By Kai Bannon
Today, like most days, starts at midnight. Yes, I realize in fact all days start there but while you’re sleeping or carousing I’m usually three hours into my shift. This is what it takes to be an activist in prison. In one of life’s many bitter ironies, I’m serving life but I have no time. So I claw it from the small hours. By day the cell block is a thundering cacophony of noise but by this time it’s quiet enough to hear the faint tick of my watch. The sound of each passing moment a reminder of the confines I exist within and the relentless drive that pushes me forward.
It’s in these silent, solitary hours my thoughts find the space to breathe. My activism isn’t just a choice; it’s a necessity, a way to keep the flame of hope burning in a place that was designed to extinguishing it. Here, in the dim glow of a single light, I pen letters, draft proposals, and plan initiatives that reach beyond these walls. The irony isn’t lost on me – advocating for freedom while confined, fighting for change in a system that seems unchangeable. But it’s this very paradox that fuels my resolve. How can a system this broken ever be changed? How can a system this broken continue to endure?
My work, often unseen by my fellow incarcerated people, is nonetheless for them. We’re a community bound not just by shared walls but by shared struggles. In advocating for our rights, for our humanity, I’m reminding the world and myself that our sentences do not define us. We are more than the numbers assigned to us, more than the mistakes we’ve made.
As dawn approaches, I haphazardly tuck away my papers, but carefully store my most prized possession, a Frixion erasable pen. The cell block begins to stir, the sounds of life resuming, another day commencing. I brace myself for the cacophony, for the jostling of bodies and clanging of doors. But within me, there’s a quiet resolve, a determination that thrives in the face of adversity.
Yes, today, like most days, started at midnight. But it’s in these early hours, in the stillness, that I find my strength, my purpose. Here, in the heart of darkness, I’m working towards a brighter future, not just for myself, but for all of us who are serving time yet yearning for change. The journey is long, the path often uncertain, but the fight for justice, for dignity, for our very humanity, continues. And so, I write, I plan, I dream – in the quiet of the night, the revolution grows.