This module teaches gratitude as a stabilizing discipline. Participants learn how appreciation can strengthen resilience, preserve humility, and support long-term growth without denying hardship.
In the Straight-A Guide, we urge people to live in gratitude and to appreciate the blessings that come their way. Even in confinement, or in crisis, we still have blessings, and we still have a responsibility to honor them.
A person may define success, set goals, develop the right attitude, aspire to something better, take disciplined action, hold himself accountable, build awareness, live authentically, and earn incremental achievements. If he does not live in gratitude, however, negative emotions such as bitterness, anger, hatred, or apathy can undermine progress. To advance, a person must not dwell only on all that he has lost. If he does, he may fail to see and appreciate all that remains. He may become so consumed by what the system took from him that he loses sight of the people, ideas, opportunities, and disciplines he can still develop in order to keep building.
For that reason, we complete the framework of the Straight-A Guide by putting emphasis on appreciation and living in gratitude. As one example, I am extremely grateful to the many people who taught and inspired me. It is one reason I built a personal ministry of sharing those lessons with others. I am grateful to administrators in the system who allow me to provide these lessons, and I am grateful to every member of the Prison Professors community. Each person is part of the change I want to see, and I believe we are aligned in wanting to open more pathways for people to earn freedom through merit.
In the context of the Straight-A Guide, appreciation is not passive gratitude. It is neither sentimentality nor weakness, and it is not the denial of hardship. Appreciation is the discipline of recognizing blessings, lessons, relationships, opportunities, and growth that emerge despite adversity. A responsibility comes with those blessings. Each one allows a person to remain steady without becoming hard. It allows him to remain grateful without becoming naïve. It allows him to acknowledge pain honestly without allowing pain to define the entire meaning of his life.
That lesson became essential while I was confined, and it has remained essential since my release on August 12, 2013.
A person in prison loses a great deal, including:
liberty,
income,
privacy,
comfort,
reputation,
and time with family, friends, and community.
It would be dishonest to pretend those losses do not hurt. I do not work for the government, and I would never pretend that spending time in prison is good. I would never suggest that a person should feel grateful for confinement, injustice, separation, humiliation, or the suffering that spreads through a family when someone enters the system. In my view, when we measure justice only by the length of time a person spends in prison, rather than by his effort to reconcile and rebuild, prisons often cause more harm than good and contribute to intergenerational cycles of failure.
Still, I had a perspective that allowed me to live in gratitude while I served 26 years with federal register number 16377-004. I appreciated the blessings God gave me, and I still feel grateful that I have the opportunity to work toward changing the system.
Gratitude does not mean I have power or influence over the system. I do not. But I am grateful to have resources and time that I can use to build pathways that may persuade others that improvements are possible. Those efforts did not begin once I got out. They had roots long before. If I reflect, I can trace that chronology:
While in solitary confinement, reading the Bible opened my eyes and changed the way I think.
I came to accept that I have a duty to develop skills that lead to a full life and to work toward improving outcomes for society.
By reading about Frederick Douglass, Socrates, and Gandhi, I developed a methodical, intentional plan that allowed me to work toward being the change I wanted to see.
By earning academic credentials, publishers opened opportunities to work with university professors who authored books.
By writing books, I could contribute to society and begin spreading ideas that would influence changes such as incentives in the First Step Act.
By building credibility, I could develop relationships with federal judges, U.S. Attorneys, and leaders in the Bureau of Prisons.
With those relationships, I could develop programs that others could use to prepare for success upon release.
By developing businesses and financial independence, I could create resources to memorialize how many people are working to prepare for success.
With the data I collected, I could build arguments showing that we could lessen intergenerational cycles of failure and poverty by incentivizing the pursuit of excellence.
By building transparency, I could persuade high-net-worth individuals and corporations to join me in supporting the mission, so we could deliver all lessons free of charge and keep the cycle going.
I have always found reasons to live in gratitude, even though I had to spend my 20s, 30s, and 40s in prison. A person can acknowledge losses honestly while still recognizing what remains, what can still be built, who has helped him, what lessons he has learned, and what opportunities emerged because he chose to prepare rather than surrender. More opportunities open when we live in gratitude than when we live in bitterness. I once heard an analogy that when we hold onto anger, hatred, or other negative emotions, it is like holding glass chips and squeezing our hands into fists. Those emotions only wound our own progress.
Bitterness narrows a person's vision. It trains him to interpret every experience through deprivation. It makes him see only what was taken, only who failed him, and only how unfair the circumstances feel. Appreciation widens vision. It helps a person see that even in a hard season, some forms of value remain available. He may still have the ability to think, to read, to write, to reflect, to develop discipline, to strengthen relationships, to build a record, to prepare for release, and to influence the way others see his effort.
When we live in gratitude, appreciating our many blessings, we become more capable of recognizing that we still have the capacity to live with meaning, relevance, and dignity.
Prison culture makes it easy to focus only on what is being lost. The system may constantly tell a person what he cannot do, what he no longer has, and what others think of him. Such an environment can make present circumstances feel permanent and unfair. When those thoughts become the only lens through which a person sees life, bitterness begins to grow. Once bitterness grows, it affects everything.
It weakens judgment.
It weakens discipline.
It weakens relationships.
It weakens self-advocacy.
It weakens preparation.
It lessens ambition.
It weakens the ability to recognize opportunity.
A bitter person may still talk about goals, but bitterness drains energy from the effort required to pursue them. He may still speak about plans, but bitterness makes it harder to execute those plans consistently. He may still say he wants a better life, but bitterness often leads him to interpret every setback as proof that effort is pointless.
Appreciation helps resist that decline.
It reminds a person that even in confinement, he can still build or develop assets. He may not have freedom of movement, but he may still have freedom of thought. He may not control the institution, but he can still control how he uses his time. He may not erase the conviction, but he can still build a record that shows growth, effort, and preparation.
That shift in thinking leads to better strategies, and better strategies build confidence. With a plan, a person begins to focus on what he controls and has reason to keep building.
A person who learns to appreciate what remains becomes more capable of using what remains. He begins to think less like a victim of circumstances and more like the CEO of his life. He asks:
What is still available to me?
What can I build with the tools I have?
Who can I learn from?
How can I turn this difficult season into a period of preparation rather than waste?
Those questions strengthen a person.
During my sentence, many blessings entered my life through channels I never would have expected before prison.
Books became blessings.
Mentors became blessings.
Discipline became a blessing.
Even adversity, though painful, forced me to develop strengths I might never have developed otherwise.
When I was in solitary confinement, books introduced me to leaders, thinkers, and builders who helped shape the way I understood success, responsibility, and self-development. Those books helped me define success, set goals, develop the right attitude, aspire to something more, take action, hold myself accountable, and strengthen awareness. In that way, appreciation was not separate from the earlier principles. It helped me recognize the sources that nourished them. I cannot take credit for developing the Straight-A Guide. I learned lessons from leaders and then modified those lessons to fit the predicament of imprisonment. I learned to appreciate the ideas that changed the way I think.
I also learned to appreciate the discipline adversity forced me to build. I hated being in prison and would never romanticize the sentence. Yet the necessity of adjusting to hardship forced me to become more reflective, more strategic, more disciplined, and more intentional. I learned to think in longer time horizons. I learned to create order where little external order supported the future I wanted. I learned to use reading, writing, exercise, and introspection as tools for shaping identity rather than merely passing time. I am grateful for the lessons I learned, as they contributed to opportunities that later led to financial independence once I got out.
I am grateful that I get to do what I want with my time and resources, irrespective of whether anyone ever pays a penny.
The Bible shaped my understanding of appreciation in powerful ways.
The Prodigal Son taught me humility, return, and grace. A person can squander opportunity, reduce himself through poor decisions, and still begin the difficult process of returning to a better path. That story helped me understand that failure does not end the possibility of redemption. Grace may still enter a life, even after a person has made destructive choices.
The Parable of the Talents taught me to appreciate what had been entrusted to me. Gifts, opportunities, abilities, time, and insight create responsibility. A person should not focus only on what he has lost. He should also ask what remains, what can still be developed, and how he should use those resources wisely. That lesson aligned closely with the Straight-A Guide. The framework teaches people to become deliberate stewards of the life still available to them.
Joseph taught me something similar through a different path. He experienced betrayal, false accusation, separation, and imprisonment. Yet he continued serving faithfully. He did not control the injustices that entered his life, but he controlled how he responded to them. His life helped me understand that appreciation can exist even in painful conditions because appreciation does not require denial of suffering. It requires recognition that meaning, growth, and even service can emerge in the middle of suffering.
Those stories strengthened my ability to appreciate what was still available to me: lessons, faith, growth, people, and opportunities to serve.
A person who trains himself to live in gratitude becomes easier to trust. That is true in prison and outside prison.
When a person is always resentful, always focused on grievance, and always speaking as if the world owes him something, other people often become cautious around him. They may feel that nothing they offer will ever be enough. But when a person learns to appreciate those who help him, support him, guide him, or invest in him, he becomes more relationally credible.
In the Straight-A Guide, the principle of appreciation shaped my journey.
I became deeply appreciative of the mentors who guided me, the people who wrote to me, the educators who opened doors, the supporters who advocated for me, and the relationships that gave me strength. I did not build my journey alone. No one does. Each day, I feel a sense of responsibility to prove worthy of the many people who believed in me.
That truth deserves emphasis because progress rarely happens in isolation. A person may do the work himself, but others often help him understand the work, refine the work, encourage the work, or create opportunities because of the work. Appreciation helps a person recognize that support honestly rather than acting as if he created everything without assistance.
That recognition strengthens humility. It also strengthens the support coalition.
People respond well when they feel seen, valued, and respected. When they know that a person recognizes the investment they have made, they often become more willing to continue helping. Appreciation therefore strengthens both character and relationships.
The more I learned to appreciate what I had received, the more strongly I felt an obligation to use my life in service of others. That connection can show up in many ways:
A person who appreciates books should use what he learns.
A person who appreciates mentors should honor them through disciplined conduct.
A person who appreciates support should become more worthy of support.
A person who appreciates opportunities should use them to create something useful for others.
That is part of what appreciation came to mean for me.
It was not only a feeling. It was a response. The more I appreciated what others had given me, the more determined I became to use my life in ways that might help others prepare for success as well. That conviction shaped the work I do today through Prison Professors, which serves as a personal ministry. I wanted to build resources, lessons, and systems that would help others avoid wasting time in confinement. I wanted people to understand the lessons leaders taught me. Even in difficult circumstances, a person could plan, build a record, strengthen values, and influence how stakeholders view effort.
Appreciation pointed me toward service because it made me recognize that my progress had never been mine alone. Others invested in me. Others taught me. Others believed in the possibility that I could emerge from prison with a mission. The proper response is not self-congratulation, or making myself the hero. The proper response is to build something that others may find useful in their own development. No one works harder than the individual who wants to prepare for success. For that reason, we encourage all members of our community to develop a profile to show how they are preparing:
A biography can reflect gratitude for the lessons a person has learned and the people who helped him. It can show that he understands he did not reach his current level of growth by himself.
A journal can show daily recognition of progress, support, opportunities, and insights. It can reveal whether a person is moving through the day with resentment or with disciplined perspective.
A book report can show appreciation for authors and ideas that sharpened judgment. It can demonstrate that the person does not read merely to complete an assignment, but to learn from minds that expand his own.
A release plan can reflect gratitude for what has already been built and clarity about how the person intends to honor those opportunities moving forward. Gratitude strengthens responsibility. If a person recognizes the value of the opportunities ahead, he becomes more careful about preparing for them.
A broader profile can show that the person is not only tracking achievements, but also recognizing the lessons, relationships, and disciplines that made those achievements possible. He is showing that he has developed a personal plan, a system that will help him overcome the complexities and collateral consequences of a criminal charge. He can build a record to advance arguments that he is committed to living as a law-abiding, contributing citizen. Such a record may lead to income opportunities, and to more values-based decisions in the future.
This is one of the reasons profile-building can become so powerful. It allows a person to document not only what he has done, but also how he understands what others have contributed to his growth. That kind of writing communicates maturity. It shows that success has not made him arrogant. It has made him more aware.
Prison can dehumanize because the rules and policies often place the importance of the institution above the importance of the individual. This is un-American. It can reduce life to counts, movement, routine, fatigue, fear, noise, and institutional control. In that environment, appreciation becomes one of the disciplines that helps a person remain human.
He learns to appreciate:
a letter,
a book,
a lesson,
a conversation,
a mentor,
a moment of clarity,
a routine that strengthens him,
or a relationship that gives him hope.
Those things may appear small to someone living outside. Inside, they can become anchors.
A person who appreciates those anchors is better positioned to maintain perspective. He is less likely to become emotionally flattened by monotony or consumed by grievance. He is more capable of seeing that life still contains meaning, even in a place designed around confinement.
That insight helps protect identity.
If a person does not live in gratitude, he may begin to see himself only through deprivation. If he strengthens appreciation, he becomes more capable of seeing himself as a human being, a builder who is working to live as the CEO of his life and solve problems that no one else can solve.
Questions for reflection:
What do I still have that I should appreciate?
Who has helped me that I should acknowledge more openly?
What lesson or opportunity has emerged from hardship?
How can my writing show gratitude without becoming sentimental or performative?
How can appreciation strengthen my relationships and my future?
In what ways has bitterness narrowed my perspective?
How can I recognize support, guidance, or opportunity more honestly in my profile and in daily life?
These questions help a person build a stronger way of carrying adversity.
Appreciation is the discipline of recognizing value in the midst of struggle. It helps a person remain human, humble, steady, and grateful without denying pain or difficulty. It strengthens the entire framework because it reminds a person that progress is not only something to measure. It is also something to honor.
A person who lives with appreciation becomes less likely to waste the lessons that adversity forced him to learn. He becomes more likely to preserve relationships, deepen humility, strengthen discipline, and use his growth in service of something larger than himself. It protects him from arrogance after achievement, from resentment during hardship, and from forgetfulness about the people and ideas that helped him continue building.
A person who learns to live with appreciation does not erase the past. He does something more useful. He learns how to carry the past in a way that strengthens the future.
