A CONVERSATION IN THE DAYROOM

I sit here after the state-sanctioned murder of Carlos Granados in major internal conflict: "emotion vs. conviction". I feel like a failure. Allow me to explain.

5 1/2 years ago I was being caged in B-pod, 1 row, 44 cage which was situated right in front of D-section dayroom (one thing I have always hated because everyone has a clear view into your cage and to have privacy you have to keep a curtain up all day). On this particular day I had been talking to my then-neighbor Kevin Varga and we'd been clowning around. He likes to crack jokes all day. Carlos Granados was in the dayroom for his recreation time. He called me and passed me something that had been sent to me by someone on another section. From there we began to converse. I didn't know Carlos well at all. I had only seen him a few times and we always greeted each other and would pass things for each other whenever I was in the dayroom in his section or he was in the dayroom of my section. Aside from that we didn't really know each other. On this day he begins a conversation with me (which to this day I don't remember how we got on it other than the fact that he simply began to talk to me about an ex-girlfriend of his). Romantic relationships one had out in the free world and how they fell apart after being incarcerated and ending up on death row is a common experience for the majority here that most prisoners share in conversation about (kind of like a guys-night-out ritual, but in conversation). I could understand as he related his experience to me with this particular ex-girlfriend. What I was not expecting was heinous crime. I never like to ask anyone about their case because to be honest, I really don't like to know. And it's not my place to judge. Only they know if they're innocent, and only they know why they really did what they did if they are guilty and admit it. Either way, it's not for me to judge so I don't get into it all that. I simply like to get into the person because even the worst person, or rather the person who commits the most heinous crime also has the greatest of humanity in him as well. And that is what I look for: the human being, not a crime and a murder number.

Long story short: Carlos got into how he was good for his girlfriend, treated her right and with respect, didn't cheat, came home every night, paid the bills etc. He told me his girlfriend liked playing mind games with him to make him jealous. His then-girlfriend had a 3-year old son from a previous relationship (for those of you reading this, you'll understand shortly why I am getting into these details about what he told me).

Carlos told me that one night he got fed up with his girlfriend's mind games. He had just been informed by her that she was pregnant with their child. Being fed up with what he claims was her mind games one night, trying to make him jealous, he claims he got so angry that he went up to the kitchen, grabbed a knife, grabbed her little 3 year old son and told her he's going to hurt her like she hurt him: Carlos stabbed the little child in his heart and killed him. Then went after his girlfriend and stabbed her. She lived but miscarried their child. (This is what Carlos told me that day 5 1/2 years ago.)

For all my understanding on how most people can get up in some crazy things and why, when he told me what he told me all I could feel was pain for the child, his mother and the miscarried child cause by him stabbing his pregnant girlfriend. And I felt anger and hate. Yeah, I said HATE! At that moment I felt hate for him. I'm glad we were not allowed in the dayroom together, because on that day we would have been fighting for the way I felt. Not saying it's right, just saying what I know is the truth for how I felt at that moment. I got so angry that I told him "man fuck you, you're sick! Don't say another word to me. If I were in the dayroom with you I'd fuck your world up". I left my cage door, put my curtain up and went to the back of my cage. I was hurting, was angry. I cried a lot that day because of that.

I couldn't stop thinking about what had to be going through that child's mind when that happened to him. I couldn't stop thinking about the pain that befell his mother having to witness that. I couldn't stop thinking of what ran through her mind as he stabbed her too and caused her to loose the child in her womb as well even though she lived and survived to testify against him. I kept going back to the little child. It was like someone had transported me back in time, to that day. I could see this child, feel this child. That pain was mine (always will be). I hated Carlos for putting this heinous visual of torture in my mind. I didn't even want to think about it, but couldn't get it out of my head. I kept feeling the little boys fear, the pain. I hated Carlos for giving me that pain. Perhaps it was his way of ridding himself, if just a little bit of the burden of guilt on his soul for the pain he caused. Perhaps he was looking for some understanding. Today I can say that back then, I wish I could have helped. But emotionally I guess I was just not strong not mature enough. Even today I discovered that I was still not emotionally mature and strong enough. Here's why I say that, and there's my inner-conflict of emotion battling conviction.

For the past week leading up to Carlos' murder date I had been having mixed feelings. On one hand I had all intentions to protest his murder and had been preparing myself all week for it. But on the other hand I kept thinking about what he had shared with me on that day 5 1/2 years ago. I never spoke to Carlos again after that day. I saw him several times after that day, but never acknowledged him (never even gave him so much of a look).

Anger! I kept feeling the anger. Although logically I can say to myself that (even momentarily) he had to have been in a deep state of psychosis or something to do something so heinous, emotionally I could not process that in a manner to find compassion for Carlos. So I tried to simply ignore my emotions and stick my conviction of the fact that everyone has the right to live and nobody has the right to play God and take it. But as my beloved soulfriend Maayke once told me: "Emotions are not always rational." So true.

The day of Carlos’ murder I still prepared myself. I fell asleep waiting to go to the shower. I was awakened for my shower, got up and went. I was still fighting with myself. Couldn't shake the anger. Couldn't shake the images of what Carlos told me about what he'd done. Couldn't find compassion. Close to the end of my shower I decided not to protest. It just wasn't there for me. I can't force what I didn't feel. I felt bad about that as well, but emotionally I was still angry. I walked back to my cage.

The rest of the day and night I was a restless one of self-chastisement. They say inaction is acceptance of your oppression. They say inaction is participation in your own oppression. Those were the words that stayed with me all night, all day yesterday, and continue to haunt me this very moment. I feel like I failed because I didn't protest his murder. It's not that I wished him dead. No, I did not. But I was angry and couldn't find compassion to protest his murder when the fact of that matter is that I had no right to judge him.

I've heard people say that you are either for the death penalty or against it. I have always agreed. However, coming to see that the emotional aspect of dealing with this is not always so black and white; there are grey areas that most certainly get in the way of even those who oppose the death penalty.

This morning (01-11-07) I went to recreation on my section. Comrade Rob Will and Randolph Greer are neighbors and their cages are situated right in the front of the dayroom. I told them of my inner-conflict. Rob suggested I'd write about it. I had already intended to do so. We discussed it but only briefly because I kept having to pass things for people and the time got away from us. But basically both of their conclusions were the same: it's a struggle some times, but either we are against the death penalty, or we're not. There is no in between. For me that is not a debate. I oppose the death penalty period. However, though I did not wish death on Carlos, I fell short (in my mind) because I felt I should have protested his murder and I did not because I let emotion get in the way of conviction. That's an experience I'll never forget. It's an experience that also let me know that I'd never let myself fall short again because I'd rather live with the emotional anger than to live with a guilty conscience at transgressing against my own conviction and against the struggle.

I'm afraid to even admit what I am admitting here. But it's the truth. And I wanted to share it because this too I believe is part of the struggle against the death penalty, part of the human drama, part of falling weak to get up stronger, part of suffering expanding your heart for more wisdom, love and compassion. Despite my anger, I hurt for Carlos having to be executed (they didn't have the right to take his life). And I hurt for his family who are now victims of the death penalty. Sad part about this situation aside from him and his family becoming victims of the state, is the fact that it took this for me to find my compassion for Carlos.

In closing I also want to say that I share this not just to show my flaws as a human being, but also because I'd like to know who else out there sometimes struggles with this very conflict I had regarding Carlos? I don't ask to judge. I simply ask because I now understand that this struggle is not always black and white, and I think that when we talk about these things they stop having power over us. It allows us to realize that we're not alone in this experience called Life and being a human being. May we extend ourselves beyond the failures of man, recognize our own- and live with an eye to make a difference where our hearts may lead us.

On the rise!

Gabriel Gonzalez

D.R.I.V.E.

DEATH Row INNER-COMMUNALIST VANGUARD ENGAGEMENT