A new beginning.
A second chance.

My name is Elliott Lee Robinson, and I have been incarcerated for 27 years. I am currently serving a life sentence for abduction, carjacking, robbery, and the use of a firearm in the commission of a felony. At the time of my offense, I was 19 years old, a first-time felon, and had no prior history of violence.

Every day, I watch young men and women receive lengthy prison sentences that can leave them facing the possibility of growing old and dying behind prison walls. I understand that actions have consequences, and I am not asking anyone to ignore the harm caused by crime. However, I also believe we are supposed to live in a society that recognizes forgiveness, rehabilitation, and second chances. I often ask myself: Where is the empathy? Where is the understanding that a human being can change?

I believe change is possible when an individual has a strong support system and, most importantly, a genuine determination to change. Education, vocational training, rehabilitative programs, mental health services, mentorship, and spirituality can provide the tools necessary to build a different life. When a person commits themselves to those opportunities and demonstrates change through their actions, I believe they have given themselves a meaningful opportunity to redeem their story.

Today, I am 45 years old and have spent more than half of my life incarcerated. When I think about the 19-year-old young man I once was, I cannot accept the idea that he was incapable of maturing, learning, and becoming someone different. To believe that a person can never change is to deny one of the most remarkable parts of being human: our ability to evolve.

I have never tried to make excuses for the choices that brought me here. I accept responsibility for my actions and the consequences they caused. Someone once told me, “Never live in regret.” The truth is, I live with regret every day. There are moments when that regret can become mentally paralyzing. What helps me move forward is knowing, without a shadow of a doubt, that I am a better man today than I was on February 18, 2000.

I am a man seeking redemption.

Every morning, I wake up knowing that although my body is confined, my mind, heart, and soul have experienced a freedom and understanding that I did not possess as a young man. Every day, I continue working to confront the darker parts of my past and replace them with kindness, respect, honesty, accountability, forgiveness, and purpose. I cannot erase my past, but I can decide what I do with the life and time I have today.

My incarceration is part of my story, but I refuse to believe it must be the final definition of my life. I want my growth to mean something. I want the lessons I have learned to become something that can help another young person recognize the consequences of their choices before they travel the road that I did.

I honestly do not know what Allah has in store for my future. What I do know is that I do not want to be remembered only for who I was or for the worst things I have done. I want to be remembered for the man I became, the responsibility I accepted, the changes I made, and what I chose to do with those changes.

I cannot rewrite yesterday, but every day I am given another opportunity to write the person I am becoming. My past explains where I have been; it does not have to determine where my story ends.

I am Elliott Lee Robinson, and I am still becoming a better man. I am still growing. I am still learning. And I am still seeking redemption.