The People Behind the Work

 Somewhere between prison visits, long drives across California, workshop preparations, shared lunches, and everyday conversations, the Partnership for Re-Entry Program (PREP) office quietly became my second home.

When I first arrived in California, everything felt unfamiliar. New people. New places. New routines. I came into PREP nervous, unsure of myself, and uncertain about what these six weeks would truly hold. But from the very first day, I was welcomed with warmth that never once felt forced.

What struck me most about the people at PREP was not only their commitment to the work but the lives behind that commitment. Many of the people in the office have been directly impacted by incarceration and systemic harm themselves. Some have experienced prison firsthand. Others have carried the weight of losing loved ones, rebuilding their lives, or navigating systems designed to break people down instead of helping them heal.

And yet, despite all of that, they chose to dedicate their freedom to helping others.

There is something incredibly powerful about witnessing people transform pain into purpose.

The office itself was never just an office. It became a place of constant movement and life. Someone was always laughing, telling stories, checking in on someone else, preparing for a workshop, sharing food, or offering encouragement. Even on difficult days, there was a sense that nobody had to carry things alone.

I think before this experience, I imagined restorative justice mostly as a theory or programming. But PREP showed me that restorative justice is also relational. It is built through consistency, trust, accountability, humor, patience, and genuine care for one another. It lives in ordinary interactions just as much as in formal workshops.

Over time, I stopped feeling like a visitor there. I started feeling like family.

There is something deeply healing about being welcomed into a space where people see you fully and still make room for you. The people at PREP reminded me that community can exist in places society often overlooks. They reminded me that healing does not always happen in grand, dramatic moments. Sometimes it happens slowly, through everyday acts of accompaniment.

Through them, I saw what it looks like when people refuse to let their past define the limits of who they can become.

I also saw what freedom can look like when it is used intentionally.

Not freedom used only for oneself, but freedom used in the service of others. Freedom used to return to prisons and sit with people society has discarded. Freedom used to help others imagine lives beyond violence, addiction, incarceration, and hopelessness. Freedom used to remind people that they are still human and still worthy of dignity.

That kind of work leaves an imprint on people.

It certainly left one on me.

As I reflect on these past six weeks, I realize PREP gave me more than experience. It gave me a glimpse into the kind of community I hope to build throughout my own life and career, one rooted in compassion, honesty, accountability, and love.

And for that, I will always be grateful.