Prisoner Profile:

Name: Marcus J. Rivera
Age: 29
Background: Marcus grew up in the Bronx, where he loved playing basketball and writing poetry. He graduated high school but struggled to find steady work afterward.
Reason for Incarceration: Marcus is currently serving time at Rikers Island for fare evasion and unpaid fines. He had repeatedly jumped subway turnstiles when he couldn’t afford train fare, and when the unpaid tickets and fines built up, he was eventually arrested.
Hobbies & Interests: Marcus enjoys drawing, writing poems about city life, and reading history books. He hopes to finish a certification in carpentry while at Rikers so he can build a more stable life when released.
Future Goals: Marcus wants to reunite with his younger brother, help his mother with rent, and eventually open a small business fixing and building furniture.

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Dear Marcus,
 

My name is Tristan, and I wanted to take a moment to write you this letter. I don’t know you personally, but when I read about your story, something about it really stuck with me, maybe because I can tell you’re someone who deserves a second chance. Either way, I wanted to let you know that there are people out here rooting for you, even if you haven’t met us yet.

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I'm 14, and I live near the Hudson river, in New Jersey. I’m in high school, and when I’m not doing homework, I spend a lot of time playing games or just hanging out with my friends. I also write a little, writing essays about big topics that affect people. So when I read that you write poetry, I thought that would be something we have in common.

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I’d love to hear more about your poetry. Do you just write about the city, or the people around you? Poetry has a way of capturing moments that most people overlook. There's something powerful about putting feelings into words, especially when the world tries to quiet you down. I imagine that the city gives you lots of inspiration, the late night train rides, the sound of traffic, the stories of the people you meet. If you ever feel like sharing a line or two, I’d be honored to read it someday.

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You also mentioned you’ve been reading history books. That's awesome. I think history has a way of reminding us that no moment lasts forever. Every challenge is just a part of a story. What kind of history do you like? Lately, I’ve become interested in writings from the early 17th period, especially people like Miguel de Cervantes. I think that sometimes, how much power there is in staying committed to your craft and your dreams, even when the odds are stacked against you.

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What I really think is special about you, is how you’re using this time to grow. A lot of people might sit back and wait for their sentence to end, but you’re putting in work. That says so much about the kind of person you are. It shows that you’re not giving up, even when the situation is tough. Not everyone has that kind of determination, and it makes me think that when you get out, you’re going to be ready to start moving along, not just for yourself but for the people you care about too.

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I can see you putting that certification to good use. Carpentry is a useful skill because it's very real and tangible,you can take materials and turn it into something strong and useful that lasts. That’s kind of like what you’re doing with your life right now, taking something difficult and shaping it into something better. I can picture your shop someday, where you build tables, chairs, and shelves for the people that need them. Maybe you could even have your poetry hanging on the walls of the shop, so people not only see what you build but also what you create with your words.

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When I think of your story, I see a spark of possibility. You already have a vision for your life, reuniting with your brother, helping your mom, and building your own business. That vision is what will keep you moving forward. And every poem you rewrite, every skill that you learn, every moment you spend thinking about what's next, that's you laying the foundation for the life you want to build.

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I know that some days must feel heavy, like time is dragging and nothing is changing. But even on the hard days, everything you do to grow matters. Sometimes you don’t see the progress change right away, but every small move adds up to something big at the end.

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If there's one thing I've learned even at 14, it's that progress doesn’t happen overnight. It’s okay to take small steps, planning out how your life will look like. Smaller steps are what makes the big goals possible. I know that life in Rikers could feel isolating, but you aren’t alone. People see not just the mistakes, but the potential, the talent, and the strength you’ve already shown. Hold onto that, and the city will be there when you’re ready to step back into it, and I think it’ll be better with you in it.

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I’d love to keep writing if you’re up for it. Maybe you can tell me about your favorite poets or the kind of carpentry projects you want to try. For now, just know that there are people out there who believe in you and can’t wait to see what you do next. Take care, keep writing, and keep dreaming big, because your story is still being written and it could be a great one.

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From, 

Tristan

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Hello P-,

Thank you for getting back to me. I wanted to respond back with a poem. 

"The Miracle of Morning" By Amanda Gorman

I thought I’d awaken to a world in mourning.
Heavy clouds crowding, a society storming.
But there’s something different on this golden morning.
Something magical in the sunlight, wide and warming.

I see a dad with a stroller taking a jog.
Across the street, a bright-eyed girl chases her dog.
A grandma on a porch fingers her rosaries.
She grins as her young neighbor brings her groceries.

While we might feel small, separate, and all alone,
Our people have never been more closely tethered.
The question isn’t if we will weather this unknown,
But how we will weather this unknown together.

So on this meaningful morn, we mourn and we mend.
Like light, we can’t be broken, even when we bend.

As one, we will defeat both despair and disease.
We stand with healthcare heroes and all employees;
With families, libraries, schools, waiters, artists;
Businesses, restaurants, and hospitals hit hardest.

We ignite not in the light, but in lack thereof,
For it is in loss that we truly learn to love.
In this chaos, we will discover clarity.
In suffering, we must find solidarity.

For it’s our grief that gives us our gratitude,
Shows us how to find hope, if we ever lose it.
So ensure that this ache wasn’t endured in vain:
Do not ignore the pain. Give it purpose. Use it.

Read children’s books, dance alone to DJ music.
Know that this distance will make our hearts grow fonder.
From a wave of woes our world will emerge stronger.

We’ll observe how the burdens braved by humankind
Are also the moments that make us humans kind;
Let every dawn find us courageous, brought closer;
Heeding the light before the fight is over.
When this ends, we’ll smile sweetly, finally seeing
In testing times, we became the best of beings.