incarcerated writers

Aging in prison meant realizing my son was also a victim of my crime due to my absence from his life. I try to do what I can on visits to help my son succeed.

Although my artistic pursuits began with material necessity, they have become a way for me to express myself and find inner peace within the oppressive environment in which I am confined.

In prison, there is no space to grieve. I kept thinking that if only I was home, I could have given her the support she needed.

Six people on North Carolina’s death row have been found innocent since I’ve been here.

My checks came out to $300-400 weekly for about 70 hours of labor.

Two years after Elena’s death, I try to understand why I was given a child just to lose her. 

If I protect and guide someone else’s child in here, maybe someone will do mine out there.

I experienced my first childbirth while I was incarcerated in a county jail.

Death row prisoners rarely get last meals, writes Lyle May, who is on death row in North Carolina. But on the night of an execution, the prison staff break room is full of cookies and cake.

At Kentucky’s Northpoint Training Center, incarcerated people are not allowed to participate in programs until they’re at least four years away from their parole board date—robbing people of years of educational opportunities.

The ACLU says the state’s policy is the “most restrictive” in the nation.

Securus Technologies says a “technical glitch” last week caused the deletion of Washington prisoners’ writings. They offered compensation of two e-stamps—a value of less than $1.