David’s Story

What first drew you to All Kings? 

Honestly, I was originally just looking to make connections. I was running a men’s group for men impacted by the system at Exodus Transitional Community, called Broken Chains. The group was supporting men in making the transition from incarceration to being back out in society. A lot of times we don’t deal with the trauma that happens when we’re incarcerated, and it comes out of us in society. So I wanted to find other groups that dealt with trauma and expose them to our group. 

Someone mentioned All Kings, and introduced me to two of the members, Raul and Andrew. They told me there was a Nature Quest coming up. Since I love to camp, I thought, “Let me go experience what All Kings has to offer before bringing it back to the group.”

What was your own involvement in the criminal justice system before that? 

Well, my involvement with the criminal justice system started a long time before my incarceration. You know, I witnessed in my community all sorts of interactions with the police.

But my world took a different turn in 1979 at the age of 17. I would find myself involved in the same system that my older brother was involved in. Then one day the FBI was kicking in my door. They placed guns to my head, and they said if I moved they would kill me. They literally said they came to kill me. I was thrown out of the bed, handcuffed, and quickly escorted out of the building. 

I found myself being interrogated by FBI agents, scared. Then I was taken in front of a magistrate, who placed a half a million dollars bail on my head. I knew then I was in a world of trouble. And I was not going to see society again for a long time. These incidents involved interstate business, and so I was charged in the state of Connecticut, because I was too young to be federally charged. There I received 20-40 years. And in New York I received 8-25 years, running consecutively, from the time in Connecticut. 

I was numb. I couldn’t believe that I was involved in this situation. I couldn’t believe that a 17-year-old would face that type of time in prison, but that’s what they gave me. And my life turned for the worst. 

Did you go to juvenile prison or adult prison?

They said they would send me to a juvenile prison for a couple of years, and then I would be transferred to an adult prison. But the mind state I was in, I thought, if you’re going to send me to an adult prison, let’s go ahead and do it. And I didn’t want to be in a kiddy joint with guys running wild and get myself in worse trouble. So in 1981, I was transported back to the state of New York to face my New York charges. 

I wasn’t in jail but 3 days, and I found myself in the midst of a riot that took place in the jail. It was my first introduction to the type of environment that I would have to live in. It was my first introduction to the CERT Team, the Correctional Central Emergency Response Team. They sent that team inside that jail, and I have never witnessed a group of sadistic, brutal people in all my life. I watched grown men get nightsticks put up their rectum. I watched grown men vomiting and crying and pissing on themselves. They kept us in that yard for 12 hours with plastic handcuffs behind our backs. They made us stand up. And if you fell down, you were brutally beaten and placed back on your feet.

They had a German Shepherd in the yard, and as you entered the yard they had this gauntlet of correctional officers, and they would beat you, and if you failed they would stomp you. And at the end of this gauntlet there was this German Shepherd. And mind you, you’re butt naked, handcuffed behind your back, and this individual takes this German Shepherd and puts it up to your genitals and says, ‘say hello to Kelly.’ To this day, I have never forgotten that German Shepherd's name. 

What was the impact of that experience on you?

After that experience I couldn’t believe that human beings could treat any other humans in that way. I hated everything in a correctional uniform. I didn’t care if you were black, white, or whatever. If you were in that uniform I hated you with a passion. I started to hate life in general, hate myself. All my human emotions left me. And when I say I was in a dark place, I was truly in a dark place. To feel inhuman, to not care about another human being. I became so deep in darkness that the correctional officers started calling me Black Satan. 

And I didn’t care nothing about violence. If you messed with me, one of us was going to die. I’d slit your throat and watch you bleed out and smile at you. And I told myself I wasn’t going to mess with nobody. I wasn’t this bad dude, or this gangster. I was just a kid scared, but at the same time I had been exposed to such a degree of violence that I wasn’t afraid to hurt people. So my policy was, if you messed with me, and I wasn’t messing with you. I’m going to set an example so that everyone around me, when they see what I’m going to do with you, I ain’t no longer have to worry about you tangling with me. You know that if you tangle with me, it’s going to end with you having to kill me. 

What was the beginning of your change?

Well, I lived that life for 10 years, until I was introduced to a group of men that were former Black Panther members, who were now in a group called the Black Liberation Army. Most of these guys were lifers or political prisoners. They took me under their wing and started teaching me, and I got a GED. 

Because by the time I was 17 years old, I had a 3rd grade education. And so I’m with these gentlemen, and they’re teaching me things I never imagined. They’re teaching me how to love again, because they’re teaching me that love is the greatest thing that human being can feel for another human being. 

So I’m feeling good again, but I’m still stuck in this violent world. I’m learning what the Aryan Brotherhood is, and the neo-Nazis, and white supremacy. I’m in an environment that is segregated. I’m watching men die. The first act of violence that I saw when I entered this prison, was a caucasian inmate sneak up in the mess hall behind another caucasian inmate. And he took this dagger and put it through this guys back. And the dagger was so long it went out his front. And when he pulled it out all you could see was the blood squirting out both sides. And this gentlemen fell right there and bled out. And no one felt anything. Everyone walked right past his body like he wasn’t nothing. 

These were the things I was exposed to. Not knowing these things were never going to leave me. Not knowing that I’m one day going to have nightmares from my own violence while inside, which I can’t mention. But to have to live with knowing that you’re responsible for hurting other human beings. I didn’t know that those things was gonna carry out with me once I was released. 

When were you released?

In 1998. They gave me 40 dollars and a bus ticket. My mom and brother had both died while I was inside. And these guys shook my hand and said, ‘we’ll see you later.’ And I didn’t know what that ‘see you later’ was, but what they meant was that the odds of you making it in society is so slim we almost guarantee we’ll see you back in this prison again. 

And what I found was that the trauma I had witnessed as a kid, and witnessed while I was incarcerated, all those things were going to play a role in my return to society. I felt myself doing things without knowing why I was doing them. Why, when I go down to the subway, do I have to stand with my back to the corner? Why when I enter the subway, I immediately get in combat mode. What is this thing about respect, when somebody steps on my foot, and doesn’t say excuse me, I’m immediately ready to do them harm? 

Along with what is being a man, because I learned how to be a man inside. That a man was tough, didn’t cry, didn’t show emotions. That came outside with me. I’ve been home 27 years. I’m 60 years old. Mind you, this happened when I was 17. And I’m just finding the balance in my life these last three years of my life. And a major, major part of that was All Kings.

Could you talk about your first All Kings experience. What was that like? 

I was totally blown away. I remember first getting there and not knowing what to expect. Off in the distance I could hear this drum beat. So I’m, like, (skeptically) ‘okay.’ They told me to take off my watch, and turn over my cell phone, and leave my bags with them, and I’m, like, (skeptically) ‘okay.’ And then I was led on this journey. I was apprehensive. I didn’t think anything bad was going to happen, but you know I’m in these woods, and I’m supposed to trust these men, and so I really start to question myself – do I really want to do this? 

And then I met the men. And you know for me, being a black man born in the sixties, racial tension has been a part of my whole life. And in this group I’m seeing all these races, and hearing all these accents. And they’re being real, and showing their emotions, and I thought, ‘damn, this is what I’ve been looking for. This is what transformation is all about!’ The men were putting their real feelings on the line, telling their stories. 

And man, you know, it sounds weird but the biggest thing was the hugs. I can tell when people are half-assed or being fake, you know. And I walked through that group, and I felt a real hug from every man. Not one was bullshit or fake. It was real care and real concern, not a black thing or a white thing, just brothers. 

What was the shift you made during your Quest weekend? 

Man, you know, they say that you’re only as sick as your secrets. And for the last three years, I’ve been working on standing up and speaking my truth, what I’m feeling, what I’ve experienced, trying to care less about what other people think. I just want to get that shit off me. 

What I found with All Kings was the next level of transparency with my life, and what I’m going through. I found a willingness to be even more real with myself and more open about it to others. For me to sit in a group of men that first weekend, and get into the rawness of my emotions – emotions that I haven’t even shared with some family members – man, it was everything. 

And to realize I’m not alone. On one of the weekends, I was dealing with the pain of a friend that had been murdered. And it just got to be too much at one point, and I pulled away and broke down, and almost immediately I felt a hand on my shoulder. There next to me, not just comforting me, but crying with me. And again, there was no racial barrier, no age barrier. Just other men, feeling what I’m feeling. 

I want that for our whole society. You know, a lot of men who have were justice-impacted, myself included, were traumatized as kids. If we can experience this, and if we can offer this to others – well, imagine what our society could become if everyone had access to this.

Could you talk about your experience of the brotherhood aspect of All Kings? Why did you choose to stay involved after that first weekend? 

With All Kings, I found a place where I can be of service, but also where I can confidently and freely work on myself. When I show up in one of the weekly circles, or to a Quest, I might help someone else, but I’m also doing my own work. It might be something deep that I didn’t get to on my first weekend. Or I might be working something that has happened since our last meeting. The work doesn’t stop. To have this network is priceless. 

Many men can be resistant to healing, or anything that might make them seem “weak” or “soft.” How do you talk to other men about All Kings? 

Yeah, it’s real. You know, I usually start by talking about how we’ve been programmed as men. How we’re not allowed to cry. How in the street we frame courage as how well you can fight, or how you don’t back down, or how bad you are. And maybe that matters for a time. But to grow I had to let go of it. Now I’ve come to believe that real courage is actually being able to look at myself, and really dealing with what I see, and what I know deep down isn’t good for me. That takes courage – to really look in the mirror and be honest. 

But, you know, a lot of people are afraid to change. There’s a real fear, especially with people who are heavily traumatized. They think, ‘If I start looking at what happened to me as a 5 year old, I might never get to the bottom, and it might blow me away.’ But by not changing, I’m keeping myself in a cage as a human being. I’m like a woman who got hurt in marriage, and decided she would lock her heart away and never love again. At least that’s how I approach it. 

In the end though, all I can do is lead by example. Which is the beauty of All Kings. My first weekend, I watched a leader take that leap, and that gave me the courage to take the leap myself. 

You’ve mentioned a few times the impact of the diversity of the group – in terms of race, class, age, sexual orientation, ability. Could you say more about that. Why did that feel important to your experience? 

Honestly, there was a point a few years ago when I was starting to lose hope in humanity and society. With everything going on, politically and culturally, I was starting to feel like it’s just a black and a white thing, you know. And that’s the way it always will be. 

So then to come to AK and see all these men from different cultures, different nationalities, sexual orientations – that gave me hope. And that was huge. Because a man without hope is dead. He has nothing to move forward towards. But in AK, we really are doing it together. 

There’s even like a challenge to it that’s attractive to me. If I say I’m part of All Kings, I must accept all kings, no matter their shape, color, all of it. That’s what I want for our society as well. And so my plan is to be at every Quest weekend that I can be at, unless there’s a family emergency, so I can hug those new brothers as they come into the community. And introduce to this way of being, and to nature. 

Yeah, say more about that. The nature seems like a big piece for you.  

Man, my relationship to nature has evolved so much over time. When I was younger, I used to be like, ‘hell no, nobody’s going to get me into the woods.’ But I’ve learned to embrace it, and love it. Going out and meeting creation, and meeting the balance of creation, everything in tune with life. When I go out into nature now, I feel like I’m getting my spirit balanced and getting reconnected to the greater whole. All this must exist for me to exist. All Kings represent that for me. The work in nature is spiritual. 

Like you said, the work never stops. What’s your growth edge for 2023?

To allow myself to be educated. And to understand sacrifice more. And I say allow myself to be educated – in order to be leadership, I want to know as much as possible about the processes as I possibly can. Like at this last Quest, I learned so much just watching Aaron and Gethin facilitate. I learned watching the whole Quest evolve, the miracle that happened in the room. 

I’m learning to trust the process. Because I’ve really come to realize that the process doesn’t fail. I always feel worried before each weekend, whether this shit is going to work. And then I watch the jubilation that happens after every Quest. And that’s the process. The process will not fail. You just have to trust it.