I grew up in outer southeast Portland, and though my childhood was not conventional, it was not remarkable.
I had two moms and my father was an anonymous sperm donor. Only now with DNA testing do I know who my father was, long deceased. I have had the privilege of meeting some of my siblings, of which there are many. Fifteen? I’ve lost count. So many offspring were produced by each donor that OHSU is getting sued.
Before “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” it was against the rules to be gay in the military—my mom hid not only her own sexuality but had to feed into rumors about who had “knocked her up” when her pregnancy with me began to show. In certain company my family structure was a secret. Otherwise, I had a semi-normal middle class upbringing in Gresham, Oregon.
When I was 19 I joined the Air Force (my mom had been career Air Force), but I got hurt in basic training. For that injury I have been awarded a 10% disability rating by the VA.
My drug use had been recreational since adolescence, but by my early 20s I developed a severe opioid use disorder. I spent several years addicted to heroin, first smoking and then injecting. I struggled to get access to detox and treatment. The treatment I did get was of a poor quality. I overdosed many times, miraculously I was always found and revived.
At the age of 23, I was arrested and convicted of felony possession of heroin and “volunteered” for drug court, in attempt to evade a felony. I found the court-mandated services to be more punitive than helpful.
Within months I was convicted of yet another felony for “heroin residue” swabbed from a scrap of plastic in my car after an illegal search. I was jailed again, and for the first time in my life I lost my job and was not working. My hopelessness grew, I saw my future as ruined. I thought I would die from heroin and I was okay with that.
At age 24 my mom died suddenly and unexpectedly of a prescription drug overdose. I was shocked. I was the one who used drugs, not her. I barely survived the grief. Heroin was always just slightly more convenient than suicide, and extreme tolerance prevented me from overdosing intentionally.
Six months later I was arrested on a federal delivery resulting in death case for the overdose death of one of my best friends, Justin. I was sentenced to 5 years in prison. Drug addiction and incarceration have touched every facet of my life.
I spent 9 months at Multnomah County’s Inverness Jail, which had rampant drug use and awful food; then a year at Columbia County Jail, where I was treated with respect by the deputies but suffered from a complete lack of educational or recreational activities; before finally being sentenced and transported to federal prison. I didn’t get to go to a “camp” like the famous memoirs and the TV show. I instead went to a higher-security level, Dublin Federal Correctional Institution, in the Bay Area of California.
I learned fluent Spanish in my two years at FCI Dublin, which had a very high percentage of women that were citizens of Mexico—almost none had committed immigration crimes. I wrote an article about learning Spanish and how it affected me, published by Vice.
January 9th, 2018, I was released into a federal halfway house, and I immediately enrolled in Portland State University. I have a double major of public health and Spanish. I was released from house arrest and transferred to supervised release in January 2019.
I was awarded the Gilman Scholarship to study abroad in South America during the summer of 2019. I studied in Argentina and Uruguay and traveled to Peru and Brazil. I then did an internship performing translations for INCLO (International Network of Civil Liberties Organizations) in their Argentina office. I did all of these things while on federal supervision.
Since my internship I have become deeply interested in the field of international human rights, which has many parallels to work within the US criminal-legal system. Mostly because mass incarceration is a human rights crisis, occurring on domestic soil with very little public outrage.
The week after my return to the US I was back to peeing in a cup on command and asking for permission to cross the river into Vancouver, Washington—effectively returned to second-class citizen status. Even now, off of probation, I am prohibited from renting an apartment or even an AirBnb, delivering for GrubHub, adopting children, and holding many jobs. My punishment will continue long after the supposed end of my sentence.
I graduated Summa Cum Laude in August of 2021 with a Bachelors in Community Health Promotion and Spanish, with a minor in Latin American studies. My thesis about fentanyl misinformation and how it used to manipulate discussions around immigration went on to be a peer-reviewed publication.
In February of 2020, I was appointed to serve as a commissioner on Oregon’s Alcohol and Drug Policy Commission. In January of 2021, I was appointed by the Oregon Health Authority to the Measure 110 Oversight and Accountability Council where I am one of 21 Oregonians determining the grant funding that came in tandem with drug decriminalization. In December of 2021, I was appointed to the Multnomah County Local Public Safety Coordinating Council. I serve on all three boards simultaneously.
Represented by a literary agent, I am in the process of developing a book proposal. In August of 2021, I coordinated harm reduction on the Atmosphere and Cypress Hill tour in an effort that would later become Beats Overdose. We continue to dispense thousands of doses of naloxone and fentanyl test strips and have demonstrably saved lives. Upstream prevention prevents the need for punishment while simultaneously preserving human life.
In September of 2021, I accepted a job with JSTOR Daily as the engagement editor over the American Prison Newspapers collection. My job is to excavate stories and weave them into compelling narratives. I work with freelancers, always seeking those are directly impacted, as well as directly research and write pieces.
In the fall of 2024, I am beginning a PhD program in Global Health at the University of California San Diego and San Diego State University, specializing in overdose and its prevention, drug policy, and the US-Mexico border. Since my release, I have worked with harm reduction projects across the world, from Portugal to Mexico to Brazil. I speak Spanish fluently and have worked as a translator and interpreter, and most recently learned Portuguese. Portugal’s drug decriminalization is one of the most effective models of drug policy in the world. People with felonies can travel internationally, a common misconception I try to debunk.
If I were Black, I would likely still be in prison. I am an outlier in the system and I try to recognize the forces that have influenced my ability to achieve success in this piece I wrote for The Marshall Project. Money and whiteness made my experience fundamentally different—and that is unbearably unfair.
My friend, to whom the United States Government refers to as my “victim”, was named Justin Delong. His memory reminds me that both time and life are short, life is a gift, and I must ensure that all the suffering was not in vain; I want to make a difference. For Justin. For all the lives lost to overdose. For all the lives constrained by incarceration and by untreated addiction.