Franky Carrillo, An Introduction

The amazing thing about Franky Carrillo is his grace. During his wrongful incarceration at Folsom State Prison he never let the prison system own him. He never got a tattoo; he never became an inmate. And when he was released and people asked him if he was angry, he said, “You go be angry for me. I don’t have time for anger. I have a life to live.” Even after all the time he lost, Franky lives a life of forgiveness. Soon after his release, he reached out to the judge who passed his sentence, as well as the prosecuting District Attorney. He has had dinner with both of them, and has befriended the former head of the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation. He was determined that no one would be carrying guilt on his behalf. He shared this with the inmates during the recent TCC Banquet at Folsom, and he told them that because of the path he has chosen, he is in a position to be of service to them and change the system on their behalf.

The first day I went into Folsom with Judy Tretheway, Franky was wearing white shorts and a white shirt. (Inmates have to wear a blue shirt or pants at all times, so Franky was breaking the rules, but I think the guards decided to let him get away with it.) I assumed during class that he was a volunteer. After class he walked us back across the yard and through the final cellblock and then stopped. I said to Judy, “Isn’t Franky coming with us?” She just smiled and said, “There’s something different about him isn’t there? He’s innocent.” That was two years before he was released.

It was hard after that to witness his suffering. At one point, as his case got closer to winning, he’d gotten so depressed he stopped coming to T’ai Chi Chih class. The prison administrators told him he’d be out by Thanksgiving, but the holiday came and went. Then Christmas passed. One day I saw him on my way to class and said, “Please come; it will help you.” He came, and never missed a class after that. For Franky’s last class, he stood in the center of the circle as we did Push Pull.

(We often do this in Folsom. The men either stand in the center, or they put the image of a loved one in the center and share his/her name. And everyone sends their love energy to those people. We emphasize not depleting one’s own energy when doing this, but pulling it in and then sending it out, like a channel.) As Franky stood in the center, he told us he’d be gone soon. This demonstrated a great deal of trust because sometimes others will try to sabotage another’s upcoming release. He stood in the center, arms and palms open to receive our love, tears rolling down his face. It was an incredible moment. I later received news of his release while at my own teacher training in March 2011. Two years after that, I met Franky again in a park in Los Angeles in March, where he was gathered with friends and family to celebrate the third year of his release and his 40th birthday. I le d him and his family and friends in a circle TCC practice under blue skies. When we finished, I turned to hug him, and he sobbed as a free man. He’s quite a guy.