When I first came to prison, I didn’t think education would ever be part of my story again. After four incarcerations, it’s easy to lose faith that change is possible. You start to believe opportunity is something meant for other people. For a long time, I believed that too.
Then, during my sentence, I gained access to educational programs through a secure tablet provided in my facility. At first, I didn’t think much of it. Programs come and go in prison, and hope can feel risky. One day, a friend mentioned that there were parenting courses available. As a mom, that stopped me. I opened the education section, and I couldn’t put it down.
For the first time in years, something sparked my curiosity again, something that felt like a possibility.
I started with parenting, anger management and 12-step courses. Then I explored classes on creativity, planning and anything that focused on self-betterment. Each course gave me tools to think differently, respond instead of react, and believe I didn’t have to repeat old patterns.
For the first time, I began to see my own progress, and others could see it too. Through the Edovo app, I’ve earned 150 certificates and have 80 more in progress. I send them to my social worker and the judge overseeing my child protective services case so they can see the work I’m putting in to rebuild my life. Those certificates show motivation and determination, and they’ve changed how people see me.
More important, they’ve changed how I see myself.
I’m fighting to be reunited with my children, and now that we’re talking, I can share what I’m learning. I tell them that no matter their mistakes, they can always grow and start again. That kind of hope is powerful, especially in a place where negativity can feel like the air you breathe.
I’ve seen what hopelessness does to people inside. When people stop believing they can change, they stop trying. That’s why access to learning matters. When one person starts making progress, others notice. Conversations change, motivation spreads, and people begin to imagine different futures for themselves. When you find something that helps you climb out of the dark, you want everyone else to find it too.
Education in prison hasn’t always been accessible. For years, classes were scarce, with long waiting lists and too few instructors. However, digital access has changed that reality. Through secure, controlled technology — like the tablets used in many facilities — we can access educational programs anytime, on our schedule, at our own pace, and in our own space. That flexibility matters in an environment where schedules, movement and resources are tightly restricted.
The learning is also practical. Many courses teach job and technology skills that we can apply immediately after release. Even with a record, having proof of education gives us a real second chance. For me, it’s also been emotional to learn how to communicate, manage anger and rebuild relationships. Those lessons are just as critical as any job skill because they help you succeed inside and out.
People often say prison is the end of the road. I see it differently now. For me, it’s where my new chapter began. I go home in 60 days, and this time, I feel ready. I’m not the person I was when I came in. I’ve grown, I’ve learned, and I’ve worked too hard to go backward.
Education is the bridge back to society. It has given me hope, reinstilled my confidence, and, most important, allowed me to fight for my family. It turned punishment into purpose; it gave me the strength to move forward.
What I once thought was the end became my second chance.