Prison is not necessarily the ideal environment to cultivate meaningful friendships. At any given moment things can change drastically, and a friend can be taken away in the blink of an eye — just another painful reminder from the system that we’re supposed to be in this alone. Facility transfers, arbitrary stints in solitary confinement, and prison politics all contribute to not wanting to get too attached to anybody on the inside with the hopes of saving yourself the pain of eventually being separated. However, ironically, it’s these same friendships that are also exactly what it takes to survive on the inside.
Which is why for ANHPIA Heritage Month, I’m choosing to feature just that — friendship!
And which is also why when Alexa asked me if I knew of any artist who could handle the task of creating this issue’s cover, it was a no brainer to take opportunity to highlight the work of one of my best friends, Billy Gumabon.
Billy, a 34 year old Filipino-American from Tacoma, WA, whose been incarcerated since the age of 18, and currently serving a nearly 36-year sentence for charges including murder and robbery has constantly exemplified leadership and love for our community. His work with the Asian Pacific Islander Cultural Awarenesses Group (APICAG) and Cultural Collective also continues to provide a space for others to heal while surviving the dehumanizing conditions of the prison system.
Though Billy and I have been separated by the system, our friendship endures and keeps us connected no matter what — which is evident through his cover piece. The following is a “conversation” I recently had with Billy through prison magic and community love… and through this same magic and love I wanna send my love and condolences to my brother Cisco and his family.
Until next time, keep dreaming!
Felix Sitthivong: How has art contributed to your life? To your rehabilitation?
Billy Gumabon: Art has been a source of healing, expression and freedom during my incarceration. My art has gotten me through some very difficult times. In terms of rehabilitation, my art has helped me discover and realize my own potential.
FS: How would you describe the style of your art?
BG: Foundationally I’m a black and gray artist using charcoal and graphite as my primary media. The way I would describe my style is realistic, with a tattoo style approach. However, I have explored with mixed mediums such as, paint, color pencil, markers, and pastels.
FS: Can you share a bit about your organizing work?
BG: I’ve been organizing in prison for about 10 years now. I’ve organizing with the Asian Pacific Islander Cultural Awareness Group (APICAG)—a prisoner-led organization, starting at Clallam Bay. Later, we established a new chapter of at Stafford Creek Correction Center, which I became the president of and served a seven-year term. I have coordinated culturally responsive programs and also organized ethnic study courses, immigration / deportation town halls and seminars, youth outreach workshops, internalized oppression workshops. I have also engaged in cross cultural solidarity work with the Cultural Collective. Contributing to something greater than myself has gave me a source of meaning and purpose on the inside.
FS: In the spirit of ANHPIA Heritage Month, has anybody inspired you (personal, organizing, and/or art)? How so?
BG: I’ve been raised within the prison system since I was 18 years old, so with that said, ANHPIA Heritage month is a fairly new thing or concept to me. I actually didn’t know that there was a month that was dedicated to ANHPIA until I came here to Stafford Creek which the facility celebrated cultural events through a DOC platform called Diversity.
But the two people that have inspire me and who have poured into me, is my parents. Now that I’m older now and learned more about my history and culture, I have a much deeper appreciation and gratitude for them, their sacrifice, their resilience, and their love. I also recognize and honor that a piece of who I am, comes from my parents.
FS: What was your process like in creating this piece for the cover?
BG: When I was initially asked to cover an art piece for ANHPIA Heritage month, I really struggled a lot with visualizing it. I was first feeling the pressure of it because I wanted to do something that would represent everyone, but also stay true to who I am and what it means to me as a second-generation Filipino. So finally, after meditating on my bunk on a message and how I can convey it through art, I mapped something out in my head. So I grabbed a big piece of paper, a couple references, my art supplies, toilet paper (my shading tool) and I sketched out the concept in the day room. The day room is pretty loud, so I had my headphones on listening to some music to drown out the noise and got to work. Sometimes I can get lost in my artwork where time, prison, and everything around me doesn’t really exist anymore.
FS: How does this piece represent what ANHPIA Heritage Month means to you?
BG: The art piece is a representation of what ANHPIA heritage means to me. It is a mixed medium piece (charcoal, paint, pastels), with several parts that have symbolism to me. Lapu Lapu (center) is a Filipino Chief of the Datu tribe, whose leadership led the first resistance against the colonization of Spain in 1500s. It serves as a symbol of strength, resilience, liberation and self-determination. Behind him is a Cherry Blossom tree, which symbolizes new beginnings and new birth, with falling pedals that represents our ancestors who have paved the way. Jose Rizal (left) is a Filipino intellectual whose popular saying: “Know History, Know Self” is the epitome of what API Heritage means to me. Our history is what shapes and grounds our present and grounds us in our cultural identity and self-actualization. Hence, the Buddha (top right) with a yellow sun shining through the piece as a symbol of enlightenment.
Our historical make-up is the foundation of our heritage. While we, today, are the manifestation of our history, we are also creating history ourselves and for those that will come after us. So with that said, let us embrace that responsibility and preserve our culture, our communities and our heritage.
FS: Can you describe for our readers what a typical day in prison is like for you?
BG: A typical day in prison starts off around 7am. I usually check my Securus tablet for messages; most likely for sure I’ll get one from my wife Kellie. I take my time sending her a message back, letting her know I love her, and I also give her a breakdown of my schedule for the day.
I have a job as the facility’s painter. I do paint jobs around, and within the facility, we paint anything from bikes, frames, tables, walls, etc. I also have opportunities to do art / murals within the prison and for events. After work, I take college courses Monday – Friday, working toward getting my associate degree. I also have night classes two evenings in the week. In my free time between classes and work, I try to find time to work out at least four to five times a week either in the gym or yard. From time to time, I kick it with the homies on the fence line or in the yard. I’ll probably do some art projects that I have lined up, or if there’s some homework for classes or organizing work with the APICAG I have to do, then I’ll spend some time with that.
By the end of the day, I usually unwind on the phone with my wife. We usually talk about our days, share some weekly goals, share some laughs and smiles, and then usually try to find a movie to watch together while we’re on the phone. Movies are our love language! I have to end the day will some quality time with wifey!
FS: I want you to imagine that the whole world is listening. What would you say to them?
BG: Honestly bro, I’m kind of stumped with the question. Idk why I feel like I have to say something cool or inspiring; I even wanted to shoot a shot to my haters. Lol. But I’ll just share a reflection from a piece of my conversation I just had in the yard with one of my best friends since childhood when I brought this question up.
It had us thinking about what would I could possibly say if the world is listening. Naturally, I’m an introvert, and also, I have this assumption that the world is ruthless – Where did that come from? Idk. So I have no desire to speak to the “world.”
But I got to thinking—is that just knee jerk response to being in confinement for so long, conditioned to be in isolation? For the homie and I, in our conversation on this topic of having an opportunity to say something to the “world,” we were weaving through topics from our journey of healing, to the pain and struggle of prison, to the love we have for our families and wives, but it ultimately led to this—we just wanna go home. Freedom. And for me, it was mixture of insecurities and doubts, to having these very palpable dreams. I would wonder what it would be like to be free and would the “world” accept us even when we’ve already been condemned. We would imagine what it’ll be like to live with our wives out there, where we would stay, the work we would like to do, to building our families, our dreams, and doing everything under the sun we can envision. And the reality is, this is what keeps us going—a hope that we will one day have an opportunity for real and meaningful redemption and a second chance to be free with the people we love and that love us.
And I know there are many in here who are still holding on to that hope. Right now, I’m thinking about my brother Cisco who just recently lost his mother while incarcerated, who doesn’t even have enough money to afford to pay for the funeral cost or to see her. I know he would give anything to have another moment with his mom…
Why am I sharing this? idk, maybe for just a moment, I just want people to humanize and see us, to see me rather than see my worst mistakes. After 17 years of living every day in a prison system that constantly wants to remind you that are less than a human, I think it’s just a refreshing thought to know people out there are listening and recognize our humanity.
FS: How can people check out more of your artwork?
BG: You can find my work on Instagram under the handle @billyg_artistry. Here’s a link: https://www.instagram.com/billyg_artistry?igsh=MTZsYjJ2aXZlZXlsZA%3D%3D&utm_source=qr.
Felix Sitthivong is an incarcerated storyteller, community organizer, and founding member of the Peoples’ Empowerment Assembly for Collective Equity (PEACE). Sitthivong is also the former president and senior advisor for the Asian Pacific Islander Cultural Awareness Group (APICAG). He is currently serving a 66-year sentence at the Washington Corrections Center in Shelton, WA. Reach him with questions for “On the Fence Line” via Securus (WA #354579) or write to him at Felix Sitthivong #354579, PO BOX 900, Shelton, WA 98584.
Felix Sitthivong is an incarcerated storyteller, community organizer, and founding member of the Peoples’ Empowerment Assembly for Collective Equity (PEACE). Sitthivong is also the former president and senior advisor for the Asian Pacific Islander Cultural Awareness Group (APICAG). He is currently serving a 66-year sentence at the Washington Corrections Center in Shelton, WA. Reach him with questions for “On the Fence Line” via Securus (WA #354579) or write to him at Felix Sitthivong #354579, PO BOX 900, Shelton, WA 98584.
