We are living in a time where violence is a spreading shadow destroying families and stealing our future. We see it every day on the news and on social media: senseless, selfish acts born out of anger and despair. In fits of rage, I used to smash my pictures on the wall out of frustration and kick dents in my car door; I used to punch holes in the wall; I used to ruin my clothes and my shoes or break a necklace that I would have to fix or buy later. One time I even smashed the face on my watch. This matters to society, because violence is not just a criminal problem, it’s a human heart and mind problem. We lose our sense of value for one another. We lose the foundation of a safe community by this violence. My story is a reminder that no one can be unreached. The cycle of violence can only be broken by a radical shift in how we think and how we love one another.
For starting off, my name is Mr. Randy D. Jackson. For the last 28 years, I have been serving a life sentence within the Mississippi Department of Corrections. My case includes an unfair jury trial after pleading guilty to the offense of manslaughter, which was rejected by the judge. My journey to this prison is paved with the choices of a young man. A teenager who dropped out of high school, ran the streets, sold drugs, had sex with many women, and looked for power in the barrel of a gun and making fast money. I let alcohol, drugs, and pursuit of the wrong things lead me to a path of heartaches and pain. But today, I am a changed man. I have accepted full responsibility for my past mistakes. And through the long process of rehabilitation, I have discovered a truth that the world outside desperately needs to hear. To be honest, prison saved my life so that I could help save somebody else.
You might ask why a man sitting in prison is the right person to speak on peace after living a life full of violence? The reason why I am the best person for this is because I have seen both sides of the blade of a knife, whether it was dull or whether it was sharp. I know the hustle game. I know the false pride of the streets. I have felt the weight of taking a life, and the crushing reality of losing my freedom by taking someone’s life. Throughout these 28 years, I have had nothing but time to reflect on the wrongness I have done, educate myself, and do lots of prayer. I am not speaking from a textbook. I am speaking from the scars on my soul that came from when I lost my dad, my grandmom, my mother, and my nephew, and more recently, my uncle Charlie. Their life and memories will always have a place in my memories because I was not there when they died. When I think about them, I get emotional feelings that cause me to shed tears. I also get a crushing sensation inside my chest and my throat. But I know I can’t bring them back alive. I am forever changed by their deaths. It carries a lingering feeling of grief and numbness inside of me. My perspective is unique because it was forged in the fire of regret and refined by the grace of God.
While sitting in Unit 32 in a Parchman prison cell during 1999 to 2001, I always heard inmates banging on the cell bar, trying to break free like wild animals with nowhere to go. Every day I had to smell the foul odor of shit and urine and smoke filling the air from the burned-out mattress and the old clothes that had been set on fire by enraged images. The outside air smelled like the waste lagoon. The food tasted sour, spoiled, cold, uncooked. I had to keep a lot of canteen. But the rats would eat small holes in my canteen if I left it on the floor or under my bed, so I would have to keep it tied up on the vent, in the air, on the ceiling. The roaches were terrible. Everywhere. Like one million of them. You couldn’t kill them. When you took food out, they came like the US Army in force, ready to attack your food. To keep me sane, I had to read my Bible every day and pray for a peace of mind from this horrible living condition. I used to see the guards beat inmates down like dogs. It shocked me so bad that I would not say anything to them. That’s how I made it out of there alive.
I have learned that the mind is the most powerful tool we possess. Second only to the Holy Spirit. I have realized that we must have love for ourselves before we can truly love anyone else. Without self love, we are walking in the dark, unable to show love, kindness, humility, or forgiveness to others. I have learned that much of the violence in our streets comes from the hidden pains that we hold within. My blind rage was loud outbursts of cursing, verbally assaulting many of my friends around at the time. My words were so nasty that it would hurt them so deeply and force them to leave and stay away because they did not want to deal with my foolishness. A lot of times, it was just senseless, due to me being intoxicated. I have smashed glass bottles on the ground, thrown papers in the air, burned bridges in many of my romantic relationships, pushing my true love away. All of this also ruined my good reputation. We see the anger but we don’t see the fire that burns up our soul.
When we think differently, we act differently. I have learned the power to pause: stop and think; breathe; and pay attention to my thought process before reacting in the heat of passion. My thought process was mental pain that altered my behavior. Sometimes, I would have to stop and take a deep breath, like counting one to ten, just to calm down. Many times, I would take a run just to cool down or smoke a joint just to get a change of mind frame. Frustration, filled with trauma and dark obsessions with evil thoughts, not really caring for the value of human life. See, I struggled from physical abuse while growing up as a child. I got many beatings from my mother and my school teacher, along with me fighting in the streets, getting hit in the head with sticks, chains, iron pipes, and even a gun one time from being robbed; from wrecking vehicles, from driving under the influence of alcohol, leaving the hospital with black eyes, a swollen head, and sometimes stitches. That was how I earned the name “Scarface.” I really needed mental counseling, help, but I didn’t know how to receive it until I shot someone and they died, and I came to prison for life.
My plan for peace and connections to the world is this: I cannnot walk the streets with you, but I can reach out through my words to spark a change in many people. This study guide is designed for individuals or small groups navigating the heavy emotional, financial, and spiritual pressures of today’s world. Use these points, scriptures, trackers, and devotionals to anchor your soul, renew your body, and strengthen your faith.
