Interview: Frank Hinojosa

Journalists for Human Rights: Frank, you spent some time in the federal prison system. What did you experience?

Frank Hinojosa: Well, I spent ten years in prison ? at four different penitentiaries. I’ll be honest with you, I got caught, and I paid for it. I learned a lot from that. While I was there, I lost my family. Nevertheless, I was rewarded somehow, some way ? you know, I’m alive to tell you what I learned.

JHR: What did you do there?

FH: From day one, they had me cleaning kitchen tables. At that point, my experience was in automotives, so I refused to clean. At that time, in 1989, the federal government from Washington DC started an on-the-job training program, which was recognized by the federal labor board. I went into an electrical program. I spent all ten years in the program.

Three of those were in Louisiana, where after two years I graduated from my apprenticeship. Then they cut the grant that funded the program. We didn’t know why, but I heard someone say “Those criminals are not going to pay us back.”

That hurt, because I saw so much talent in there. Those outside programs would be wonderful to have. Too many waste their time with cards and games, their minds going to waste.

JHR: Then what happened?

FH: Well, after my three years in Louisiana, I went to Arizona for three more years, then to California.

JHR: I heard that you spent time in the penitentiary at Lompoc. I grew up there, and took a bus to middle school that passed by that prison, and always wondered who was in there.

FH: Thank you for saying that; please ask me anything at all. Don’t worry about offending me.

You say you drove by; it looks ugly from the outside right? Well, it’s much uglier on the inside. I don’t ? I would not wish for anybody to have to be there, not even my enemies.

Anyway, back in Louisiana, I was called to the office, where they told me that my full sentence would be served there. I had to move my family out there, but that did not work out, so I moved them back to California. There was no hope to see them; no programs, no transfer, nothing.

So the electrical training program was important. I was very proud to accomplish this and get my certification. It wasn’t cleaning tables. As a trade, it is very needed in prison and outside of it. Everybody needs it.

It was also my tool, my weapon to transfer. I worked with my supervisor really well, and got his respect. He taught me a lot. One day he asked me why I wasn’t with my family in California, why I didn’t transfer out there. I told him that when I asked for transfers, I was usually denied. He talked to some people, and made it happen. He told me that he didn’t want to lose me, that I was number one on his crew. But he understood that I needed to be close to my family. There are good people working in prisons.

He gave me a letter of recommendation ? that said what I’m able to do, and what I’m not able to do. I still have that letter. He made it seem like I can walk on water!

JHR: What happened in California?

FH: Well, I went to Arizona first, but eventually ended up in Lompoc. At first they wanted to put me on a crew, then they read my letter of recommendation and asked me if I wanted to work on my own. I made $5 a month in 1992, which didn’t buy much. You know, three packs of cigarettes cost 70 cents, but stamps cost 28 cents. And phone calls were expensive; AT & T is not cheap. But once in a while I got to have treats like soup.

Anyway, I learned how to fix electrical things. I made enough money to survive, and to have a few extra things. You just have to learn to survive in there ? it’s part of the show, part of the mojo.

JHR: What about your family?

FH: Well, I had a wife and six children ? three boys and three girls. It was not easy for them when I was in prison in Louisiana; I only saw them a few times. In Arizona, I saw them once. Then in California we wrote to each other back and forth, but my relationship with my wife ended. It can’t last forever when you’re in there.

That’s not easy. It’s not easy to get up in the morning and look up and see how far the fence extends. When you hear somebody crying for help, but you’re not able to. It’s not easy to hold the tears out of your eyes, but you have to. You can’t show weakness whatsoever. At night time you can pull the covers up over your face and let it out. Otherwise, you have to look tough. That is no life for anybody ? but you have to survive. Only the strong survive.

What helped me was a conversation I had with my son when I was in Louisiana. At that point, I needed something else to do besides cleaning tables. One morning, after I was on the phone with him, I went back to my cube and had a talk with myself ? man-to-man. What will I do when I get out? What is my plan? How do I ensure that I don’t come back here? A lot of guys do.

I knew I did not ever want to go back there, so I promised myself to learn a trade. I started studying, and saw the potential in getting certified. It was an accomplishment; now I have a career.

I never thought I’d finish, but I continued, and got transferred to Arizona then California. I learned by experience, and by doing research. I didn’t have to pay for it, and I learned a lot.

At the same time, this all counted towards my certification, at a higher level. When I “graduated” I got a job. I managed to control myself and let time tell ? and it did. I had promised my kids that I would not drink or smoke or lead the life I once did.

Thanks to that, and to my boss for his trust. I showed him that I was serious, but most of all, I didn’t have to prove nothing to anybody but myself. I proved to myself that it can be done.

There are a lot of people in the system who say “I’m an ex-convict, I’ll never get hired.” That is baloney. If you go to prison for over a year, you can utilize your time and do something with yourself. You can use that when you get out, and you don’t have to go back. There is no question about it, I am proof.

Because of the work I did, I got my contractor’s license ? which is required for my job. In Lompoc, they signed off on my paperwork so that I could get my license and letters of recommendation. To this day, we still use that license.

JHR: That’s admirable and impressive, Frank. Thank you for sharing your story with us.

FH: I’ve never really talked about it, or even looked back at it before. I’m always looking forward. I don’t forget about the past, and I keep in mind what I did, but I also keep in mind the promise I made to myself. My kids are very proud of me.