$7.50 may not seem like a lot of money, but to me, spending $7.50 on a 12-set of Reeves pencils meant I couldn’t spend it for food from the inmate commissary. I was only 16 years old when I was incarcerated, and by the time I was 17 I had been sentenced to 45 years and shipped to a maximum-security prison in the state of Illinois. I lasted all but two days in general population before I got in trouble, which landed me in segregation for six months. While in segregation, I was transferred to Stateville Correctional Center, considered one of the most dangerous prisons in the state. I endured harsh winter weather, off-putting prison food, trying to stay sane from being cooped up in a concrete box 24/7, and having no funds to purchase necessities.
Luckily, other prisoners looked out for me. One prisoner was an artist who made greeting cards to sell on the gallery in exchange for commissary items. When I looked into his cell he had a table full of hygiene items — it looked like a mini store in there. I asked how he acquired all of it and he replied, “hustling.” He showed me the greeting cards he was working on and said he sold each card for $2. This man had his own little enterprise in segregation, and I told myself I needed to follow in his footsteps to acquire financial freedom.
Living in prison is costly, and making money behind bars is difficult. A person in here can make the most by selling illegal drugs, but it is a dangerous risk that can land you in segregation for six months if caught, plus the possibility of getting a new charge and more prison time. Another way to make money is getting a job: working to maintain the prison, working as a cook in the inmate kitchen, being a galley porter, working at the inmate laundry services, etc. Unfortunately, these jobs only pay about $15-30 a month for 40-plus hours of hard labor. Then there are the “prison professions” you can hustle on your own that include cutting hair, tattooing, lending out food with interest, and my favorite — drawing.
I planned on starting my own greeting card enterprise but lacked the tools and money to purchase them, so I worked with what I had — a pen and a few sheets of paper. I borrowed a coloring book from the same artist, traced a cartoon character on one of the sheets and colored in the dark spots with the pen as best as I could. When I finished, I thought I’d done a good job and was on my way to entrepreneurship. Unfortunately, no one thought my work was worth purchasing. I kept doodling on and off and tried to draw portraits with a pen, but the results were horrific.
Upon coming out of segregation, I was yet again faced with the general population in a maximum-security prison and the task of staying out of trouble. My financial situation was also as bad as ever. I was incarcerated at such a young age that I had no savings, no assets to sell off, and no family to rely on financially besides my mom, who was a single parent on social security still raising my younger brother.
I came across another artist who was selling commissioned portraits. When I asked how much he was selling his portraits for, he responded, “Depends, but anywhere from $100 up.” $100 for a portrait?! I thought. I’m going to make bank! Again, my problems were no materials, no artistic talent, and no financial means to purchase tools. But the universe works in mysterious ways, and right before my unit went to shop at the commissary, my mother sent me some money to purchase necessities.
I bought some much-needed clothes and hygiene items, and had $7.50 left. I was about to buy some Hershey’s chocolate bars, but then noticed that there was a pack of drawing pencils on sale. An important decision had to be made: do I satisfy my chocolate urge and put off the pencils until next time, or do I buy these pencils now and try to start working as an artist? It may seem like an easy choice, but I was 19, impulsive, had poor decision-making skills, and did I already mention I really liked chocolate?
