Hey, everybody! We on the fence line thank you for your support and amazing questions. Without you, “On the Fence Line” would not be possible. So please keep your questions coming… you may find your question answered in a future segment of “Mail Call.”
For Mail Call #2, we’ll be answering a question that may seem simple, but one that constantly gets asked — especially considering the recent widespread attack and ban on books: What books have you read, and which ones have had an impact on your life during your incarceration?
“Catch a Fire is based on the life of reggae legend Bob Marley. It was 2010, and I was 20 years old when I came across it while serving a 9-month disciplinary sanction in solitary confinement at the Washington State Penitentiary in Walla Walla.
It shed light on the early experiences of Bob Marley and the absence of a father figure in his life. Persevering through a tough upbringing in the streets of Jamaica, readers can appreciate the beautiful heart of the woman who helped raise him.
It was the stories behind the scenes that kept me connected, painting a picture of the events that took place. The book also helped me understand and appreciate the tough decisions that demonstrated true courage. For example, a threat was made on Marley’s life to keep him from performing a song because it was a politically charged event. But because the song gave so much hope to the people, he was willing to die to perform it. He was shot, with the bullet grazing his head, but still went on stage.
It was this book that inspired hope and motivated me to keep persevering while I was in isolation. In life, there will be many obstacles and challenges, but you have to remain determined in your purpose when your moment comes. In retrospect, I can say that the book helped reaffirm values of my own humanity. These same values, that through my humbling experiences and struggles, I maintain and hold on to: love, hope, and faith.”
— Time Meippen. 17 years served. Earliest release date: 2027.
“One of the finest and most eloquent written pieces of literature of the 20th century, to me, ever written, is unarguably East of Eden by John Steinbeck.
I discovered this book in 2012 at Clallam Bay Corrections Center and upon reading the first few pages, I realized I had something special. Steinbeck’s descriptive literary portrait of the greater Salinas Valley is captivating at the least. This work is about three generations of the Trask family from the 1860s through the end of WWI. Covering everything from the ignominious beginning of a family, to an almost pitiful elegy of its “respective status” in Salinas Valley’s social life.
This book attached to my soul the facts that I will re-enter a world that I never left behind because it never existed — an immigrant in my own country. The world has once again, without care toward anyone, rolled into the future, leaving behind what I once knew.
So now I brood suspiciously, like a character in this book. It is not a feel-good story, nor a feel-bad one. It will speak directly to you. It will show how an inability to recognize reality causes anguish. Unlike the central protagonist, Adam, I choose not to lie to myself anymore. I will attempt to accept my own origin story.
I don’t mean simply admitting one day in the future that I was in prison for these specific crimes, but rather who I was before — especially the nasty sour things. The betrayal of loved ones or the apathy of human property and life.
Every time I read East of Eden, I realize I am an amalgamation of Steinbeck’s characters. Looking in the mirror at my poisonous traits isn’t a depressive self-loathing attitude, but a healthy one. To realize there are people around you who need you, to use the magnanimous characteristics of Samuel Hamilton and Lee, two of my favorite characters.
Steinbeck reached into the 21st century and showed me it was going to be OK, that the people who hurt me and the people I hurt are not my life or its direction now. If I choose to, I can make a decision and not float. And how could I forget, there was also a girl, but there almost always is.”
— Jason Achurra, 12 years served. Earliest release date: February 1, 2024.
“I would say the Bible has definitely impacted my life the most during my incarceration. I have read it front to back only once, but continuously read through portions of it often as a way to gain wisdom, occasional guidance, and strength. As a Christian, I feel like it’s certainly a part of my life. I’ve been through many difficult and stressful situations throughout my incarceration, and the Bible has always been there for me. I highly recommend it to all!
—John Whitaker, 21 years served. Earliest release date: Life without parole.
“Pedagogy of the Oppressed by Paulo Freire is one of my favorite books of all time. This book was vital in developing myself as a leader, an organizer, and current president of the Asian Pacific Islander Cultural Awareness Group — SCCC chapter.
To be able to advocate for our rights and for the needs of our community inside and out, it’s essential to critically think about the world around us — its contradictions, and the actions required to enact change. However, one of the most important takeaways from this book is that liberation is achieved through a bottom-up approach. Meaning that those who are directly impacted must take the lead in creating that world. And that anybody can inspire change. Pedagogy of the Oppressed is a must read!”
—Billy Gumabon, 15 years served. Earliest release date: 2042.
I personally have a unique relationship with my books and an intimate connection to the authors who I consider my “cellies.” From Toni Morrison breaking my heart and teaching me how to feel again in Beloved, to traveling the many kitchens of the world with Anthony Bourdain in any one of his memoirs that are strategically tucked under my bunk, to remembering the excitement of falling in love while dancing between the pages of James Baldwin’s No Name in the Street — books allow us to dream and feel again in a place designed to euthanize our spirit.
Books have the ability to transform our surroundings, give us strength during the most trying times, and provide our spirits with peace when the world seems unbearable. They give us insight into new and exciting ideas and theories, while also inspiring and shaping the leaders of today and beyond.
This is why we must protect our books —and my cellies —from the Washington State Department of Corrections and those who are currently aiming to censor and ban the very pages that magically have the power to turn our concrete dungeons into life-giving community gardens full of love.
Because without our stories, how can we dream? Without our teachers, how can we learn to live again? And without my cellies, how do I continue to face these complicated sunsets?
Until next time, keep dreaming.
Felix Sitthivong is a journalist, organizer, member of Empowerment Avenue, and advisor for the Asian Pacific Islander Cultural Awareness Group (APICAG). Through APICAG, Sitthivong has organized immigration, social justice and youth outreach forums and has designed Asian American studies courses, an intersectional feminism 101 class and an anti-domestic violence program. You can reach him with questions for “On the Fence Line” via Securus (WA #354579) or write to him at Felix Sitthivong #354579, 191 Constantine Way, Aberdeen, WA 98520.
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.
