I glanced at my phone. “Missed call from Zach.”   I gulped.   Unscheduled calls from former students elicit some trepidation. Over the years I’ve come to learn that sometimes, no news is the best news. Surprise phone calls are often accompanied with a problem – issues with a probation officer, troubles finding stable housing.   I called back.   Zach’s voice was gleeful. “Yo! Spence! Whaddup?”   Still, I was nervous. I apologized for missing his call, explaining that I was in

6 AM Wednesday morning.   As I get older, I become more of a morning person. I make my coffee, crack the door open to let in some fresh air, and listen to the world spin outside.   Outside my apartment, there’s a beautiful Japanese Maple. This year I watched its leaves transform from dark red to bright gold. It was glorious.   Every holiday season, HeartBound prepares Thanksgiving and Christmas meals for our students. These special meals are a wonderful time to bring everyone

The last guests were filtering out the doors.  All was peaceful, our first slow moment of the day.   Then, a loud cry from down the hallway.   I dropped the box I was carrying and turned towards the noise. A woman was hunched over, hand over her mouth, crying. Andrea stood next to her. What was happening? I looked at Grace with alarm.   “That’s her in the photo, Spencer.”   At this woman’s feet was an oversized photo printed on foam board. The photo showed a woman singing in

I wish I could say that getting out of prison is the easy part.   That once you’re released, life is so much better.   That those hopes and wishes you had dreamt up during your incarceration become actualized. That life becomes normal again. That family, friends, and your neighborhood welcome you home with open arms.   But release from prison is not a new beginning or a second chance for many of the men, women, and teenagers we work with. Instead, it’s often just the continua

Audrey entered the room with a nervous energy that filled the air, thick and unmistakable. ​ “Is this the program where we get to read for our kids?” she asked, her voice filled with enthusiasm.   “Yes,” I replied.   A few minutes passed as we waited for other women to arrive. I realized that she’d be our only reader that afternoon. Normally, that might have left me feeling disappointed. But not today. Today felt different. We sat together and talked about choosing books for