21 July, 2025

Good Thoughts for Sam

My friend Sam's been gone from ERDCC for a few years. He'd been my neighbor, a friend in Buddhism, and a good, positive person to be around. I appreciated his seemingly endless energy and his willingness to point out when I was being too serious. The day he asked me to be the best man at his wedding surprised and humbled me in equal measure. In return, I got away with calling him Sam; everybody else here he made use his full name, Samuel.

Just weeks before the wedding, Sam was unexpectedly transferred to another facility. We stayed in contact by mail for a few months. Then the Missouri Department of Corrections banned communication between any prisoners who aren't related to one another. The last letter I got from Sam was handwritten on yellow notebook paper. It expressed mixed emotions about the Buddhist community in his new environment. He missed the dedication our group had when he'd still been here. The feeling was mutual.

Sam's a big-time videogame nerd, self-described. Get him talking about memorable titles and you won't be given a chance to change the subject for quite a while. His love for gaming runs deep. It shouldn't have surprised me that he'd find a way to get close to his passion in spite of videogames being banned from Missouri prisons.

Over at Farmington Correctional Center, fifteen minutes from ERDCC, where he ended up, Sam started a television show on one of the prisoner-run closed-circuit channels. The show was all about—you guessed it—videogames. Together with a gamer at FireTV, Farmington's video production studio, Sam created "LFG: Looking for Group," a show for imprisoned gamers to talk shop and watch walkthroughs of the hottest titles. I didn't learn about "LFG" from an exchange with Sam or from seeing the show. I only know about it because of Sam's TED Talk.

There's an app on prisoners' tablets called Edovo. It lets us read and watch all kinds of enriching and educational content, from Kahn Academy, MasterClass, the Marshall Project, and more—including a few podcasts and e-books. While using Edovo the other day, I happened across a program guide for the TEDx event that was held at Farmington last April. I knew about that event but hadn't really been interested in watching the footage, even though it's been available for months. Curiosity about the event's organization was the only reason I opened the TEDx program guide. Perusing its fifty pages, I happened upon a smiling headshot and recognizable name in the list of speakers.

Holy shit! Sam! My mind was blown. Why did I wait so long to get curious about this event?

I got such delight from seeing Sam talk alongside his "LFG" cohost. He looked a little nervous onstage, under those bright lights, but he delivered his message with characteristic openness and enthusiasm. I watched it and thought only, Damn, Sam, you did that!

After the video ended, I conducted a little amateur sleuthing. I learned that, a while after giving his TED Talk, Sam was released on parole. Today he's out of prison, enjoying a new life with the woman he loves, playing whatever game he wants. I feel so much joy for what he gets to experience now.

Someone asked me recently if I felt even the slightest sting, seeing people leave this place. "Not that there's no chance for you," she wrote, "but still, how do you cope with that?" Especially considering what I do for work now, it's a legitimate question. I considered my response awhile before replying.

I choose to be present and aware, and to nurture the good in others. On the path I've chosen to travel, others' successes are cause for celebration. It's like the opposite of schadenfreude. Jealousy gets in the way of our happiness in the same way that plaque builds up in arteries. Why shouldn't I be glad when someone makes it out of prison? They've completed their punishment. They deserve to have that new start so many of us dream about. They deserve some good, for a change.

Sam, if you happen to read this, congratulations! Here's my message to you:
May you be happy.
May you be at peace.
May you be safe.
May you be free.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Byron does not have Internet access. Pariahblog.com posts are sent from his cell by way of a secure service especially for prisoners' use. We do read him your comments, however, and he enjoys hearing your thoughts very much.