By: Phillip A. Jones, Jr.
I grew up in the trenches of Baltimore in the 1980s, the eldest son of three boys. Both of my
parents struggled with substance abuse, and by the time I was 10 years old, I was supporting my
two younger brothers while my mother was largely absent due to her addiction. Desperate for a
means to support myself and my siblings, I turned to the only viable source of income: street
drugs. I started as a runner and slowly transitioned into a dealer. It was not something I wanted to
do. I wanted to be in school, doing the same things my peers were doing. But I had no choice,
because joining a gang was my only option for survival.
At the age of 19, I was arrested for the shooting of another young man, and for over three
decades I have lived with an enormous amount of guilt and regret for what I did. I thank God
every day that the young man that I shot was able to recover from his injuries and go on to live
out the rest of his life. For my offense, I was given a life sentence plus an additional 20 years.
When I hit the gates of the state prison, I was still clinging to the mindset I had on the streets,
and it took me quite a few years to mature, because I was dealing with a lot of emotional trauma.
It wasn’t until I was sent to the supermax in 1996 that I began my transformation.
Entering prison with nothing more than an eighth-grade education, I lacked the ability to seek
out a better existence for myself. In 1996, I was sent to solitary confinement and remained there
for five solid years. Having a lot of time on my hands, I turned towards reading for the first time
in my life. I fell in love with learning while I sat in a cell for 23 hours a day. I must have read
hundreds of books, and it was at this point that I discovered an entirely new perspective on life:
new values, new goals, and new hope. I began to notice that my ideas about right and wrong, my
entire belief system, had shifted. I decided that I wanted to be a part of the solution, not a part of
the problem. I decided that I wanted to do something to make amends for the harm I had done as
a younger man.
I began taking all the classes and programs that were available to me. I began to mentor other
young men in similar situations to mine and tried to be the best example I could, so they had a
functional role model. I started earning certificates and awards for my work, as well as credits
for college through my educational pursuits. I joined organizations and programs that gave me
the tools to improve as a person. I took all of the skills I had learned, and I authored two books,
a comprehensive workbook and curriculum for justice-impacted men and women returning to
their communities called Exit 2 Excellence, and a youth gang prevention manual and program
for adolescents called From Risk 2 Resilience. My hope is that both publications will assist
others seeking positive growth and change. In 2022, I started my own podcast, called The Wall:
Behind and Beyond, which I currently host with the help of a dedicated production team. I also
founded a nonprofit organization called Inside Outside Consults, which provides advocacy and
resource support for incarcerated men and women and their families, and I used my nonprofit’s
network to launch a scholarship program for at risk youth who had achieved their diplomas and
avoided gang recruitment. Finally, I founded and currently run a consulting business called
Phillip A. Jones Consulting LLC, focused on providing serviceable solutions to policy makers
based on empirical research, lived experience and practical solutions. I became an advocate for
those without a voice, so the people on the other side of the wall pushing for legislative and
functional resources can understand how best to serve the incarcerated population. In this
leadership role, I try to inspire others to strive for change and I teach them what true
rehabilitation looks like. My overarching goal in all the work I do, is to help the
justice-impacted return to our communities whole and healthy, as well as to provide healing to
the broken and misguided. My journey has been long, and fraught with setbacks and missteps,
but I believe that mine is a story of redemption through advocacy.
After 35 years of incarceration, I have learned some important lessons: integrity and authenticity
are critical to achieving every single goal; hard work is always rewarded; and every human being
is deserving of a second chance. In 2025, the state of Maryland passed legislation titled the
Second Look Act. This new law went into effect on October 1 and provides a vehicle for those
impacted by long-term incarceration who were under the age of 25 at the time of conviction and
have served at least 20 years of their sentences, to petition the court for a reduction of their
original sentences. I was lucky enough to be a part of the groundswell of grassroots organizing
that helped see this legislation through to fruition. And I am one of the people who is eligible for
relief under the new law. As I prepare to submit my motion to the Maryland circuit court, I am
reflecting on the path that brought me here to this moment, as well as the concept of second
chances.
What I, and the hundreds if not thousands of other justice-impacted individuals who seek release
under Second Look-type legislation, are looking for is not sympathy or even forgiveness. What
we are asking for is the opportunity to show that we are deserving of both. Yes, I have been
separated from my children for more than three decades. Yes, I have a young grandson whom I
have never had the opportunity to meet in person. And yes, I have missed out on every
substantial milestone that most free people experience throughout their lives. But this story is not
unique to me, and I most certainly have not been incarcerated longer than some. What I – and so
many other people in my situation – are seeking is a chance to prove to myself, my family, and
my community, that change is always possible, that human beings do have the capacity to grow
even behind a prison wall, and that salvation is earned, not promised. For the men and women
like me, who have spent decades learning how to heal not only ourselves but our communities, a
second chance is all we need to find redemption.