Carlos Vicario (CV): As we close this interview series, I’ll just mention that we’ve talked about some serious issues—difficult, not just for you personally, but for society as a whole to examine and address. I think we could continue on those subjects for a very long time, and perhaps delve into many others. But since our time isn’t indefinite, today I want to offer readers some insight into what I call “everyday Efrén”—who you are, and what you do, that reflects your interests beyond the prison environment we’ve discussed so much.
Efrén Paredes, Jr. (EPJ): (laughs) Well, I don’t suppose my personal interests are that unusual. A little heavier on the academic side, maybe. I watch a lot of television, a lot of news and NPR shows. One of the first things I like to start with for the day is the news, to find out what’s happened around the world overnight. But then, anything that’s got to do with self-improvement or relationships, or is educational: technology, politics, education, self-help, wellness, mental health, spirituality, men’s issues, women’s issues, parenting, relationships, business, investments, budgeting, leadership, success and inspirational stories, empowerment, culture, history….
I’m usually reading and writing throughout the day, while the TV is on, and if I hear something that interests me, then I take a break from what I’m doing, and watch the TV. I really don’t watch movies or many shows for entertainment, and I rarely watch shows that are part of a series, because it’s highly unlikely I’ll watch the entire series.
It’s kind of funny because the only movies I’ve really seen in recent years have been animated movies my youngest daughter likes, so I’ll be able to talk to her about them—it’s one more way for us to connect. It lets her know I’m paying attention to her interests. Before she was born I used to surf right past TV stations that were showing animated movies and never watched them.
I’ve now watched “The Secret Life of Pets,” “Trolls,” “The Book of Life,” “Minions,” and a few others. I have to pay attention, too, because she enjoys quizzing me about them.
CV: She gives you homework?
EPJ: It’s like homework. I have to know the names of the characters, what events happened in the movie, the names of songs they sang—all that stuff. When she was younger and she watched the “Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood” cartoon in the mornings I would watch that with her too. In the evening when I called home she would ask me, “Daddy, did you see Daniel today?” When I told her that I did, she would follow up with, “What did he say?” There was always an educational message in the program, and she wanted to make sure I got it. So after I told her what the message was, she would say, “Yup, that’s it. Good job, Daddy.”
I’ve been watching the Food Network, too. It was added to our list of channels this year when our cable contract was updated. I enjoy seeing the different kinds of meals people can create. I really like seeing when they make cakes and pastries. So I guess you could call that watching for entertainment.
CV: I’m caught by the mention of shows on women’s issues. What interests you there, particularly?
EPJ: I think they provide an important perspective about issues that often aren’t discussed on regular news shows. I’m around men all day long, and unless I’m speaking to my wife, family, or friends on the phone or during visits, I don’t hear the perspectives of women. That’s been an important part of my journey personally—learning about issues that affect my daughter and her future—and I choose to be intentional about continuing to learn.
I also enjoy shows like “Hoda and Jenna” and “The View.” They offer a variety of helpful information, and I appreciate the way they share inspiring and heartwarming stories about people’s real-life experiences and people who have made significant accomplishments or overcome challenges in their life.
Some of the ones I remember best include communities pulling together to help victims of natural disasters; there was a story about a person developing coping strategies to deal with anxiety; another person created an app to help homeless shelters and soup kitchens partner with restaurants to feed poor people…. These are all wonderful things that make us look beyond ourselves and think about how we can help people.
CV: That’s something you find satisfaction in, isn’t it? Just every-day helping people.
EPJ: It’s one of the things that adds meaning to anybody’s life. You can be free, or you can be in prison, but you can still help people. Sometimes it’s very basic: people frequently ask me to help them with things like writing a letter to a friend or family member, advice about how to write a grievance, how to interpret a legal statute, etc. Other times, we’ve had more serious conversations about mental health issues, forgiveness, growing and moving on.
CV: Some of the things we’ve talked about previously.
EPJ: That we’ve talked about previously, that we could talk about again and again, especially the need to let go of anger and bitterness—not to be trapped by the wrongs that someone else may have done us. That’s of real importance to me, and sharing it is of real importance. We have to allow ourselves a chance to heal from our negative experiences if we wish to resume a happy life again. And we have to do that by forgiving, and in reaching out to others, even if they are the very people who have done us wrong.
I don’t subscribe to the belief that it takes extraordinary people to change the world. I believe people become extraordinary through helping change the world. There’s power in positively doing something to help someone else.
CV: That’s something you’ve tried to communicate to your family, as well. Not just to live it personally.
EPJ: You know, my daughter always surprises me with things she says. For instance, she may tell me that people need to show each other empathy if she sees them arguing. I never heard the word “empathy” until several years after I was in prison, and here she is a little kid talking about empathy.
During our most recent visit I asked her if people have been talking about the Coronavirus at school since it’s been a major world issue and she remarked, “Some kids are making fun of it.” When I asked her what she thought about that, she said, “I told one kid he shouldn’t play like that because people are dying and it’s serious.”
She has this very strong sense of social responsibility.
CV: We’re going to come back to this special and bright little girl, and your family, later. What are some of the other activities in your day?
EPJ: I go to the law library every evening to do legal research and during afternoons I do some kind of physical activity like calisthenics, lift weights, walk, or jog for about 40 minutes each day. Sometimes I do a combination of these things. I make it a point to do something for my physical health, though.
Otherwise, I have phone calls to make, books to read, articles and essays to write, email to answer….
When I was younger I played basketball in the gym almost daily. I’ll turn 47 next month though and it’s a lot more work running the court with 20-year-olds less than half my age these days. I don’t have that kind of speed or energy anymore, so I stick to working out and exercising more on my own now and staying fit that way. It also helps me avoid injuries. I recognize my limitations. (laughs)
Sometimes I like to do a little cooking. We’re limited to using microwaves when preparing food in the housing unit, but occasionally I prepare meals with other prisoners. We’ll all contribute to make it more cost effective, and I’ll cook it. But I try not to do that often, because the items available are full of sodium or cholesterol. There’s very little healthy food sold in the commissary.
I enjoyed cooking more when I worked as a baker and vegan cook in the prison’s Food Service Department a couple years ago. I got a chance to learn how to actually cook using stoves, different kinds of ovens, a steamer, food processor, and use all kinds of different ingredients. It was pretty fun and the first time in my adult life I did any of those things.
CV: You mention the law library. What sort of law library is available to you in prison?
EPJ: It’s electronic, something that’s been added in recent years. Fortunately, incarcerated people can now access thousands of law journals, so I can spend hours each week locating them on my own.
However, if I want to research psychology, cultural, or social justice issues in academic journals, I have to ask one of my college or professor friends to access them from a university academic journal library and mail me a printed version. I read A LOT of non-fiction and peer-reviewed academic journals.
I couldn’t have received the resources I have without the endless help from family, friends, wonderful people in academia and other institutions—sometimes even from the people whose books or articles I’ve quoted in these interviews. People send me books, they look up items for me constantly. I have an amazing network of family, friends and supporters.
CV: And one of these is your daughter.
EPJ: My daughter—all my daughters—my wife, my parents…. I owe so much to each one of these people. It’s my youngest who challenges me, and makes me try to be the best model and father I can be to her, but my wife also had two daughters previous to our relationship. They’re adults now, and technically, my stepdaughters, but I don’t think of them that way. They are all our daughters: we love them equally and we’re very proud of them.
You know, when news of Kobe Bryant’s death broke recently—Kobe and his daughter Gianna—it was heartbreaking. Kobe is one of my all-time favorite basketball players, and like me, he had daughters, but no son. I found myself thinking how his surviving daughters will grow up without the love, guidance, and care of their father. I can’t imagine that. I think his legacy as a father is more meaningful than five NBA championships—his love for his family, for working with kids and helping the community—These were the things he did that mattered.
CV: Being there for his daughters, being a loving father to them.
EPJ: That matters so much. My parents divorced when I was 7 years old and my biological father was absent from my life for 27 years. He briefly reappeared and vanished again and we no longer have contact. So, I know what it means for a child not to have their father in their life and the deep sense of emptiness and rejection they feel. It can permanently scar them emotionally and mentally.
I was fortunate to have a stepfather who became a loving, responsible father to me in my biological father’s absence. But I never want my daughter to repeat the experience I had with my biological father—to feel that I’m not part of her life.
CV: What does your incarceration mean to her?
EPJ: She asks me all the time when I’m going to come home. She asks even more as she’s gotten older. During visits she’ll hold my hand at the end of visits and tell me, “Daddy, I wish you could come home with us,” as we are saying our goodbyes. It breaks my heart when she does that, because I know she is having a difficult time processing why I can’t go home with her and she’s missing me.
She’s too young to understand the court system. All she knows is her father can’t go home with her right now. This past year when she was telling my wife and me her Christmas wish list she added, “But the best gift I want more than anything is for Daddy to come home.”
CV: That must have been a difficult moment for you.
EPJ: Yes, that hurt. I have to thank my incredible wife that I’m able to be as involved in my child’s life as I have been. She even has me participating in parent-teacher conferences, which is something I didn’t think would ever be possible.
The day before our daughter’s very first conference, she asked me, “Can you call me tomorrow at 5 pm?” Which was earlier than I usually call her, so I asked her why she wanted me to call earlier.
She responded, “Tomorrow’s [our daughter’s] parent-teacher conference and I want you to call in and be a part of it.”
I was very surprised: I asked her, “What if the teacher doesn’t want me to participate because I’m in prison?” Her response was simple and straightforward: “You’re [her] father, you have every right to participate.”
And it went off well. The teacher was made aware that I would be calling from a correctional facility: and when I called, we exchanged greetings and got right into the conference.
Ever since that first parent-teacher conference I have participated in every conference for my daughter. I haven’t missed a single one. Even if I was working at the time, my supervisors would give me permission to leave to make the phone calls and return to work, if I told them what I was doing.
In all my years of being in prison, up to that point, I had never met or spoken to another incarcerated father who participated in all his child’s parent-teacher conferences, or even one conference. Since then, I’ve shared the experience with other incarcerated fathers as well and some of them now participate in their child’s parent-teacher conferences as well. I always let them know it was my wife’s idea.
I’m so proud of her, taking the initiative to make that possible for me. We’ll have been married seven years this year, and it’s been a wonderful experience. I’m always learning more about life and parenting through her eyes. She models integrity and empathy, and her work to help people in under-served communities is inspiring. I consider her one of my she-roes and role models.
CV: With all that, we come back full circle to some of the things we talked about in our very first interview—what do you want your life to be like on the outside, what do you hope to achieve with freedom, with your family?
EPJ: A fair resentencing, which acknowledges the simple fact that I am not “irreparably corrupt,” or “incapable of change,” should offer me a term-of-year sentence that allows me a meaningful opportunity to be free one day. That would be consistent with the U.S. Supreme Court’s 2012 decision in regard to juveniles who received mandatory life sentences without parole.
As for what I want to do: realistically, the very first thing I need to do is successfully complete all the conditions of parole, whenever that may be granted. I can’t do anything else or be of any help to anyone else if I don’t prioritize protecting my freedom first.
When it comes to what I want personally—my family. My parents are getting older and have their share of health challenges that come with aging. My stepfather is 88 years old now. I consider him my father and call him “Dad.” He has mobility and heart issues, and is also experiencing issues with COPD.
I hope to be able to have the opportunity to help my parents and be there for them one day just as they have been there for me all these years. I hope to also be able to spend time with my maternal grandmother, as well, who has been battling with serious medical issues the past several years. She’s in her early 90s now.
I want to spend time with my wife and our whole family: I want to be there for my daughter’s quinceañera. For those who may not be familiar with the term, it’s a major ritual in Mexican culture for young women that marks their transition into adulthood when they reach the age of fifteen. It’s an elaborately celebrated event and, short of a formal wedding, it’s the most cherished moment in any girl’s life who is of Mexican descent.
Our daughter saw both her older sisters have beautiful quinceañeras and knows what they’re like. She’s definitely not passing on the opportunity to have one of her own.
I have missed out on a lot in her life, and I don’t want to ever do anything that could lead to becoming absent in her life in the future. It will always be in the forefront of my mind. I have soccer games to attend, Daddy-daughter dances to take her to, birthday parties to help plan, Girl Scouts events to support, and the list goes on. She will be depending on me, and I have to do my best to not let her down.
Last year when I jokingly told her that I was too cool to do something we were talking about she told me, “You are not cool. Only little kids and teenagers can be cool. Just be my father.”
That’s a huge responsibility for the rest of my life.
CV: I know, too, that we’ve talked about what it would mean, just to have the privilege of taking on the tasks of normal daily living.
EPJ: I want to do real-life things: maintain our home, shop for groceries, keep our lawn mowed, wash laundry…. You don’t think that sounds glamorous, but those things represent responsibility and individual freedom—being able to take care of yourself, your family, and your home. I want to drive a car: my daughter keeps reminding me that I can’t drive a car when I come home until I have a license, and that I will have to take driver’s lessons before I can drive. (laughs) She’s got pretty firm ideas of how things have to be done.
CV: So, you’ve never had a driver’s license?
EPJ: No. You can’t have a driver’s license at 15, which is the age I was arrested. Whenever I am able to drive a car one day it will be the first time in my adult life to do so.
CV: A lot of new experiences ahead.
EPJ: I’m not afraid of that. I have an incredible support network, in my family and all over this country, that isn’t farther away than a phone call, email, or video chat. I’m not afraid of asking questions, of doing research, of finding help when I need help. I’ve had 31 years to learn and practice patience. The key is not trying to rush anything and taking things one step at a time.
I know that from the most personal standpoint, my job of healing from and processing this experience won’t be done when I’m free. I’ve been seeing a therapist for the past ten years, and I plan to continue that when I go home. There are so many benefits to working with someone professional in this regard.
CV: You understand how society views former prisoners: that there is often a stigma that follows them. How will you respond to that when you meet it personally?
EPJ: I’m not going to let prison define me. There are 70 million people with a criminal history of some kind in the nation. That’s almost one in every four people. Many of them return to their communities to become productive citizens upon release.
The average person doesn’t know that 95% of all incarcerated people are released back to society one day. Contrary to what people think almost every incarcerated person gets a second chance. America is the land of second chances.
As I said, I’ve had 31 years to learn and practice patience, to practice my interpersonal skills, and reasoning and critical thinking. Difficult encounters outside prison are not too different from difficult encounters inside prison: no person or experience can force me to respond negatively in this world unless I allow them to.
There are people who have chosen to allow the prison experience to make them worse as human beings: I have chosen to be better, and to encourage others to be better.
CV: You’ve mentioned wanting to work with at-risk youth.
EPJ: Particularly with at-risk youth. The experience I have endured the past 31 years isn’t one I want any other kid to experience; and if I can prevent it, I will. I’d like to continue to be involved with prisoners, as well, to offer programming and speak at prisoner events. I know how much it means to incarcerated people when someone leaves prison and doesn’t forget them. Volunteers in prisons give back to the community and make it safer: they inspire prisoners by sharing their stories. I want to be one of those volunteers showing that it’s possible to live a productive life; and inspiring other prisoners to change their own lives and break the cycle of re-offending.
CV: What place would you like to see most—when you get that driver’s license?
EPJ: Honestly, I just want to be with my family, doing things with them. I don’t have any vacation destinations in mind. I can’t wait to sit on the front porch of my home or on a lawn chair in the back yard and listen to the birds chirping, or cars driving by, and not have to hear the cacophonous noises and voices reverberating inside a prison I have heard for decades. There have been many days in prison I felt like I was standing inside a hollow bowl with people incessantly beating the outside with a large metal spoon.
Every juvenile lifer who has been released, who I have had contact with, tells me about how grateful they are just to be able to go to a grocery store, drive a car, or walk down the street. Every experience they have is meaningful—and they aren’t just working on daily living. I have formerly incarcerated friends who are feeding homeless people, helping at-risk youth, attending college, doing public speaking about prison reform and mass incarceration, etc. They are also busy working jobs and being assets to their communities.
I’ll be living with my wife and daughter, and I’ll explore my employment options and may even work more than one job. I love to work and I’ve had jobs since I was 13 years old. Even when I was too young to work for a business, I would shovel snow, mow lawns, and rake leaves for money. I even worked in the fields picking blueberries and strawberries to earn extra money to buy my very first pair of Nikes.
What’s more, I’ve never been unemployed. All my years in prison I’ve maintained steady employment and always received great performance evaluations. I’ve also never been fired from a job. You might think I’d like a vacation, but I don’t have any plans to not work upon my release. If I am able to begin working right away, I want to do it. Particularly, my wife has been shouldering the burden of taking care of the family financially and I want to share that with her as soon as it can happen. I want my daughters to see me working, and give them that example.
CV: Of all the things you’ve accomplished and done in life what do you want to best be remembered for?
EPJ: Being a great father. Becoming a father is one of the greatest honors in life and I don’t want to do anything to diminish it in any way. I want to be a huge part of my daughters’ lives and help them do their best everyday.
I want to be a good parent to all three, who they can respect and look up to. Our two oldest daughters are adults now and making their own life choices. The one I have to dedicate as much time to as possible is our youngest daughter, who is still in elementary school.
I want to help her with homework, help her become a great athlete, and follow her dreams. I want to send her to go to summer camps and make sure she gets to be in productive after-school programs.
Kids have a hard time growing up in the digital age, facing extraordinary anxiety and peer pressure from social media. They need their parents now more than ever and I want to make sure my girls know they can depend on me and come to me for help and advice. I want them to be able to look up to me and trust me as a role model, as someone they can respect, who meets responsibility and makes good decisions.
CV: If you could give readers one piece of advice, as we close this series, what would it be?
EPJ: Only one? (Laughs) Don’t ever stop striving to learn, listen, and evolve. You can’t help make the world a better place if you don’t keep working to make yourself a better, more informed, more compassionate person. We all have the power to grow. And we all have the power to make better choices and change.
CV: Thank you again, and thank you to all our readers.
Efren in His Own Words 