Second Chance Parenting | David Pride | TEDxDonovanCorrectional

Family Education
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Every day in our society, children are lost to gangs, drugs, human trafficking, and prison.
Some of the parents of these children have a similar story.
They were straight-A students on the honor roll, involved in church or the community,
yet they still succumb to these tragedies without their parents noticing any signs of decline until it was too late to step in.
Today, it's not too late for you parents out there. I had a second chance to be a better parent.
From the most unlikely of places, I got my second chance to be a better parent, the parent that I needed to have as a youth.
My childhood started good. I had both parents in the home.
We had family dinners together, my mom, my dad, my big brother, both sisters and me.
I remember family outings, like amusement parks, where fish and chips were the best.
I was a happy child, until one day, my world came crashing down.
My mom was accused of trying to kill me when I was seven, and this tore my family apart.
When I got to the hospital, my mom and dad went through a bitter divorce, and my dad was granted custody of my younger sister and me.
All that I was left with of my mom were memories and nightmares.
In my nightmares, I fought for my mom, and I searched for her through the tears.
I knew my mom didn't try to kill me. I remember that night better than I remember yesterday.
I had a very bad headache, and she simply gave me the wrong pain medication.
From that day forward, there were no more motherly hugs or kisses.
The gentleness in my life was gone.
So my dad, ex-con, biker, and water by trade, took on the challenge of being a single parent, an action I've always respected about him.
Whether he succeeded or not, I believe he was the best parent that he knew how to be.
You see, my dad was in the motorcycle club.
So growing up, I would see the club colors, the leather jackets and boots, worn by this six-foot-four, 270-pound giant on the motorcycle.
I saw my dad as this big, tough dude.
Like most young sons, I wanted to be just like my dad, my hero.
So I put on this tough image.
But this didn't appeal to my dad.
He would often say to me, son, I want you to be better than me.
Stay in school. Get good grades.
But the good grades I got, but being better than him, confused me.
He was my only example of what a man and a parent is supposed to be.
As a parent, my dad and various stepmothers ruled with an iron fist.
Every error I made was dealt with whoopings and punishments.
I never had a voice or an opinion.
The adult was always right.
I began to feel like an extra in a lifelong movie whose role was actually insignificant.
Coupled with these stressors, and my dad spending long hours at work and at his motorcycle club, led me to seek male companionship in the streets.
A gang of guys in my neighborhood soon became my surrogate family in my dad's absence.
They didn't judge me nor condemn me.
These guys were like a brotherhood.
And their way of life soon became my way of life.
Drugs, alcohol, weapons and crime.
My new life in the streets caused my world to grow dark.
So dark I couldn't see past the hood light.
And although surrounded by my new family, I felt all alone.
And at a meaningless point.
Because deep down inside, I wanted more.
Everything seemed meaningless to me.
Even my dreams of going to technical school.
I was in love with the mystery of how things like computers, games and wireless devices work.
So I would take electronics apart.
One day, my dad came into my room and he noticed I took apart the cable box and the video game.
He said, boy, you better put that back together.
And I did just as they were before.
Like a damaged computer chip, my brain still retained some of this data of what I once aspired to do with my life.
But now, it seemed out of reach.
At times, I would break down and cry.
Whenever I would remember who I once wanted to be.
Because I just didn't know how to start my life over.
I felt I was in too deep.
A lost cause.
There were many nights when I would find myself praying in the street lights.
Years before the rapper Coolio rapped that verse in the song Gangsta's Paradise.
This adopted lifestyle landed me in prison with a life without the possibility of parole sentence.
At the tender age of 20.
For the past 26 years of my incarceration,
I've had to dissect and re-examine every part of my adolescent years to see what went wrong.
And what, if anything, could have been done to prevent my life from turning out as it did.
Wasting so much potential.
Well, I found my answer.
I needed more from my parents to help me prepare for the critical stages of my life.
Growing up, I was told, I'm your parent, not your friend.
My job is to feed, clothe, and put a roof over your head.
Well, as a parent myself today, I can tell you it's a lot more true than that.
And I've successfully co-parented my own children in prison.
Through letters, phone calls, and visitation.
The parent that I needed growing up is the parent that I am today.
Although incarcerated, I knew early on, if I failed or succeeded at raising my own children, it was entirely on me.
So everything that I didn't get as a child, I gave to my children.
I established communication with my children.
Allowing them to have a voice and an opinion without repercussions.
In order to really get to know them.
I give my children friendship, not dictatorship, to establish trust.
I had to change my behavior, leading by example, so I wouldn't be hypocrite in their eyes.
My wife and I both got GEDs, a college education.
Today, my wife is a nurse.
I let myself be vulnerable, revealing to my children my own errors growing up, as well as my own imperfections.
Because my mission as a parent is not to punish or simply give orders, but to help them navigate through life.
I had to be open to who or what they want to be in life.
And help them get there for their joint success.
One of my daughters came and said that she wanted to be a lawyer.
So my wife went out and got these nice suits.
We put in this legal program that did mock trials and a class setting.
Changed her whole outlook on life.
My younger daughter, who's a mediator, me and my wife have issues, said she wants to be a psychologist.
When she graduates this year, we're at a 4.0.
And next year, she'll be going to college to pursue a psych degree.
Where we fail as parents, the gangs, the drug dealers, the pimps, and human traffickers, and the prison system, succeeds at taking our children.
The gangs are the illusion of surrogate families that accept our children with all their flaws, without judgment or condemnation.
The drug dealers provide the sensation of pleasure, false happiness, and escape.
The pimps and human traffickers offer a false sense of independence, loyalty, protection, and financial security to the naive young girls, our daughters.
The reasons why children fall prey to these strangers is some parents leave no room for error.
And purgatory within the home is what is offered over understanding.
As parents, one can't go overboard, stripping away a child's identity and character to meet our own expectations for a life we cannot live.
The last thing I needed to do as a parent was to pretend that I was perfect.
That I never made mistakes.
That this wouldn't cause my child to feel shame or fear when they make mistakes.
And they may simply withdraw into their own world of safety, never confiding in me in a crisis.
I learned the best way to identify with my children is to revisit my childhood and make note of my wants, needs, and desires growing up, especially my tears.
Remember, you were a child, and the same conflicts that arose then with your parents are the same conflicts that are present today.
But somehow we forget this.
Although I may be in prison, I got my second chance to be a better parent.
The man I should have been is the man that I am today.
I'm a better me because I have to be the best for my children.
I am a success, bound or free.
Second chances at raising a child is rare.
Our children's futures depend on us parents more than we may ever know.
I am the consequence that parents suffer when they don't help facilitate their children's dreams
or refuse to provide the necessary resources and time needed for a child to accomplish their goals.
As parents, from the day our children are born, we are the launch pads for everything dreamed of for their future and success in life.
From this very hard place, I was able to give my children the gentleness I needed from my mother.
So from the comfort of your homes, shouldn't you be able to provide the same for your children?
This is not about you being a bad parent.
It's about me being a better parent.
Consider this.
Most mammals in the animal kingdom not only feed, protect, and shelter their young,
but they teach them what's good to eat, how to catch it, what predators to avoid,
and how to raise their own young before they are pushed from the nest, driven out the cave, or from the pride.
So too for us civilized human beings who owe our children beyond food, clothing, and shelter,
everything that they need to survive, to thrive, and to raise their own children,
what they love that supersedes parental and maternal obligations.
As we prepare them for life in the adult world, I can only imagine where I would be today
had my dad given me a book on computers or electronics.
We would never know.
Thank you.
