an accent even though he was born and reared in Los Angeles. He keeps up with who’s being released from the camp, negotiating a price for each departing prisoner’s sneakers, sweats, radios, and other belongings. He tacks on a markup and sells the goods to newcomers, even providing a payment plan when necessary. He has a commissary squeeze where he charges a fee for providing candy, soda, chips, or other items on days when the prisoners aren’t authorized to shop. For his most lucrative gig, Tavo provides the service of doubling mattresses. Bed frames at Taft Camp consist of metal slabs welded to four metal posts. The narrow slabs have lips that rise an inch around the edges to hold the sleeping mats in place. Tavo understands that some prisoners in camp are sensitive to the harshness of institutional living. He charges $40 to cut through the seam, stuff a second mat into the casing and sew it shut, thus converting the mat to a mattress. “You’ve got to meet Tavo,” Rick, my roommate nudges. “For 40 bucks he’ll hook up the mattress in a way that makes sleeping almost bearable.” “Appreciate the tip. I’m good,” I say. “Can’t pay enough for a good night’s sleep,” Dan seconds the suggestion. “Sit on mine.” “I’m sure it’s comfortable,” I shrug. “But I’ve known hundreds of Tavos. The double mattress is great until guards come through on a shakedown and issue shots for destruction of government property. I don’t need the headache.” “They can’t do that,” Rick says. “I’d just say the mattress was issued to me this way. Check it out. You can’t even tell.” “I’ll be okay. Thanks.” Rick and Dan serve their time as a team. They eat meals together, walk the track together, and they partner in card tournaments. But in the afternoon, when rules require us all to stand in the cube for the daily census count, we sometimes discuss our lives and thoughts. They question me about other prisons and what it’s been like to serve so many years. “I’ll tell you one thing. Serving time in other prisons has made it easy for me to appreciate Taft.” “You see, that’s not normal,” Dan tells me. “You’ve been in too long, so long that prison doesn’t bother you anymore. Truth is, this is inhumane. The lengths of the sentences don’t make any sense at all.” “What he’s saying,” Rick jumps in, “is that some people might belong in prison. But guys like us shouldn’t be in here at all.” “What do you mean, ‘like us’? I’m in here for selling cocaine. The first day I came into the cube you were saying that people who sold drugs were the real criminals who belong in prison.” “Not for 20 years,” Dan amends. “Besides, you’re different now. You’ve educated yourself and you’ve got things going on in the world. Prison should be for the criminal types, the guys who keep selling drugs or committing crimes.” “You mean guys like Tavo?” I ask. Rick shifts uncomfortably. “Well, Tavo’s a nice enough guy, but what’s he going to do in the world? No one’s going to hire him. He’s not doing anything to change his ways. Chances are, he’s probably going to leave here and hustle drugs again.” “Chances are,” I say, “that he came from a poor family, quit school before 10th grade, can’t read well, and had to hustle for survival. How about you? Where did you go to school?” “Cal State Northridge,” Rick says. “You went to USC right?” I nod at Dan. “Go Trojans,” Dan waves two fingers in the air. “Should society hold people who come from poverty to the same standard as people who come from privilege?” “You break the law, you break the law,” Dan explains smugly. “We all make our choices.” “But you guys whine in here every day about your discomfort and the living conditions. Guys like Tavo are getting by the only way they know how. This might be as good as he’s ever had it.” I argue. “He’s a criminal. He sold drugs,” Dan counters. “I don’t know what Tavo did, but he probably sold drugs to consenting adults and he probably serves at least twice as long as you. Who would the investors in your scam think is the worse criminal, Tavo or you?” I ask. “You don’t know anything about my case,” Dan hisses. “I didn’t set out to lose anyone’s money. Markets just went against me. I couldn’t control it. It’s not my fault.” “That may be,” I shrug. “But you pled guilty. That means you had to stand in court, and while under oath, admit to committing fraud.” “I only pled guilty because I would’ve gotten a longer sentence if I went to trial.” “Either way, you’re not in a position to be judging anyone else in here.” That argument serves me well, as neither Rick nor Dan speak to me again. We pass each other silently for three months before a staff member grants my request to move into a two-man cube further back in the housing unit with David Muniz, a married father of two. Since I’m keeping my promise to Carole that I won’t write, I devote my time to exercising and spending several hours each week tutoring and coaching David on steps he can take to prepare for release. We laugh as guards wheel a cart through the unit one day, confiscating all double mattresses. When one of the guards threatens Dan with a shot, Dan doesn’t hesitate to snitch on Tavo. Rick, however, argues with the guard “You can’t take my mattress! I’ve got a bad back.” “This mattress isn’t standard issue, it’s been altered. It’s contraband.” The guard doesn’t have any concern about the condition of Rick’s back. “If you don’t provide me with a double mattress, my lawyer will slap a lawsuit on this prison so fast it’ll make the warden’s head spin.” “Really,” the guard says in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “Let’s see you launch that lawsuit from the SHU.” *******   ******* Carole and I celebrate Christmas day sitting beside each other in the visiting room. Wreathes, blinking lights, a Christmas tree, and a full-sized red, wooden sleigh decorate the room. A prisoner in a Santa outfit walks around the crowded room handing out candy canes, but my gift is sitting beside me. “This is your 21st Christmas in prison,” Carole says. “Our sixth together since we’ve been married.” “We only have six more to go.” “Five,” she corrects me. “No, 2013.” “But you’ll be home in August. We’ll spend Christmas together that year.” The years blend together for me now, but Carole helps me visualize our life ahead. It’s not easy to imagine being free. Strange. “Time will move so much faster starting in 2008,” I say. “How so?” “We’ve got all these events to mark the time. They’ll come like milestones, passing quickly, giving us real markers to look toward.” “Like what?” “What do you mean ‘like what’?” I hold up my fingers to count. “In January the political season kicks off with the primaries. We’ll follow all the races, starting in Iowa. After the primaries roll around, we’ll have a better idea who our next president is going to be.” Carole squeezes my hand. “I’m so sick of politics. It doesn’t matter who wins, nothing changes.” “Then in March the $500,000 fine that my judge imposed expires. We can open a joint bank account as husband and wife. In May, you graduate from nursing school. In June, Nichole graduates from high school. Sometime during the summer the political conventions will name the candidates. The fall will make politics really exciting. Then it will be Christmas again.” “The years take much longer to pass than you make it sound,” Carole says. “Remember what we were doing five years ago?” I ask her. “I had just moved to Fort Dix.” “Remember what I told you on New Year’s Day, when you and Nichole came to visit?” “Tell me again.” “I put up my hand and opened five fingers like this,” I repeat the action. “I said that in five years, if you stayed with me, your life would be completely different. And look at you now, five years later.” She smiles and brushes her cheek against mine. “Do you think I’m so different?” “You’re a magnificent wife. No matter what happens in my life, nothing will bring me more happiness than my marriage to you.”  

Examining what would have happened had the San Francisco Giants not traded Matt Duffy (and Lucius Fox and Michael Santos) to the Tampa Bay Rays in exchange for Matt Moore. Moore pitched decently for the Giants down the stretch, and was dominant in his one postseason start, but fell apart in 2017 and was traded for salary relief. The Giants then used that relief to acquire Evan Longoria's contract from the Rays. Matt Duffy never ended up amounting to much in Tampa, although he did have one strong season in 2018. The jury is still out on Fox and Santos, who have yet to make their major league debuts. No matter how it all plays out, things could have been very different had the Giants elected to hold onto Duffy. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Michael was arrested, convicted and sentenced to a 45 years for his part in the distribution of cocaine in 1987.  This was his first offense, his first arrest, and at the age of 23, and was going to spend decades in prison. However, Michael learned how to create success for himself while being incarcerated, earned three degrees, authored 7 books, and set himself up to be a success before his release.  He now teaches other prisoners how to navigate the prison system and for the best possible outcome upon release. This is Michael's story....

We're now into episode four of Prison Professors' five-part series on How to Master Prison. Those who aren't going into the prison system may find more interest in our interviews. Our team works with people from all types of backgrounds. Some face charges or served time for white-collar crimes. Others served time for drug offenses, or even violent crimes. Our interviews with those people show that regardless of what bad decisions a person has made in the past, it's never too early and it's never too late to begin sowing seeds for a better life.   In this series, we're offering content that will help people before they go into the criminal justice system. We know there's a lot of fear and anxiety about prison. Our team knows how to overcome it. And it's a bit thing to overcome the fear of prison, especially for those who don't know anything about it.   Howard Phillips Lovecraft, an American fiction writer, wrote a line that brought is often quoted:   “The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear,” he wrote. “And the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.”   If you've never been to prison before, then you may have some fear. That's normal. People who haven't been to prison don't really know what to expect. We've seen prisons depicted in movies. But are those representations real?   Prison population levels have soared over the past several decades. As a result, artists portray prisons in film, television, music, and literature. When artists portray scenes from prison, they feature the sensational. They produce the scenes to elicit an emotion. Frequently, film producers want to elicit the emotion of fear.   Our team at Prison Professors provides you with a different perspective. If you're going into the prison system, open your eyes to the best possible outcome. What does the best possible outcome look like in your case? If we can see the best possible outcome, we begin to realize that pathways to success exist.   Look at the success of our partners at Prison Professors.   Neither Shon nor Justin had been to prison before. One was going to prison for armed bank robbery. The other would serve time for a white-collar crime. Both men were afraid of what was to come. Prison would separate them from the people they love. It would separate them from the people who loved them. Neither knew anyone who had served time before. Yet both of them had seen the movies. They watched the television shows and they heard the stories.   Their outcomes on the other side of the journey, however, differed from what anyone would expect. Shon became the most successful jailhouse lawyer in history. He wrote briefs that won cases in District Courts, in Circuit Courts, and in the U.S. Supreme Court. Then, after completing his term, Shon went on to law school. He clerked for the D.C. Circuit Court. Georgetown Law School hired Shon. He's now a law professor and advocate for reforms.   Justin chronicled his story in Lessons From Prison. When he went to prison, he feared the type of life he would lead upon release. Justin's conviction for fraud resulted in the loss of his livelihood. He worried about how he would be able to earn a living. Like Shon, Justin, finished serving his sentence during the worst economic recession of our lifetime. Yet during the first few years since his release from prison, he began building businesses. Those businesses would generate millions in revenues. Clients for those businesses include law enforcement, the corporate sector, academia, law firms, the judiciary, and individuals who face time in prison.   Why did Shon and Justin experience a different outcome from what we see portrayed in media? They prepared for success!   I'm Michael Santos. My partners and I want to share everything we learned about mastering the prison experience. Like Shon and Justin, I went to prison as a young man. I started my prison journey in , when I was 23. I didn't get out of federal prison until 2013. Despite the 26 years that I served, every day felt productive. It felt productive because I wasn't only preparing for prison. I was preparing for the success I would want to achieve in prison and beyond.     How Do We Prepare for Prison: We prepare for prison in the same way that we prepare for anything else in life. Success begins with a definition: How do we define success? The person must ask the following question:   What is going to be the best possible outcome?   Answering that question is essential. None of us can change the past. But if we want to influence the future, we must begin by defining success. If we can define success, then we can engineer the path. That path should take us from where we are to where we want to go. Future chapters will define our methodical approach for defining success. We call it our Straight-A Guide. But for now, let's focus our preparation on defining success.   Defining a successful outcome from prison requires us to complete a self-assessment. What does our life look like now?   If we're a highly-educated person, that we may prepare in ways that differ from someone who doesn't have a high school diploma. If we have financial resources, we may prepare differently from someone who doesn't have enough money to live in prison. If we value close relationships with family, we may prepare differently from someone who wants to serve time alone. If we have a sentence in excess of 10 years, we may prepare differently from someone who is serving one year.   Preparing for a successful journey through prison requires us to define success. And as shown above, success for one person may differ from another person's success.   My partners and I all had different life experiences. Justin was a graduate from the University of Southern California and he was a licensed professional before he went to prison. Shon had a history of substance abuse and he was serving a sentence for armed bank robberies. I started selling cocaine when I was 20 and didn't have much of an education when I started.   But one fact united each of us. Justin, Shon, and I hated being in prison. We wanted a different outcome from what others would expect of us. We wanted to return to society as law-abiding, tax-paying citizens. We didn't want to live on the margins. We wanted success, and we prepared in ways that would be consistent with that outcome. Our preparations, however, began when we were already confined.     Prepare For Prison Early: The sooner a person can prepare, the better. Consider the oft-quoted adage on the best time to plant an oak tree. Do you know the best time to plant an oak tree? Some people say winter, some people say summer. Some people say fall, some people say spring.   A wise person knows the best time to plant an oak tree. It's 20 years ago. The second best time to plant an oak tree is today.   The same thing goes with preparing for prison. The sooner a person can start thinking about the outcome that he wants to achieve, the better a person can prepare for a successful journey inside.   Good preparations serve a person well. Preparations will serve a person going to prison in the in the same way that a blueprint can serve a builder. It provides a guide of what steps we must take.   Not all people get to prison the same way. Some judges allow people to surrender at some point after the sentencing hearing. Through counsel, the defendant can ask the judge for time to prepare and get affairs in order. When judges allow people to surrender, they typically allow at least 30 days to pass. Some of our clients have been able to postpone their surrender to prison for a year or longer. There may be a variety of reasons that make sense for someone to delay their surrender date. They may want to complete a class. They may have family obligations. They may need to complete a business transaction.   If there isn't a compelling reason to do the opposite, we encourage people to get started. Don't delay the surrender if there isn't a reason. While waiting to serve time, life can feel like it's on hold. It's hard to gain any traction in life when a prison term is looming ahead. For many people who must surrender to prison, the waiting can be interminable. It can feel like a person is serving time, but the time does not count. In Lessons From Prison, Justin describes how the period before surrendering to prison led to a depression. Others talk about drinking too much, or eating too much, or feeling traumatized with fear.   Each case is different, and we do not provide boilerplate guidance. But as a general rule, we find that it's best to start serving the time as soon as possible. The sooner a person starts, the sooner a person can get on a path toward building a successful future.   We provide tips through our website, through our YouTube channel, and through our podcast. Some of those tips will be specific for people who have an option to surrender to prison. Other tips apply to all people, whether they're surrendering to prison or whether they're going to be taken into custody without notice. It's important to remember that a judge has the discretion. The judge can leave a person out on bond for a lengthy period of time after the conviction. Or the judge can issue an order that results in an unexpected confinement. Consider the widely reported case of Martin Shkreli.   Martin Shkreli was widely castigated in the media. Headlines labeled him as the “Pharma Bro.” In 2017, a jury convicted him on charges related to fraud. While out on bond, he repeatedly appeared on social media. One post, supposedly, offered payment to anyone who could provide a piece of hair from Hillary Clinton. That post led prosecutors to say that Martin posed a thread. The judge agreed. He ordered the U.S. Marshals to take Martin into custody in September, long before his sentencing hearing. As a result, the Bureau of Prisons locked him inside a New York detention center.   Had Martin prepared better, the judge likely would have allowed him to surrender to a minimum-security camp. Life in a minimum-security camp offers considerably more liberty, and considerably less volatility than life inside of a detention center.   It's always best to prepare. Knowledge translates into better decisions, and better decisions translate into better experiences.     Designation Details: Many defense attorneys will stop their representation at the sentencing hearing. Others will be willing to assist their clients a bit further. For those who have a good legal team in place, we offer some advice. Ask the defense attorney to get some confirmations from the Marshals and the BOP regarding the designation. A process unfolds after sentencing. The U.S. Marshals will forward the Judgment Order and the Presentence Investigation Report to the Bureau of Prisons designation center in Grand Prairie, Texas. Administrators in Texas will consider many different factors. Then they will identify an appropriate prison for the person to serve the sentence.   The staff in Grand Prairie will be responsible for submitting the appropriate paperwork to the designated prison. Sometimes human errors occur. Those errors can mean that the paperwork is not in order. If the paperwork is not in order when the defendant arrives at the institution, staff members may lock the individual in the Special Housing Unit. That means the person will be held on lockdown, without access to the telephone or recreation. Time will be much more difficult.   If possible, prepare in advance. Ask the defense attorney to confirm with the Bureau of Prisons and the U.S. Marshal service that all paperwork is in order. Our team has known many defendants who suffered because they were locked unnecessarily in Special Housing Units because they did not prepare in advance.     Point of Contact (POC): Identify a point of contact prior to confinement. Defendants may have a family member or friend who will serve as this point of contact. Let the POC know that they should expect to hear from you within two days. Defendants should understand that the Bureau of Prisons might not activate the phone or email system immediately. Still, if a defendant is on a prison compound, he will be in a community. Depending on the prison, a population level of between 100 and more than 1,000 people will serve time in the community. Someone will agree to help. They can have a family member reach out to your POC and let them know that you arrived safely and that you're okay.   Create a plan for your POC to follow. If your POC does not hear from you after three days, ask your POC to take action. Your POC should contact your attorney. If you don't have an attorney, you need an advocate who will help you. Your advocate should contact the Bureau of Prisons. Effective advocacy will lead the BOP to investigate why you're not able to communicate. If you're being held in the SHU because of misplaced paperwork, your advocate can take steps to correct the problem.   Alan was a client who could have used an advocate. Alan was convicted of healthcare fraud. He surrendered to a minimum-security camp to serve a 36-month sentence. Besides the instant offense, Alan did not have a criminal history. He expected to serve his time in the camp. Unfortunately, the BOP in Grand Prairie did not forward his presentence investigation report to the camp. As a result, when he surrendered to the camp, staff member locked him the Special Housing Unit. He remained in the Special Housing Unit for six weeks because the staff did not have a sense of urgency to fix the problem. Alan didn't know any better, and he didn't have a plan to fix the problem.     Finances: Create a finance plan as soon as possible. The plan should take into consideration the financial responsibilities outside of prison, and the financial needs while in prison.   Every individual has a unique situation. Some people have family members to support. Others do not have any financial responsibilities outside of prison. Think this through. Craft a plan that works for the support group. Coordinate a budget, or plan to assist through the journey.   It's possible to live in prison without any financial resources. Yet financial resources can ease the burden significantly. Remember that prison is a microcosm of our broader society. An underground economy will exist in every prison. By understanding how that economy works, a person can avoid problems that can complicate life inside.   In our book Earning Freedom: Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term, I wrote about my experiences with the prison economy. I describe why I would spend about $600 each month to live in prison. Those expenditures allowed me to pay for the email system, the telephone system, postage, and to purchase commissary.   Other people live without resources. Some people have “hustles” in prison that allow them to function in that economy. They wash clothes, they clean, they cook for other people. Other people earn an income while working on prison jobs. Those jobs may pay anywhere from $5 a month to $200 per month. Jobs that pay $200 or more a month are relatively scarce, and staff members award those jobs in accordance with seniority. It may take ten years in prison before a person can get into one of the higher paying jobs.   A good plan will keep a person on track. Take steps to understand the financial opportunities and limitations in prison. I've written extensively about my experience in prison. When I left prison, after 26 years inside, I had more than $100,000 in after-tax savings. Those resources allowed me to start my life. The financial resources reflected my preparation. The preparations began with a visualization of how I wanted to emerge. Then I put my plan in place. Then I set priorities. Then I executed the plan. Make sure that you do the same.     Reading: A good planner will see advantages everywhere. We encourage you to plan your reading list. That plan worked well for our partner Shon Hopwood. He chose to read selectively in prison. That selected reading plan led to his developing knowledge of the law. By reading, he became an expert in writing appellate motions. While in prison, Shon wrote briefs that led to liberty for many people. His briefs won in U.S. District Courts, in Circuit Courts, and in the United States Supreme Court.   Likewise, Justin followed a disciplined reading schedule while in prison. He read books that would lead to his success upon release. What books will you read while you're in prison? How will reading contribute to your success while in prison, and beyond?   In several of our programs, I describe the strategy that empowered me through prison. Each time I read a book, I would document the experience with a book report. The book report would follow a simple plan. I would answer three questions:   Why did I read the book?   What did I learn from reading the book?   How will reading the book contribute to my success upon release?   By responding to those questions, we show a disciplined, deliberate path to make time in prison work for you. It's part of an excellent preparation strategy.     Journaling and Reputation Management: At the soonest possible time, anticipate the challenges that you'll face upon release. Use your time inside to begin crafting your personal image. Anticipate the how prospective employers, creditors, business associates, and anyone else will perceive you. What will they find when they search your name on Google?   If you anticipate challenges in the future, you can begin sowing seeds today to overcome those challenges. That strategy worked well for Shon. It worked well for Justin. It worked well for me.   Each of us documented our journey in prison. Each of us chronicled our journey to show our disciplined, deliberate preparations inside. Those initiatives allowed us to overcome enormous obstacles. Shon persuaded a law school to admit him, he persuaded Bar to admit him, and he persuaded a federal judge to hire him. Justin's journaling and strategies for reputation management while in prison opened enormous opportunities. Within three weeks of concluding 26 years in prison, I was teaching as an adjunct professor at San Francisco State University.   What led to those opportunities? Our journaling and our efforts to redefine our image made all the difference. Rather than judging us for the bad decisions that led to our prison term. People judged us for our how we responded. We prepared while in prison.    

Are you facing a term in federal prison? I'm Michael Santos, and along with my two co-founders, Shon Hopwood and Justin Paperny, we want to help you master the system. The more you know about the system, the better you can position yourself to succeed.   We're now in our third episode of our five-part series, How to Master Prison. In our two previous episodes, we offered some insight. We discussed the process that brings someone into the system. Then we discussed how people going into the system should work to influence leaders. In this episode, we cover Custody and Classification. Those who have never been to federal prison may not know anything about custody and classification systems. But understanding the system can make all the difference in the world.   It's something that each of our partners knows a lot about. For those who are reading the chapters independently, rather than sequentially, I encourage you to tune into earlier episodes to learn about the members of our Prison Professors team. All readers should know why we're qualified to teach lessons on mastering the federal prison system. Our website at PrisonProfessors.com features a full bio on each of us.   As stated in the previous episodes, to master the federal prison system, start with an understanding of the massive bureaucracy. The system employs more than 40,000 staff members, and it confines more than 200,000 people. In an effort to keep decisions in harmony, the BOP relies about an extensive library of Program Statements and Policy Statements. The BOP invests heavily to train staff members so that they can make decisions in accordance with those Program Statements and Policy Statements.   The Bureau of Prisons operates a website at www.BOP.Gov. Through that website, visitors can access the Program Statements. The BOP published Program Statement 5100.08 on September 12, 2006. This Program Statement covers Inmate Designation and Custody Classification. It is the eighth version of the program statement. In time, the BOP will likely revise the Program Statement. When the BOP revises the Program Statement, it will be known as 5100.09. For now we will provide a primer on the system that is in use as of December 2017.     Inmate Security Designation and Custody Classification Our team at Prison Professors has thousands of stories that reveal why an understanding of Inmate Security Designation and Custody Classification is so crucial. We'll start with the case of Erik.   A federal judge sentenced Erik to serve a 48-month sentence for wire fraud. Prior to being charged, Erik said that he didn't know the meaning of wire fraud. He didn't consider himself a criminal. Many people make bad decisions during the course of their careers. Sometimes, those bad decisions lead to criminal prosecution. Erik owned, for example, a small finance company. Some financial structuring problems led prosecutors to indict Erik. Inappropriate use of Email and the Internet led to his guilty conviction. Regardless of his self-perception of not being a criminal, a federal judge ordered Erik to surrender to a Federal Prison Camp so that he could serve a 48-month sentence.   Had Erik understood the Inmate Security Designation and Custody Classification system, he would have behaved differently, he said. Instead, Erik made decisions inside that really complicated his journey.   As anyone can see from the free calculators that we make available at PrisonProfessors.com, Erik should have finished his time in prison early. With credit for good time, credit for completion of the Residential Drug Abuse Program, and credit for halfway house, Erik should have served about two years in prison. Then he should have transferred to a halfway house. But Erik didn't understand the prison system. He made decisions inside that resulted in his serving the entire 48 month sentence.   Further, authorities prosecuted Erik a second time for possession of contraband in prison. Although he could have returned to his family in less than two years, he Erik ended up serving the entire four-year sentence. He also received a new felony conviction, and an additional six-month term. Instead of serving his time in a minimum-security camp, he served substantial portions locked in the segregated housing unit and then in a low-security prison.   How did that happen?   Erik's struggle came because he did not know the importance of decisions in prison. He did not consider himself a criminal. And he thought that others wouldn't consider him a criminal.   Yet Erik's self perception didn't have any bearing on how prison staff would treat him. Staff members would consider him an “inmate.” As such, they would judge him in accordance with what the various Program Statements prescribed.   The following sequence of events occurred. Erik surrendered to prison in accordance with the judge's order. As soon as he settled in, he wanted to use the phone. He didn't know the rules associated with the phone system. To use the phone, Erik had to wait for staff members to set up a list of approved numbers that he could call from his account. Erik grew frustrated. He wanted to talk with his parents, but the phone number wasn't approved. Not knowing the rules, Erik asked his wife to patch him through on a conference call. Staff members learned about the three-way call. After finding him guilty of violating the phone rules, a Disciplinary Hearing Officer sanctioned him with the loss of telephone privileges for six months. Erik responded by using a cell phone that he borrowed from another prisoner. Cell phones are contraband. Staff members caught him. Possession of a cell phone brought a series of new problems. Because it wasn't only contraband, it was also new criminal conduct. As a result of his decisions:   Erik lost his good time. He lost eligibility for RDAP and the time off that would have resulted had he completed the program successfully. Prosecutors charged him with new criminal conduct. He underwent more expenses with legal fees. He pleaded guilty to a second felony and he received a new six-month sentence that ran consecutive to his first sentence. He served more than a year in the Special Housing Unit—otherwise known as the hole. He served the remainder of his time in a low-security prison, where he faced other problems.   Erik liked to say that he wasn't a criminal. Yet those who worked in the system did not concern themselves with Erik's self-perception. They judged him in accordance with objective information.   He pleaded guilty to the white-collar crime of wire fraud. A judge sentenced him to serve a 48-month sentence. BOP staff members relied upon Program Statement 5100.08 for his Inmate Security Designation and Custody Classification. The objective scoring showed that he should serve his time inside of a minimum-security Federal Prison Camp. Yet his adjustment in prison resulted in a new scoring. He received a Public Safety Factor that resulted in his serving the remainder of his time in a higher-security environment.     Security in The Federal Bureau of Prisons: At the time of this writing, at the end of 2017, The Federal Bureau of Prisons confines about 185,000 people. About 83% of those people, or 154,844 inmates, serve their time inside Bureau of Prisons facilities. The other people serve their time in privately managed prisons or other types of facilities. Males make up more than 93% of the federal prison population. Those people serve sentences in the following types of security levels:   Minimum-security Federal Prison Camps: 32,189 people, or about 17% of the population Low-security Federal Correctional Institutions: 69,437 people, or about 37% of the population Medium-security Federal Correctional Institutions: 55,377 or about 30% of the population High-security United States Penitentiaries: 21,524 people, or about 12% of the population Unclassified: 6,980 people, or about 4% of the population   Our partner Justin Paperny served time for a white-collar crime. He served his entire sentence in at the Taft Federal Prison Camp, a minimum-security camp. Shon Hopwood served time for armed bank robbery, and he served his entire sentence inside the medium-security Federal Correctional Institution in Pekin, Illinois. I served time for convictions related to selling cocaine. And over the course of 26 years, I served time in every security level.   Developing literacy of Program Statement 5100, also known as the Inmate Security Designation and Custody Classification system, or the Custody and Classification Manuel, helps people who want to master the federal prison system. No one can change the past. At any time, however, we can start sowing seeds for a better future. In our book Earning Freedom: Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term, I show how I started sowing the seeds very early during my journey. The seeds I sowed allowed me to make significant progress in prison.   I took the opposite approach of Erik. He started in a camp. Once he surrendered, Erik made bad decisions that led him to higher-security prisons. I say they're bad decisions, because he told me they were bad decisions.   I started in a high-security United States Penitentiary. As soon as I got there, I started making decisions that would put me on a path to ease my adjustment. By understanding the Inmate Security Designation and Custody Classification system, I laid the foundation carefully. That foundation would allow me to transfer to a medium-security Federal Correctional Institution. Then I transferred to a low-security Federal Correctional Institution. Then, at the soonest possible time, I transferred to a minimum-security Federal Prison Camps.     Understanding Program Statement 5100.08: The Inmate Security Designation and Custody Classification system is an objective system. On our website, we offer a free calculator to help people determine how staff members in the BOP will score them. Simply visit PrisonProfessors.com, click on the “Calculators” button in the main menu, and respond to the questions.   The calculators simulate Program Statement 5100.08, seeking responses to questions on two separate levels:   Base Scoring Custody Scoring   To arrive at the scoring level, respond to 10 separate questions. The response to each question will provide an objective score. Those questions include the following:   What type of detainer do you have, if any? What is the severity of your current offense? How many months do you expect to serve before your scheduled release? What will the BOP say about your criminal history? Do you have a history of escape attempts? Do you have a history of violence? Will staff in the BOP recognize that I voluntarily surrendered to prison? What will the BOP say about your age? What will the BOP say about your education level? What will the BOP say with regard to your history of alcohol or substance abuse during the past five years?   Notice that we always ask what the BOP will say. It's not important what you or anyone else says. We need to assess what the BOP will say in order to calculate your score appropriately.   Program Statement 5100.08 will attach a score to each of your responses to those questions. This score will be known as your “Base Score.” When it comes to the base score, you will note that the questions focus on your past. For the most part, you will notice that they require static answers—meaning that you will not have opportunities to change the outcome. Since you cannot change the past, you must wait for calendar pages to turn to influence the Base Score.   It's important to understand this score as early as possible. You may be able to influence the score during the presentence investigation process.   Once you calculate the Base Score, the next step will require you to answer questions that will lead to your Custody Score. Those questions follow:   What will the BOP say with regard to how much time you've served as a percentage of your sentence? With regard to program participation, will the BOP assess you as average or good? How will the BOP assess your living skills? What will the BOP say with regard to your record of disciplinary infractions? What will the BOP say about the frequency of disciplinary reports you've received in the past year? What will the BOP say about your community ties? What will the BOP say about your gender?   Program Statement 5100.08 will assign a score to each answer that you provide. The sum of those scores will result in your Custody Score. Then, Program Statement 5100.08 will require you to consult a variance table that may either add or subtract from your score.   By taking all factors into consideration, you receive a scoring. That scoring reflects all of your security points. Those security points will determine the type of prison where you will serve your sentence. Your behavior in prison will determine whether you move to higher security levels, and potentially extend your release date, as was the case with Erik. Or if you pursue the path of a master, your behavior in prison will result in your moving to a lower-security prison, and potentially advancing your release date.   These scores will come from your Presentence Investigation Report. If you want to influence these scores, then learn as much as possible before the PSI. We urge you to review the information available on our website. It will help you understand the importance of the PSR, and it will offer guidance on how to influence that PSR. If you need guidance, contact us today.   Higher-Security Prisons as Compared to Lower-Security Prisons The security-level of a prison influences the level of liberty. As stated earlier in this chapter, about 18% of the federal prison population serves time in a minimum-security camp. More than 80% of the federal prison population serves time in higher-security prisons. Regardless of where a person starts the sentence, various factors can influence the security scoring. A change in security scoring can result in a transfer to either higher or lower security prison.   Learn how behavior in prison influences the Inmate Security Designation and Custody Classification. Although nothing but the passing of time will influence the Base Score, the Custody Score is more dynamic. In other words, behavior in prison can result in lowering or raising the Custody Score. By understanding how the Inmate Security Designation and Custody Classification system works, a person can choose to behave in ways that reflects a mastery of the system.     Experience in Different Security Levels: As a founder of Prison Professors, I would be remiss if I did not share what I learned from serving time in prisons of every security level. I started my term in 1987. Initially authorities locked me inside a detention center in Miami. At the time, it was called the Metropolitan Correctional Center. Since then, the BOP changed MCC Miami into FCI Miami. When I started, I didn't understand the system at all. I only cared about getting out of prison. Later, after a jury convicted me and a judge sentenced me, I changed my thought process. I wanted to leave prison successfully. Every decision that I made inside would put me on the trajectory of success.   What types of decisions will you make?   After being sentenced, authorities transferred me to the United States Penitentiary, in Atlanta. I had a 45-year term. Under the laws that existed at the time, I could earn credit for good behavior. As long as I didn't lose any of those credits for good behavior, I could complete that term in 26 years. I started to set goals. I wanted to get out of prison at the soonest possible time. Further, I wanted to make sure that when I returned to society, I would be in the best possible position to succeed. I understood that there were some things I could not control. But I had opportunities to make decisions every day. Those decisions would lead me closer to success, or further away from success.   Coincidentally, Program Statement 5100.08 rewards decisions that I consider to be consistent with success. By avoiding disciplinary infractions in prison, I could put myself on a path to move to lower security levels. It wasn't going to happen overnight. Yet by gradually working through programs in prison, I could begin to influence change. I could assess my environment. Although I couldn't avoid the volatility of prison, I could make choices that would minimize my exposure to problems. I could choose jobs that would be more consistent with my goals. I could maneuver my way into the best possible housing situation. By understanding Program Statement 5100.08, I could succeed in a high-security penitentiary. I did not receive any disciplinary infractions. I earned an undergraduate degree. I successfully coordinated my transfer to the medium-security Federal Correctional Institution of my choice.   Once I got to the next stop, I repeated the process. At the soonest possible time, I transferred from the medium-security Federal Correctional Institution to the low-security Federal Correctional Institution of my choice. By the time I arrived, I had a master's degree. While in the low-security prison, I continued the same pattern. While there, I married the love of my life. And at the soonest possible time, I transferred to a minimum-security camp. While there, I built many relationships that influenced my success in prison and beyond. Indeed, I met my co-founders at Prison Professors while I was serving time inside of those minimum-security federal prison camps.     Get Ready to Master Federal Prison If you or a loved one is facing challenges with the criminal justice system, we urge you to understand the Inmate Security Designation and Custody Classification system. You may research the entire manual by reading Program Statement 5100.08. If you want a quick assessment of how the Bureau of Prisons will score you, turn to our free calculators at PrisonProfessors.com. The more you know about the system, the stronger you will become. As you restore confidence, you'll make better decisions. Those better decisions will show that you're a master of the system.   Regardless of where you serve your sentence, you can make decisions that will lead to a life of meaning and relevance. That said, we ask you to consider Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. We all have the basis need of safety. If you can maneuver your way into less-volatile environments, then we urge you to do so. By understanding the Inmate Security Designation and Custody Classification system, you'll know how to seize upon opportunities to influence the scoring level. The sooner you get started, the better off you will be. Our courses and books at Prison Professors will help.   Contact us today if you want more personal assistance.  

I'm Michael Santos with Prison Professors. Along with my partners, Shon Hopwood and Justin Paperny, we're glad to provide more information about how to prepare for the prison journey. Earlier episodes have given extensive biographical information on us. Complete your own due diligence. You'll see why we're exceptionally well qualified to help anyone who is going into the system.   More importantly, we're well qualified to help people who want to get out of the prison system successfully. Each of us succeeded after prison because we understood how to make good decisions as we worked our way through the journey. Always remember, the right decision at the wrong time is the wrong decision.   This episode is part of our series that we're calling how to prepare for prison. In the previous episode, we explained a bit about the process. As Dr. Stephen Covey advised in his best-selling book, it's always best to seek to understand before we seek to be understood.   In this segment of the Prison Professors podcast, we're going to discuss the importance of understanding stakeholders in the criminal justice system.     Federal Prison Hierarchy To succeed in the federal prison system, it's crucial to understand how it operates. Our partner, Shon Hopwood, tells a story that might help us illustrate the point. When Shon began serving his sentence for armed bank robbery, he wanted out. Many people in prison want out.   Shon read a case that highlighted a favorable decision. He thought the legal ruling might apply to him. Shon wrote a motion and he filed his motion in a court that he thought would grant relief. The judge refused to accept Shon's motion. Instead, the judge offered advice. He suggested that if Shon wanted to get relief in court, it would behoove him to file in an appropriate court that would have jurisdiction on his case.   Obviously, Shon went on to master the judicial system. As Steve Kroft of 60 Minute said, while serving his sentence, Shon became the most successful “jailhouse” lawyer in history. The legal briefs that he wrote for other prisoners resulted in victories in the district courts, circuit courts, and the U.S. Supreme Court. His legal victories changed laws and resulted in liberty for many people in federal prison.   But if Shon did not learn how to master federal prison first, he would not have succeeded in mastering the federal judiciary, or become a skilled jailhouse lawyer. We must take first steps first. And for people going into the prison system, it's essential to understand how the Bureau of Prisons operates.     Branches of Government Like the federal courts, the Federal Bureau of Prisons is a massive bureaucracy. Many years may have passed since some of our readers took a class in civics. As a quick reminder, our nation has three bodies of government. They include the following branches:   The Legislative Branch The Judicial Branch The Executive Branch   Our elected members of Congress make up the Legislative Branch of government. They include representatives from each of the 500+ districts in the United States, and they include the two senators that represent each state. Those members vote on legislation in both the Senate and the House of Representatives. Once they're in agreement, the legislative bills go to the President. If the President signs the legislative bills, they become laws.   In our country, we have more than 90 federal Judicial Districts. For example, in California, there are four separate federal Judicial Districts—including the Northern District Court, the Central District Court, the Southern District Court, and the Eastern District Court. Each of those Districts is part of a Circuit. We separate those Circuits by geographic regions. For example , California is in the Ninth Judicial Circuit. New York is in the Second Judicial Circuit. We have the U.S. Supreme Court that presides over all Circuit and District Courts. We have more than 1,000 federal judges that preside over the various courts. Each of the judges strives to ensure that people receive due process—meaning, the judges strive to apply fairness in the courts for all.   The Executive Branch of government oversees the many different applications of government. Our president appoints people who oversee the different departments. For our purposes, we know that the Attorney General of the United States oversees the Department of Justice. And the Attorney General of the United States oversees the Director of the Bureau of Prisons. For that reason, we must understand how the hierarchy operates.     Politics and Prisoners: Earlier, I encouraged you to complete your due diligence on my partners and me. That way you could assess the veracity of our claim to have mastered our time in federal prison. It takes a lot of discipline to grow in prison. In my case, I went through 26 years.   By the time that I met our co-founder Justin Paperny in the Taft Federal Prison Camp, our country was going through a historic election. The economy was in the tank, sliding into the worst recession in recent memory. Unemployment was on the rise. Justin asked me why I followed the political race so closely.   As a prisoner, I explained, we must live with decisions that come down from the top. The president's perspective on governing will influence the policies that he wants to set. As a prisoner, we must live with those policies. If the president believes that people have a capacity to change, the president will appoint an Attorney General that shares that liberal viewpoint. If the president believes that we need to preserve the systems that are in place, then the president will appoint an Attorney General that shares such a conservative viewpoint. Policy shifts in prison will reflect the perceptions of both the president and the Attorney General.   To illustrate, let us provide two recent examples of such change.   The Second Chance Act provided prison administrators with new discretion regarding halfway house placement. Prior to the Second Chance Act, leaders in The Bureau of Prisons could authorize prisoners to serve the final six months of their sentences in a halfway house. After The Second Chance Act, leaders in The Bureau of Prisons could authorize prisoners to serve the final 12 months of their sentences in a halfway house.   Obviously, from a prisoner's perspective, 12 months in a halfway house would be better than six months in a halfway house. But it was up to the Bureau of Prisons to apply the law.   The U.S. Congress passed The Second Chance Act. But leadership in the BOP has discretion. When President Obama was in office, the Attorney General was Eric Holder. Under that administration, people in prison could have some influence on how much halfway house time they could receive. As a master of federal prison, I succeeded in putting myself on a pathway to get the full 12 months of halfway house. Similarly, as a master in the federal prison system, Justin succeeded in getting the maximum halfway house placement that was available to him.   In 2017, President Donald Trump appointed Jeff Sessions to serve as the Attorney General. Both President Trump and Attorney General Sessions had a different perspective. President Trump and AG Sessions had a conservative perspective, meaning that they believed that people should serve the maximum amount of time in federal prison. The 2017 administration cut funding to halfway houses.   But a master of federal prison would know how to cope with such change.   To prevail on maximum halfway house time—or any other matter pertaining to federal prison—Prison Professors urges people to understand the system. Pursue a strategy to get the best possible outcome, depending upon the political philosophy of the administration in power. The strategy that may result in success during a conservative administration may differ from the strategy that could result in success in a liberal administration.   To master federal prison quickly, make sure that you understand the political philosophy on both a macro and a micro level.     Directors of the Bureau of Prisons: The Bureau of Prisons is a massive organization. It employs more than 40,000 staff members that serve in six different regions. Those regions include federal prisons in most states, halfway houses in all states, regional offices, training centers, and headquarters in Washington D.C. The Director of the Bureau of Prisons presides over the entire bureaucracy. He reports to the Attorney General of the United States.   For the nearly 200,000 federal prisoners, it's important to understand the different roles in the BOP. What is the role of the Director?   Well, the Director must make sure that the prison system is operating in accordance with the wishes of the Attorney General. And the Attorney General wants the Director to operate the Bureau of Prisons in accordance with the political philosophy of the President.   The Director is not going to express concern for individual prisoner issues. Rather, the Director focuses on systemic policies. When prisoners attempt to seek relief from the Director, the prisoner reveals a lack of understanding for how the system operates. Masters understand the system. And they learn how to succeed, given the limitations of the system itself.   Unless a prisoner wants to advocate for systemic change, it doesn't make sense for him to advance arguments at the highest levels of the Bureau of Prisons. In fact, doing so can cause problems. Leaders know that the right decision at the wrong time is the wrong decision. Although people in prison may see many injustices on a systemic level, as masters, we should always have a very clear perspective. How are we defining success? What battles are we striving to win? What price are we willing to pay in pursuit of success over our battles.   By focusing on victory as we define victory, we know where to concentrate our energy. It rarely works in our interest to seek relief from the highest levels of the Federal Bureau of Prisons.   To oversee the Bureau of Prisons, the Director relies upon a large team. That team includes a Deputy Director, several Acting Directors, and several Regional Directors. It would be highly unusual for any of those directors to make decisions regarding any individuals in prison. Rather, the directors rely upon their subordinates. We should expect the subordinates to make decisions in accordance with the political philosophies of the people in power. Directors set policies and oversee budgets. Subordinates carry out those policies.   Federal Prison, an Overview: We know that the Bureau of Prisons is a massive bureaucracy. It includes many different divisions. People who want to master federal prison should broaden their understanding of how it operates. The more people understand, the more likely they become to get on the best trajectory.   Masters seek to understand more so that they can influence more.   Although a later chapter discusses custody and classification levels in detail, we can provide a brief overview here. The Bureau of Prisons categorizes in accordance with security levels. Consider the following:   ADX: This designation refers to an Administrative-Maximum U.S. Penitentiary. It is the highest level of security. Most people who serve time in an ADX start in a lower-security prison. They make decisions in prison that result in new criminal charges, or disciplinary problems. When a team or staff member identifies people in prison as being sufficiently disruptive, they may send them to an ADX penitentiary.   SMU: This designation refers to a Special Management Unit. Like the ADX, the SMU is a highly restrictive prison. Staff members may send people to an SMU when they want to restrict their communication. Although most people who are in an SMU have violent histories, it's important to remember the adage “The pen is mightier than the sword.” If staff members consider a prisoner to be a prolific writer, and the prisoner writes content that staff members consider inflammatory, they may confine the person in an SMU.   USP: This designation refers to a United States Penitentiary. In the broader community, people consider the word penitentiary as being synonymous with prison. But in the Federal Bureau of Prisons, the word penitentiary has a different meaning and connotation. It means high-security. People going to a USP live in restrictive conditions. Staff members consider USPs to be more volatile. They govern USPs in response to population levels that include higher percentages of people who have violent, volatile, and disruptive histories.   FCI: This designation refers to a Federal Correctional Institution. The FCI includes both medium-security and low-security prisons.   FSL: This designation refers to a Federal Satellite Low Security Prison. The people in an FSL have the custody scoring of people in a camp. But they have some issue that prevents them from going to a camp. For example, they may have a detainer of some type, or they may have longer than 10 years to serve.   SCP: This designation refers to a Satellite Prison Camp. The camp is adjacent to a secure prison, and the inmates in the camp provide labor that keeps the prison operating.   FPC: This designation refers to a federal prison camp. It is frequently a stand-alone camp, meaning it is not tied to another prison, as with the SCP.   FCC: This designation refers to a Federal Correctional Complex. A complex will have several prisons of different security levels in a single location. People in one prison do not mix with people in another prison, but they're all in the same geographical location.   FDC, MCC, or MDC: These designations refer detention centers. People in detention centers, ordinarily, await outcomes of judicial proceedings. Although some people serve the entire term in detention centers, or they are assigned to the work cadre—performing maintenance on the prison, they are not necessarily serving time.   FMC: This designation refers to a Federal Medical Center. People who need medical attention may serve all or a portion of their time in an FMC.   FTC: This designation refers to the Federal Transfer Center, in Oklahoma. Prisoners may spend time in the FTC while traveling to other institutions, or they may serve their sentence in the FTC if they're part of a work cadre.   CI: This designation refers to a privately operated federal prison.   CO and RO: These designation refers to the Central Office and the Regional Office. We can use our understanding of the regional office and the central office to influence our placement, or to influence favorable outcomes.   Mastering the federal prison system requires some knowledge of the different types of institutions. The more we know about the Bureau of Prisons and the staff, the better we can position ourselves to get to the best possible environment.   All secure institutions include the following staff members:     Warden: The warden is the CEO of the institution. Wardens have an enormous amount of influence with regard to how the prison operates. Some wardens make themselves approachable. To the extent that a person in prison positions himself well, he can influence the warden's perception.   As a prisoner, it's crucial to begin with a clear understanding of success. Exercise discretion when it comes to approaching a warden—or anyone else. Lay the groundwork first, before asking the warden to intervene on anything. Understand that the warden has enormous power with regard to every person in the prison. In the various books that Prison Professors have written, we described how wardens influenced our success through the journey. Pay close attention to the extensive amounts of back work that we did, and also note how we were selective when requesting assistance.   Associate Wardens: The associate wardens are part of the warden's executive staff. They oversee various departments within the prison. For example, the Associate Warden of Programs will oversee unit staff. The Associate Warden of Operations will oversee facility management. The population level of the prison will influence how many AWs are available.   Department Heads: Department heads oversee specific departments. For example, the Unit Manager oversees all case managers. A Unit Manager reports directly to the Associate Warden of Programs. The Unit Manager will ask inmates to resolve matters directly with the case manager.   Line Staff: Line staff includes case managers, cook supervisors, counselors, landscape foreman, maintenance leaders, and others who work in various departments. They report to their respective department heads.   Case Managers: Case managers oversee all matters that pertain to a person's case. Once the judge sentences a person “To the custody of the attorney general,” that person becomes an “inmate” as far as concerns the system. And case managers will have direct oversight of the inmate. The inmate will not have a lawyer. The inmate must learn how to advocate for himself effectively. Case managers will be a key person to influence. Although policies guide decisions, there is always some discretion. A master will learn how to influence staff members in the Bureau of Prisons in a positive way.   Counselors: Counselors in federal prison do not offer the type of counseling that someone outside of prison would expect. Rather, they perform jobs like approving visiting lists and assigning jobs. It's best to understand the limited role that counselors play in federal prison. That way, people spare themselves the disappointment that comes from expecting too much.     Influence and Manipulation At Prison Professors, we discuss the long-term approach of influencing a positive outcome. That differs from shortsighted efforts to manipulate staff members. To influence does not mean to manipulate.   For obvious reasons, staff members are extremely cynical. Every day, staff members in prison work with convicted felons. Many of those people have criminal mindsets. That is why staff members expect inmates to lie. They expect inmates to do or say anything that will ease their burden. Masters of the system do not whine or complain about this reality. Rather, they learn how to work within the system, and how to succeed in spite of the challenges.   Masters know that the Bureau of Prisons invests a considerable amount of resources in staff development and staff training. Part of that training teaches staff members how “to be firm but fair.” The Bureau of Prisons wants to make sure the public is safe, the prisons are safe, and the staff members are safe. As such, it's extremely conservative. Training encourages staff members to rely upon policy when making decisions, and it trains them to interpret those policies conservatively. For that reason, it's crucial for masters to understand all policies. By understanding the opportunity costs that come with every decision, masters can make better progress than those who flounder.   If you want to master federal prison, work through all of the programs available through PrisonProfessors.com. You will learn our strategies for making exceptional progress in prison. More importantly, you will learn how to succeed upon release.    

I'm Michael Santos and I want to welcome you to another Prison Professors podcast episode. Earlier episodes provided you with the background information on my partners and me. Today we're recording a series of five podcasts that will help our listeners understand a bit more about the process of going into the criminal justice system.   As of now, I have five episodes planned. They include the following:   Understanding the Process Understanding the stakeholders Understanding the custody and classification system How to Prepare for Prison Why Writing a Narrative Can Assist You Through the Journey   Understanding the Process   We're going to start by paraphrasing Stephen Covey. In his timeless bestseller, The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, Dr. Covey advised that we should try to understand before we try to be understood.   That guidance applies to anyone who wants to master prison. We're recording this series of episodes of the Prison Professors podcast specifically for people who anticipate that they may go into the criminal justice system. Those who have a solid understanding of the system may want to skip this episode.   Our goal is to help listeners make decisions that will put them on the path for the best possible outcome.   And the best possible outcome requires good decisions. To make good decisions going forward, we need to understand how the process works. So let's begin with some instructions on how someone goes into the criminal justice system.     The Investigation: Investigators frequently start the process. Those investigators may work as part of the SEC, the IRS, the FBI, or the DEA. Allegations of misconduct can lead to an investigation. During that investigation phase, agents will collect evidence. The agents will work closely with federal prosecutors. The federal prosecutors will make a decision on how to proceed. If they want to charge a person with a crime, they have different options.   But once investigators and prosecutors decide to bring charges, especially in the federal system, the person becomes a defendant. The Charge: When prosecutors choose to bring a case against someone, chances for a conviction become exceedingly high. At first, the person may be a “target” of an investigation. The investigation can take place secretly, with a grand jury.   In the grand jury proceeding, a prosecutor puts together a group of citizens. Those citizens listen to evidence that the prosecutor presents. That evidence includes live testimony from investigators and other witnesses. Grand jury members listen to the witnesses respond to the leading questions from the prosecutor. At some point, the prosecutor will ask the members of the grand jury to “indict” the target of the investigation.   In some cases, prosecutors use a less formal way of charging people. Rather than going through a grand jury, they may file a “criminal information.” The criminal information can result from an agreement that the prosecutor makes with the defense team.   Regardless of how prosecutors bring charges, things change. To start, a person becomes a defendant. We have all heard stories that in our country, we have a presumption of innocence. Yet few people who have been charged with a federal crime recognize that distinction.   Statistics show the consequences. We encourage our listeners to do their own research. Simply type into Google “United States Attorneys' Annual Statistical Report.” Or download it from our website at PrisonProfessors.com. Read the data. That data should help people make better decisions as they advance through the process.   At our website, PrisonProfessors.com, we offer an abundance of articles, blogs, and videos that will help people understand more about the criminal justice system. Learn as much as possible. We do not dispense legal advice, but we provide a lot of content that will help our audience make better decisions.   Our co-founder, Shon Hopwood, is a lawyer. But he does not use our site to provide legal advice. To participate in litigation, Shon would need to know details of the case. Details of a case require many hours of research, and time comes at a premium. We trust that our listeners will have a solid legal team in place to advise them.   On the other hand, we members of our audience to understand the opportunity costs that come with every decision. Those who want to master prison quickly should realize implications of every decision along the way. We make better decisions when we have a more complete understanding of the process.       The Defense Attorney: Once prosecutors charge a person, the defendant will need a defense attorney. If a client does not have the resources to hire a defense attorney, the Court will provide an attorney. The court-appointed attorney may be a part of the federal defenders. Or the court-appointed at torney may be a defense attorney that agrees to work on the CJA panel. Every federal judicial district has a roster of attorneys who are experienced in federal court.   Regardless of whether the defense attorney serves on the panel or with the federal defenders, that person will have been exposed to extensive amounts of training and resources. Federal defenders and panel attorneys are well qualified to represent defendants in federal court.   Other defendants may retain counsel. Attorneys who have extensive practice in federal court charge a premium. Hourly fees for defense attorneys with experience in federal court depend upon how long the attorney has been practicing and geographical locations. Defendants should expect to spend tens of thousands for any representation in federal court. For those who lack access to capital, we urge defendants to use federal defenders rather than hire an attorney who lacks experience in federal court.   Our team has a process for vetting defense attorneys in federal court. We also offer consulting services to assist defendants who need this guidance. Your defense attorney will become an essential part of your team, so choose wisely.     The Plea: If prosecutors bring charges against a defendant, a plea hearing will follow. That plea hearing can happen quickly, or it can be postponed. We work with some defendants who may wait for years before they actually face charges and enter a plea. In most cases, people enter not-guilty plea hearings. Then, after defense attorneys work out the most favorable deal, defendants change their plea to guilty in accordance with the plea agreement.   Let's talk about pleading guilty.     Pleading Guilty: Entering a guilty plea is a formal proceeding. There will not be much conversation. Early in the hearing, the defense attorney will let the judge know that the defendant wants to enter a plea, or a change of plea. The judge will then ask the defendant to rise. The defendant must swear to tell the truth, under penalty of perjury. The judge will let the defendant know that he is not bound by any deal the prosecutor may have made. The defendant must acknowledge that he understands. After the judge is satisfied that the defendant understands, the judge will read each criminal charge. Then the judge will ask the defendant if he is guilty of the charge. The defendant will not have an opportunity to explain or elaborate. He will simply say, “I plead guilty.” Opportunities for explanations and elaborations will come much later.     Pleading Not Guilty: If the defendant persists with a “not guilty” plea, a trial will follow. The trial can last for days, weeks, or months. During the trial, prosecutors will present evidence. The defense attorney will argue to discredit the evidence. The judge will decide what evidence the jury will hear. And in time, the jury will render a verdict. If the verdict is not guilty, the judge will release the defendant—and he can go home. If the verdict is guilty, the process will continue with a Presentence Investigation.     Presentence Investigation: A federal probation officer will begin the Presentence Investigation (PSI) by reviewing a report from the federal prosecutor. That prosecutor's report will present the government's version of events. Probation officers will cut and paste the prosecutor's version of events into a report that is known as the Presentence Investigation Report, or PSR.   To continue the investigation, the probation officer will speak with the defendant. The defense attorney should be present during the PSI interview. If a defense attorney chooses not to prepare the defendant for the PSI, the defendant will have a red flag; he is not being advised appropriately. Defendants should take every effort to prepare for the PSI, as it will have lasting implications. Those implications stick around long after the sentencing hearing.   During the PSI interview, the probation officer will ask the defendant about what he or she has to say about the offense. We advise defendants to prepare for this question. Ideally, the defendant will have written a narrative in advance. The defendant can explain the process by thinking through the content of that narrative.   According to video interviews our team has done with federal judges, which are available on our YouTube channel, that PSR can have an enormous influence at sentencing. Further, it will have an influence on placement in the Bureau of Prisons. The PSR will influence the journey in prison. It will influence when the defendant transfers back into the community. And it will influence the level of liberty the defendant has while on Supervised Release. For those reasons, we urge defendants to take every opportunity to understand the presentence investigation, and to prepare.   Fortune, as you know, always favors those who prepare.   The probation officer will conclude the investigation with an extensive presentence investigation report. The PSR will include what the probation officer learned from the defendant and also from other people who are related to the defendant. That may include family members, it may include employers, it may include creditors, it may include victims.   The PSR will include both objective and subjective information. The objective information includes information about the conviction. It will also include information that will influence the federal sentencing guidelines. Those federal sentencing guidelines are complex. We urge defendants to learn how various factors influence those guidelines. Also, it's crucial for defendants to know how they can work to get the most favorable outcome during the sentencing hearing. It all starts with the presentence investigation report.     Sentencing Hearing: Learn and understand about sentencing hearings before the inevitable date. Unfortunately, when federal prosecutors bring charges, more than 80 percent of the defendants face a sentencing hearing. Influencing the outcome with a well thought-out sentence-mitigation strategy—that is essential. Learn what steps you can take to move the needle in your direction. Although every case is different, and requires a highly customized approach, we can provide some bullet point suggestions.   For example:   Think about the perspective of all stakeholders. Their perception is much more important than your perception. Learn more about stakeholders in the following chapter. Think about the victims of the crime. If you don't think your crime has a victim, then you're not thinking about the stakeholder's perceptions. From the stakeholders' perception, the crime has victims. Who are they? How have they suffered? Prepare to reveal what you've learned from the process. In what ways have you grown as a result of this experience? Execute a plan that will differentiate you from other defendants. Think about the judge's perception. Influence the process by showing what steps you've taken to make things right. Help the judge understand how you will adjust your life in light of this experience. Convince the judge that you'll never appear in Court as a criminal defendant again.     Designation in the Bureau of Prisons: In some cases, a comprehensive strategy will result in an alternative sanction that does not include time in custody. Our team at Prison Professors does its best to help defendants who want to advance arguments for a non-custodial sentence. No one can change the past, but we all can sow seeds for a better future. Unfortunately, in most cases, sentences include prison. When prison becomes part of the journey, the next step after the sentencing hearing will be for the Bureau of Prisons to assign the appropriate prison.   Several factors go into the equation of prison designations. The Bureau of Prisons relies upon the latest edition of Program Statement 5100 to determine prison designations. The complicated matrix assigns points to objective factors that include criminal history, type of offense, severity of crime, and so forth. A variance table makes additional adjustments. Public Safety Factors and Management Variables can also influence the custody and classification. Our website includes a calculator that calculates the point system.   Besides custody and classification scoring, the Bureau of Prisons will also consider judicial recommendations, medical needs, prison population levels, institutional needs, and geographical locations. All of those factors go into consideration of the Bureau of Prisons' decisions. Then, the BOP will order the prisoner to begin serving the sentence in a specific prison.   Defendants should learn everything they can about the designation process. The more they understand, the better prepared they become to influence where they will serve the time. Although we can master any environment, the earlier we get started in mastering the process, the better off we are.   Isn't that always the case in life?     Serving the Sentence: Success through any prison journey begins with a clear understanding. When we can define what success looks like on the other side of the journey, we have a start. The heart of this book will describe how to take us from where we are today, to the life we want to create. Although many of us would like to change the past, we master the system when we deal with the world as it exists—rather than as we would like it to be.   Our team at PrisonProfessors.com will help you every step of the way.     Outro: Thank you for listening to Chapter 1 of our free ebook, How to Master Federal Prison—Quickly. To get the entire free ebook at once, take one of the following actions:   Text LIBERTY to 44222, or Simply visit PrisonProfessors.com and enter your email.   We will send you a copy instantly.   Shon Hopwood and Justin Paperny are my partners at Prison Professors. I'm Michael Santos. Our team creates digital content and we offer consulting services.   We assist people who face challenges with prosecution, sentencing, and prison.   We also assist agencies that want to improve outcomes in their institutions. Our clients include individuals, law firms, state and federal prison systems, the courts, and school districts.   Visit us at PrisonProfessors.com or contact Justin at 818-424-2220 to learn more. Subscribe to our podcast on iTunes. And please leave us an honest review!   Stay tuned for another 20 to 30 minute episode with Prison Professors.  

Hello, hello. My name is Michael Santos and I welcome you to our new Prison Professors podcast. As stated in the intro, I'm part of a team that includes two co-founders, Shon Hopwood and Justin Paperny. Every day we'll publish a new Prison Professors episode. What do we mean by every day? We mean every day. Why would we do this? Well, we have a lot of reasons. Primarily, we want to teach our audience about America's prison system, the people it holds, and strategies for growing through prison successfully.  Over the past few years, we've seen a lot more interest in the prison system. The big interest began when Michele Alexander published her amazing book, The New Jim Crow. Ms. Alexander's book launched an entire movement that brought awareness to mass incarceration. Since then, Netflix dramatized Piper Kernan's book, Orange is the New Black. At the same time, television networks began publishing all types of shows that sensationalized the prison experience. Recently, Ear Hustle became all the rage by profiling lives of men serving time inside of San Quentin.  Prisons have become mainstream. But the message of intergenerational failure isn't something that we want to promote. At Prison Professors, we offer something different.  When we prepared to launch Prison Professors, people questioned the graphics we chose. Overall, people didn't relate to people in suits going to prison. And it's true. Our prisons incarcerate disenfranchised people of color more than anyone else. Our team does a lot of work to reform prison and sentencing systems across the United States. With our Prison Professors podcast, however, we strive to disrupt the thinking about America's prison system. Our logo may be one way to start. Our nation confines more than 2 million people. We incarcerate more people per capita than any nation on earth. At Prison Professors, we don't complain about these troubling statistics. Nor do we make any judgment on the influences or decisions that led people to prison. We know that anyone can go to prison.  With our podcast, we strive to show people the best possible outcomes. We strive to disrupt the thinking of taxpayers and anyone going into the prison system. Rather than complaining about how bad our prison system is, or why mass incarceration represents one of the greatest social injustices of our time, we strive to show people pathway to success. Our team has always believed that we need to live in the world as it exists—not as we would like it to be. The truth is, our government has passed thousands of laws that can lead people to prison. And a felony conviction can result in lifelong complications. Those complications derail prospects for happiness. They can have ancillary consequences that include under employment upon release—or no employment. They can lead to a lack of access to housing, to financing, to social services. Those are realities. At Prison Professors, we want to help people who must content with such struggles. We want to show pathways to success in spite of such struggles. For that reason, we offer new content every day.  We will structure our Prison Professors podcast in one of two formats. Either I'll narrate an episode or I'll interview a guest. Some episodes will stand-alone. Other episodes will work together as part of a series on a specific subject. For example, you may enjoy our upcoming multi-part series on how to master prison quickly. Or you may want to learn from our series on Scott Tucker, which we title Billionaires Preparing for Prison.  At Prison Professors, our team helps people master the prison experience. Through our podcast, we'll bring more awareness. And we'd like to offer suggestions on how people can make it through the journey strong, with their dignity in tact. Our Prison Professors podcast offers daily insight for people who want the best possible outcome.  My co-founders and I have a great deal of experience with the prison system. Through our website at PrisonProfessors.com, we offer an index with notes on all shows. We encourage you to visit PrisonProfessors.com. Enter your name to become a member of our mailing list, or follow us on social media. Subscribe to our channel on YouTube and you'll receive a notice each time we feature a new video. If you subscribe to our Prison Professors Facebook page, you'll learn about efforts we're making to improve outcomes of our nation's prison system. In episodes two and three, I'll introduce you to my two co-founders. You may be familiar with their work already In October of 2017, 60-Minutes featured a segment on Shon Hopwood. Shon also describes his story in his best-selling book, Law Man: Memoirs of a Jailhouse Lawyer. Law Man is relevant to listeners of the Prison Professors podcast for many reasons. Shon's inspiring story shows that regardless of what bad decisions a person has made in the past, an individual can start sowing seeds that lead to success.  The FBI arrested Shon in 1998 for a series of armed bank robberies. A U.S. District Court Judge sentenced him to a term that would require Shon to spend more than 10 years in federal prison. Yet Shon found a way to prosper inside. He studied case law. He wrote briefs that brought victories for people in district courts, in circuit courts, and in the U.S. Supreme Court. After his release, Shon earned his undergraduate degree and he earned a law degree. He clerked for two federal judges. Now Shon serves as a tenure-track professor at Georgetown Law School.  Without a doubt, Shon Hopwood is a success story. He is also a co-founder with Justin and me at PrisonProfessors.com and the Prison Professors podcast.  Justin Paperny is our other co-founder. His skills as a young baseball player led to Justin's scholarship at the University of Southern California. After earning an undergraduate degree, Justin went on to a career as a stockbroker. He managed assets for professional athletes and hedge funds. As a result of his failure to report a Ponzi scheme, authorities charged Justin with the crime of violating securities laws.  I met Justin at the Taft Federal Prison Camp, in California. We became friends soon after he arrived, in 2008. We began to engineer a strategy that would lead to Prison Professors and other business opportunities while we were still serving time. Justin and I understood that many people face challenges with the criminal justice system. A lack of understanding can make matters worse. In some cases, the wrong decisions can bring disastrous results.  While serving time in the Taft camp, Justin and I worked together. We crafted plans that would lead to the best possible outcome for anyone who has concerns about the criminal justice system. Upon Justin's release, he began building the properties we would need to bring our products and services to market. We now have several platforms that include:  PrisonProfessors.com MichaelSantos.com WhiteCollarAdvice.com PrisonNewsBlog.com BrandingFast.com, as well as our Prison Professors YouTube channel, Facebook page, and Twitter feed. We encourage you to follow us everywhere. You'll learn all about Shon and Justin in episodes two and three. I'll share my story with listeners during the remainder of this episode. As I said at the start, my name is Michael Santos. My journey through the criminal justice system followed some bad decisions I began making when I was a young man. In 1984, I was 20 years old and I started selling cocaine. When I was 23, in 1987, authorities arrested me. After a lengthy trial, a jury convicted me of operating a Continuing Criminal Enterprise.  We were at the dawn of our nation's war on drugs and I faced a possible sentence of life in prison. I'd never been incarcerated before, and I didn't know what to expect.  Like many people who go into the criminal justice system for the first time, I only wanted one thing. That was to get out! My ignorance of the system led to some bad decisions, and those bad decisions resulted in my serving much longer than I should have served.  During an awkward transition between the conviction and my sentencing date, I decided to begin preparing for a better outcome. Rather than worrying about what was going to happen to me, I started thinking about ways that I could prepare for a brighter future. We reveal this story in our book: Earning Freedom: Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term.  Earning Freedom, along with our other books, are available through our website at PrisonProfessors.com. Readers of Earning Freedom will learn that leaders like Socrates, Viktor Frankl, Nelson Mandela, and others inspired me. Leaders like Steve Jobs and Bill gates taught me to think differently, Instead of dwelling on the problems, I needed to focus on solutions.  From those leaders, I learned to chart my own path from struggle to prosperity. That path through prison included a three-pronged focus. I would work to:  Earn academic credentials. 2. I would work to Contribute to society in meaningful, measurable ways, and 3, I would work to Build a support network. That three-pronged path led me through 9,500 days as federal prisoner, number 16377-004. I concluded my prison term on August 12, 2013.  When I went into the prison system, I didn't know what to expect. My judge sentenced me to serve a 45-year sentence. I learned that if I avoided disciplinary infractions, I could conclude that sentence in 26 years. But that was a long time for me to contemplate. I was only 23 when I started, so I hadn't yet been alive as long as the system would expect me to serve.  What was the best possible outcome?  I didn't know at the time. But I started to think. Instead of dwelling on the time that I had to serve, I began thinking about the life I would lead when I got out of prison. How would society judge me? Would I be able to find employment? Would the decades I served in prison anchor me in a cycle of failure?  To put the length of time into context, take today's date. Add 26 years. Think of the challenges to maintain a high level of energy and a high level of discipline over that length of time. It's not easy to maintain a positive attitude while weeks turn into months, months turn into years, and years turn into decades.  By reading about others, I found a key to keeping a strong mental attitude. It begins with defining success. If we train our mind to see the best possible outcome, we can start engineering a new path. That path can lead us from where we are to where we want to go. To become successful, regardless of where we are, we need to define success.  I learned that lesson from Socrates. I was still lying in the Pierce County Jail awaiting sentencing when I read a story of The Crito. Socrates lived longer than 2,500 years ago. Back then, laws prohibited people in the elite class from teaching the poor. Yet Socrates believed that every human being had value. He willingly taught everyone. Despite warnings from authorities, Socrates continued to teach. Eventually, he was tried and convicted. Judges sentenced him to death.  At the time that I found the story on Socrates, I didn't have much of an education. I never would have read a philosophy book if I were not beginning my life in struggle. Yet when I read Socrates, I learned a great deal. I learned lessons that would frame my adjustment decisions through prison.  Socrates made principled decisions. Through him, I learned how to make principled decisions. Rather than run away like a coward from problems he created, Socrates said that he would stand and face his punishment. He would die with his dignity intact.  Socrates taught me to think differently. Instead of whining about problems that my own decisions created, I would need to take the punishment. I would need to figure out how I could get the best possible outcome.  I especially value Socrates' lessons on how to ask better questions. Many people have heard about the art of Socratic questioning. As I began to serve my lengthy term in prison, the questions I asked had a monumental influence on how I would adjust inside. As a young man going into the prison system, I felt as if my world was completely imploding. I was married, but my wife was divorcing me. All of the ill-gotten gains I received from selling cocaine were gone. I was starting a journey that would require decades in prison. I'd spend it alone, without any money. What would my life be like when I got out? That was a good question. It prompted me to think in terms of how my life would be if I didn't make some changes.  I learned to stop dwelling on my own problems. Instead, I began to focus on the best possible outcome. It's important to remember the qualifiers: “best possible outcome,” with the keyword being “possible.”  Obviously, I would have liked to get out. But getting out wasn't a possibility. My conviction carried a mandatory-minimum sentence of 10 years. The statute gave my judge discretion to impose a life sentence.  Regardless of what decision my judge made, I had to make better decisions. Since the law required my judge to sentence me to a minimum of 10 years, I had to think about that. What would be the best possible outcome in 10 years?  I began thinking about the people I would meet. The world would move on over a decade. I would be stuck in prison. If I didn't create a deliberate adjustment plan, after 10 years, I would only know other people who were in prison. And how would those people influence my future?  I hated being in prison. I mean I really hated it. I wanted out. But I couldn't get out. What kind of life would I have after 10 years if I adjusted to the ways of the prison? How would I talk? How would the words I chose influence the way that other people perceived me?  Unless I adjusted well while inside, I would face real problems when I got out. I wouldn't have any money. I wouldn't have a support network. I wouldn't have any work experience. I could get stuck in a cycle of failure unless I created a course of action that would lead to success.  By reading about Socrates, I learned how to introspect. I learned how to assess influences that led to my troubles. I was in prison because a jury convicted me for crimes related to selling cocaine. Yet in truth, my bad decisions began long before I sold cocaine. If I made better decisions, Socrates convinced me that I could get out of prison as a better man, with more opportunities.  Better decisions would begin by thinking about the people I would meet in the future. Or rather, thinking about the people I wanted to meet in the future.  If I were going to persuade employers to believe in me, what would they expect me to accomplish while I was in prison? That was one question I had to answer.  If I wanted more liberty from a probation officer, what could I do while in prison to influence his decisions? That was another question that I had to answer.  If I wanted to launch businesses in the future, how could I persuade customers to believe in me even though I'm a convicted felon? I had to overcome challenges for the rest of my life.  Those questions inspired me. They set me on the three-pronged approach that I described earlier in this introductory episode. I would work to:  Earn academic credentials. 2. I would work to Contribute to society in meaningful, measurable ways, and 3, I would work to Build a support network. Those three concepts became my compass. I tried to make every decision inside in accordance with those three principles. It's a strategy that Rick Warren later wrote about in his book The Purpose Filled Life.  Even from the depths of a prison cell, I could ask questions that would improve my outcome. I wanted the best possible outcome. For me, that meant being able to return to society successfully. Even if I served multiple decades in prison, I wanted to return unscathed. Regardless of how much time I served, I didn't want others to know by looking at me that I was once a prisoner. With that guidance from Socrates and others, I began to find my way. The strategy influenced the books I read. Strategy influenced the social network I developed, and every other decision I made while serving my sentence. As a result, I earned university degrees. I became a published author. I built a strong support network. I even got married to the love of my life, Carole. Work that I completed in prison allowed me to earn an income to support Carole.  When I finished my sentence after 26 years, I returned to society more than $100k in the bank. I could use those funds to launch my life.  That didn't happen by accident. It convinced me that success comes with good strategy. And good strategy is what my partners and I teach through the Prison Professors podcast. We teach a pursuit of excellence. And we show that if we could do it, anyone can do it.  I concluded my obligation to the Bureau of Prisons on August 12, 2013. A few weeks later, I began teaching as an adjunct professor at San Francisco State University. While working there, I began creating products and services to help improve outcomes of our nation's prison system. Those products and services now contribute to our company at PrisonProfessors.com.  Our clients include individuals who are going into the system. We also have contractual relationships with the Bureau of Prisons, the California Department of Corrections, the Washington State Department of Corrections, and many other large groups. Federal judges, federal probation officers, and U.S. Attorneys, as well as many law firms have purchased our products and services. We sell to the corporate sector, to sales organizations, and to anyone who wants to succeed after struggle.  It's a big market. Because regardless of where we are today, we all face struggle at one time or another in our lives.  If you research our team at Prison Professors, you'll see our authenticity. Both Shon Hopwood and Justin Paperny have my 100% confidence. And I consider it an honor to work with each of them. Each of us will work hard to prove worthy of your trust.  We look forward to revealing more through our Prison Professors podcast. Expect us to launch new episodes every day. We will publish show notes on our website at PrisonProfessors.com. When we conduct interview-style podcasts, to the extent possible, we'll record in both a video format and an audio format. You can watch the videos on our YouTube channel or on our website.  We'll ask you to support the Prison Professors podcast by subscribing to us on iTunes. If you choose to subscribe, please rate the show with the number of stars you deem appropriate. Leave us an honest review. Your reviews and subscriptions will persuade iTunes to increase our distribution. The more distribution we have, the more effective we will be at spreading the message on steps we can take to improve outcomes of America's prison system.  That is my story. In future episodes, opportunities will open for me to reveal more. Let me tell you what you can expect in the upcoming episodes. As I mentioned, episodes two and three will introduce you to my partners, Shon Hopwood and Justin Paperny. After that, we're going to present a series on how to master prison. Then we'll follow with interviews.  If you'd like to be a guest on our show, please reach out through Prison Professors.com. Check out our podcast link. And connect.

On today's episode of Felony Friday Israel Torres joins the show to share what it was like to have his life sentence commuted by President Obama. Israel was sentenced to life in prison at the age of twenty-one for a nonviolent drug offense. He thought he would be serving out his life sentence until President Obama commuted his sentence and granted Israel his freedom. Now that Israel has rejoined society he is contributing value and proving every day that non-violent drug offenders can do great things once given a chance to prove their worth on the outside. A few months ago Israel appeared Michael Santos' Earning Freedom Podcast. Michael is a friend of the Lions of Liberty Podcast and was gracious enough to connect us with Israel to set up this interview today. This episode is a little longer than most. Make sure to listen to the entire show, because at the end host [...] Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Today we welcome Michael Santos onto Felony Friday. When Michael was twenty-three years old he was sentenced to forty-five-years in prison for drug trafficking. With credit and good behavior he was released after serving twenty-six years. During his incarceration he published several books, earned his bachelor's degree, master's degree, and built a significant savings through publishing and trading stocks. Within three weeks after his release from prison he was hired as an adjunct professor at San Francisco State University. Since his release Michael has focused his energy on teaching lessons that empower the incarcerated to live a life of relevance before, during, and after confinement.  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In this episode of the Lions of Liberty Podcast, Felony Friday author and all-around swell chap John Odermatt returns to the show for another edition of the Felony Report! John and host Marc Clair take a look at the past month of Felony Friday articles, starting with an attempt to answer the somewhat clickbaity question “Should Big Banks Be Treated the Same as People?” John and Marc look at the a case of a harmless high school prank which has seen two teenage girls face felony charges, which prompts Marc to recount the legal troubles he had following a senior prank in high school. They then discuss John's recent appearance on Michael Santos' Earning Freedom podcast, and what people can learn from Michael Santos and the great work he is doing to help those f [...] Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Lions of Liberty's own John Odermatt recently appeared on the Earning Freedom Podcast with Michael Santos. John and Michael had a great discussion centering around the “plight of felons” felt by so many today. We hope you'll enjoy this interview, and be sure to check out the Earning Freedom Podcast! From MichaelSantos.com: John Odermatt is a community leader. He works together with Marc Clair in spreading news about how we can improve our nation's democracy. They produce the top rated “Lions of Liberty” podcast. In addition, John co-hosts the Felony Report [...] Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices