Still Teaching, Just Not in a Classroom

I have always been an educator and a facilitator at heart. Long before my work moved into advocacy, writing, and public conversation, I believed deeply in the power of learning, dialogue, and structured guidance to help people grow. At its core, education is not about information alone. It is about understanding, accountability, and transformation. That belief has never left me. What has changed is the classroom.

My purpose has moved beyond four walls and into the world. Today, the subjects I teach are not always comfortable. They involve mental illness, the justice system, rehabilitation, stigma, and redemption. These topics can be triggering. They are often polarizing. They challenge assumptions people hold tightly, sometimes without realizing it. Yet they are the conversations that shape lives, policies, and futures.

I do this work because I have lived the consequences of misunderstanding, silence, and stigma. I also do it because I have lived the power of recovery, structure, and accountability when the right supports are in place. My story is not offered as an excuse or a defense. It is offered as evidence that change is possible, and that it requires collaboration rather than condemnation.

At the center of my work is a belief that recovery does not happen in isolation. Healing is not linear, and rehabilitation is not passive. It is active, relational, and demanding. Over time, my lived experience crystallized into what I now call the Four Pillars Model: Psychiatry, Therapy, Family, and Faith Community. These pillars did not save me overnight. They anchored me through seasons of instability, consequence, reflection, and growth. They gave structure to my recovery and accountability to my progress.

I am grateful for the justice system, not because it is perfect, but because it played a role in interrupting a destructive trajectory in my life. Accountability mattered. Consequences mattered. Structure mattered. Without those interventions, paired with treatment and support, I would not be where I am today. This is a truth that complicates easy narratives. It is also one many people resist hearing.

Some people misunderstand my work as advocacy without accountability. Others mischaracterize it as sympathy without responsibility. Neither is accurate. I believe in proportional justice because excess and neglect both undermine rehabilitation. I believe in accountability because growth without responsibility is illusion. I believe in redemption because people are more than the worst thing they have done.

Talking openly about these beliefs comes at a cost. I am called names. I am accused of bad faith. I have been labeled a grifter. I have received death threats. I have received voicemails instructing me to kill myself. These moments are sobering, and they are painful. They also reveal how unprepared we are, as a society, to sit with complexity.

When conversations trigger fear or anger, the instinct is often to silence the speaker rather than examine the discomfort. But silence does not heal. Avoidance does not rehabilitate. Suppression does not redeem. Someone has to be willing to speak honestly about the intersections of mental health, justice, and human dignity, even when the response is hostile.

I continue this work because there are people watching quietly. People who are trying to recover. People navigating diagnoses, probation, parole, stigma, and fractured relationships. People who want to do better but do not know how to access the tools, language, or support to begin. For every angry message, there are private notes of gratitude. For every accusation, there is someone who feels seen for the first time.

As an educator, I believe learning happens when people feel both challenged and supported. As a facilitator, I believe progress happens when conversations are structured, honest, and grounded in reality. My work lives in that space. I do not promise easy answers. I offer frameworks, language, and lived insight to help people think more clearly and act more responsibly.

Recovery, rehabilitation, and redemption are not abstract concepts to me. They are processes I have lived and continue to live. They require humility, patience, and sustained effort. They also require systems that are willing to evolve, communities willing to engage, and individuals willing to be accountable.

My calling is to use my story to foster understanding and healing for others, not by softening hard truths, but by holding them with care. I will continue to speak, teach, and facilitate these conversations because they matter. Not everyone will agree with me. Not everyone will like me. That is not the goal.

The goal is progress. The goal is fewer lives lost to despair, untreated illness, and perpetual punishment. The goal is a society that understands that accountability and compassion are not opposites, but partners. This is why I do the work I do, and why I will continue to do it.

To learn more about my journey and the lessons I’ve gained along the way, I invite you to explore the rest of my writing and follow the ongoing work I share to support mental health, healing, and rehabilitation with hope. These lessons can be found on my Pillar Posts page.

An empty classroom opens into the real world, where care and accountability stand side by side. Education does not end at the chalkboard. It carries forward into recovery, rehabilitation, and redemption.