Ronald’s Story
What attracted you to All Kings?
I’m named after my father, but I never knew him as a kid. He was in prison my entire life, locked up when my mom was nine months pregnant. Obviously that had a profound impact on my entire life. I never understood it. And how I did come to understand it wasn’t in a sense of love, or being loved by him. It was the opposite.
Ironically my father was accused of rape in the south. He was heading back home, up north, and got locked up in North Carolina, and never came back. I didn’t even know he was in jail until I was 6 or 7 years old, when I learned from a neighbor. I was having a fight with this other young man, and he said, “You’re going to end up just like your father, in prison!” It was like he had pierced my soul. When I asked my mom if it was true, she became angry. At the time I get it, but later I understood that she was still angry at him, because she thought he was guilty.
So yeah, I marinated in that anger during 9 months of pregnancy. My mom was abused by my father while she was pregnant too, so in the womb I marinated in that, and then I came out, and had his name, and layers and layers of guilt and shame.
Eventually I started to meet with my father, to visit him in prison. And he said, “I didn’t do good.” And I began to believe him. But even if he was guilty, I just don’t believe a life sentence was necessary. So I made a vow to get involved in the prison system somehow. I thought it would be through prison ministry, but ended up not pursuing that.
And then two years ago, he passed away. That was devastating. Because he never knew what it was like to be free, the way I did. And I had so much anger about what that system did to my dad – does to so many black men, but also to my dad. He’s one of millions. And that’s when I found All Kings.
What about All Kings resonated with you?
I knew I wanted to try to impact the next generation. To be honest, I don’t feel like my generation did all that much. I feel like we dropped the ball in terms of social justice, after the sixties, until now.
I can leave a legacy and leave an imprint for the younger generation in prison – men and women. I think the next generation isn’t as blinded by the bullshit as my generation was, by the smoke and screens. I can be an elder that I feel like I didn’t get.
There’s also the mixed race nature of the community. There are lots of men of color. But it’s also different from my generation, in that it's not just Black, or Hispanic, but all races, including white men. That sense of the rainbow coalition is very powerful. My spirit spoke to me and said this is where I need to be.
What’s powerful about the “rainbow coalition” aspect for you?
Well, Black and brown men are heavily involved in the group. But the folks who aren’t Black and brown really feel like they are in the fight with us. If things go down, the white men don’t use their white privilege to bypass. They go down with the ship, you know – not just talking the talk but walking the walk with their service. That’s different from a lot of groups I’ve been involved in – in those groups there was more lip service but not actual service. And the white men are taking it back to their white brothers, and letting them know, so they can bring white men in who are willing to do the work, who are willing to trust.
What has All Kings offered your life?
Doing our work in the group has allowed me to touch the shadow places that I think I try to hide, places that no longer serve me. It’s allowed me to bring those places into the light. And doing that heals me, and transforms. And by touching my shadows, I allow other men to touch their shadows. So working on myself allows me to be better in service, in a way.
How has AK impacted how you relate to other men?
The way I interact with men is a lot different. I don’t see them as competition, or as different, or as any better or less. I’ve started to see them as one and the same – I’m a brother, not a brother’s keeper. I’m more compassionate. I’m able to have more meaningful conversations with men I don’t know, to be able to express my feelings in front of other men. It’s still a work in progress, but it’s work I get to do in circles, and on the weekends, and I know I won’t be judged.
How did you relate to men before All Kings?
It was the usual unhealthy masculinity. You know, bravado. Only the strong survive. Vulnerability not seen as a strength but as a weakness. There was a fear of the unknown, and being guarded, almost defensive – like, if another man approached me, “What do you want?” I always had that shield up, that protection. I wouldn’t let myself be seen.
What are your hopes for All Kings going forward?
I hope we can really bridge the gap – so that young men can walk out of prison and walk into our circles. I hope we can ultimately offer services they might need, links to housing, to jobs. For men who are willing to do the work, I hope we can be a bridge that men can walk across to whatever they need. I hope we can build links to churches, and communities, so that everyone knows that All Kings is available. A place where men can come and get support.
What’s something you are working on right now in yourself?
For me, I’m working on bridging the gap between my life and my spirituality, to really take on what it means to be a spiritual warrior. I want to support other men to get in touch with their spirituality, in whatever way feels good for them. I want to be a spiritual elder in the community, and truly embrace that. I am that, but I haven’t fully embraced it in myself yet. I’d like to be comfortable and transparent in that, and not be afraid of being judged – to know where I’m going and what I can offer.
What would you say to a man considering getting involved with AK?
I want to say something profound. (Laughs.) Honestly, what’s there to be afraid of? Do it, if you can. It’s worth it. You’re worth it.