RE/CLAIMED Magazine
July-September I ssue
From Prison To Purpose
There are some people whose stories remind us that our past does not determine our future. Lawrence Bartley is one of those people.
Lawrence Bartley Interview
After spending more than two decades incarcerated, Lawrence emerged not simply as a survivor but as a respected journalist, advocate, and one of the nation’s leading voices on the lived experiences of incarceration. Through his works, he has helped reshape the public conversation by ensuring the stories of incarcerated and formerly incarcerated individuals are told with honesty, dignity, and humanity.
After spending more than two decades incarcerated, Lawrence emerged not simply as a survivor but as a respected journalist, advocate, and one of the nation’s leading voices on the lived experiences of incarceration. Through his works, he has helped reshape the public conversation by ensuring the stories of incarcerated and formerly incarcerated individuals are told with honesty, dignity, and humanity.
I recently had the opportunity to sit down with Lawrence for an intimate and thought-provoking conversation about his life. We talked about his years in prison, the challenges and triumphs of coming home, and the incredible work he is doing today to create pathways for understanding, healing, and second chances. What struck me most was not simply his resilience but his unwavering commitment to making sure that the voices of those still behind the prison walls are not forgotten.
Our July-September issue is centered around the theme Reclamation, and there may be no better example of that journey than Lawrence’s own. His story is one of accountability, transformation, and purpose, a reminder that while prison may shape a chapter of a person’s life, it does not have to define the rest of their story.
In this exclusive interview with RE/CLAIMED Magazine, Lawrence reflects on identity, redemption, storytelling, and what it truly means to reclaim your life.
RE/CLAIMED: Your journey from incarceration, beginning at age 17, to becoming Publisher at the Marshall Project Inside is profoundly powerful. Looking back, what personal transformations were most critical in helping you move from surviving the system to reshaping it?
Lawrence Bartley: One way it became helpful was by joining the incarcerated individual Liaison Committee, or ILC. The committee was formed after the Attica uprising in the 1970s and served as a bridge between the incarcerated population and the prison administration. It was an elected position with six-month terms, and each housing unit would elect representatives. We held real elections, and once elected, our responsibility was to gather concerns from the population and present them to the prison administration.
The issues ranged from everyday concerns to serious matters. One day, we might discuss something as simple as changing the commissary's ice cream flavor or address serious allegations of staff misconduct or unsafe conditions. To be effective, we had to understand policies, directives, and procedures and use them to support our arguments. I was responsible for drafting agendas that outlined both the problems and proposed solutions. My team and I would then meet with prison administrators to advocate for change.
The relationship worked both ways. Administrators also used the committee to communicate important information to the incarcerated population. Looking back, that experience shaped much of what I do today. As a journalist, I continue to provide information, help people understand systems that often seem invisible or misunderstood, and represent incarcerated people, their families, and even correctional officials by telling nuanced stories that reveal the complexities of the criminal-legal system. In many ways, the ILC has prepared me for the work I’m doing now.
RE/CLAIMED: You’ve described “information hunger” as a major issue for incarcerated individuals. Why is access to credible news, storytelling, and information so essential for people behind bars, and how does it directly impact rehabilitation, hope, and humanity?
Lawrence Bartley: Today, I had a conversation with a friend of mine. I hadn’t spoken to him in a long time, so I sent him a text to check in and let him know I was thinking about him. He called me, and he was so excited to hear from me. He started sharing what had been going on in his life.
He’s been home for more than ten years. He runs a popular fish store, is involved in real estate, and has completely transformed from the person who once went to prison. He’s no longer operating from a prison mindset. He's a father, a business owner, and a staple in the community. If you met him today, you would never think he had a history of incarceration.
During our conversation, we discussed how some people come home with unrealistic expectations. There’s often a culture in which people expect those who are doing well financially to support them. They see someone who appears successful and assume that person has money to give away. But the reality is often different. People may have regular jobs, families, rent, mortgages, car payments, and other responsibilities. Even giving a few hundred dollars can be difficult. For those who have achieved financial success, much of their money may be tied up in investments, businesses, or family obligations. Sometimes people begin to feel used. That’s why information is so important.
Providing accurate information about what life is really like on the outside helps people develop realistic expectations. Information about voting rights, housing opportunities, employment trends, legal developments, and the challenges people face after incarceration helps individuals better prepare for their return home. Information about changes in the law, legal challenges, and potential legal avenues can also help people navigate their own cases more effectively.
Information can seep into a person’s mind, and helpful information can create a better-informed individual who is more likely to succeed upon release.
RE/CLAIMED: Through News Inside and Inside Story, you’ve built bridges between incarcerated communities and the outside world. What are some of the most overlooked realities about incarceration that society still fails to understand fully?
Lawrence Bartley: Society often treats a person with a criminal record as if they were wearing a scarlet letter. And they think that individuals aren’t skilled enough to come out and thrive in their communities. Moreover, when people are away for extended periods, they miss opportunities to gain experience. So, when an individual comes home and applies for jobs, they’re told they lack experience in a particular field, creating a glass ceiling that can be difficult to break through.
And it can be tough for folks to get an opportunity to gain experience. But every individual is different. Some people have faced adversity inside prisons and jails, including developmental illnesses and PTSD, which makes it difficult for them to function at a complex, high-level pace day in and day out for months and years. This is true, but some individuals can!
And some individuals keep returning to their pressure points, the stress and the trauma that happened in prison, over and over again, because they learn to adapt and survive under these circumstances. They can take those experiences and transfer them into something similar but different, and say, "Oh, I saw this before. I know how to act. I know how to do these things."
And there are many individuals inside who are in college or vocational programs, are networking with civilians, have developed these soft skills, and are doing things like ILC or serving as grievance representatives. Through those experiences, they develop communication, leadership, conflict resolution, and emotional intelligence skills.
Too often, people are underestimated and not given a chance because they are stereotyped. But folks don’t understand that some incarcerated people, and I might say many, possess an extraordinary work ethic yet were never given an opportunity. Many were told they’re worthless, pieces of shit, all their lives. When they are finally given an opportunity, they work hard to prove themselves and often become tremendous assets to the companies that hire them.
That doesn’t mean everyone is the same, nor does it mean everyone is ready for every opportunity. People should be vetted and given a fair chance based on their abilities, not solely on their worst decision.
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RE/CLAIMED: With News Inside reaching more than 2,000 facilities nationwide, what does it mean to you to know that your work is helping restore information, dignity, and connection for people who are often forgotten?
Lawrence Bartley: I’m excited about this! One reality of prison is that a person can be transferred at any moment, and if you develop a relationship with them, they become like family. Some older guys become uncles, some my age become brothers, and some younger than me become little brothers. We cooked, worked, and spent time in the yard together, and we talked about sports. In some cases, we worked together every day.
Being with that person for three to four years as a family, only to have them leave, was very hurtful. So, I developed a hard skin. Not that I wasn’t happy for them; I was just sad that I wasn’t going to see them anymore.
When it was time for me to leave, I realized folks were sad they wouldn’t see me anymore. I remember a correctional officer telling me he was upset that I was leaving because of my work on the program committee. I understood the institution, the job assignments, and the people. Staff would often come to me because I knew which individuals were most likely to succeed in those positions.
When I left, I understood the pain he was feeling. I understood the pain that people who loved and cared for me as a family member were feeling. I created News Inside so folks wouldn’t feel left behind. I wanted people to feel like, “Hey. Lawrence still has us. He's still telling our stories.” He’s telling stories that help people understand what we’re doing in here and what is needed.
Whether it’s highlighting a particular program, explaining a law, or exposing abuse or detectives who have coerced false confessions, the goal is the same: helping incarcerated people be seen and heard.
I felt that, in some way, I could still be there for them even without being physically present. I can continue advocating for them and ensure their voices reach the outside world.
That’s where my sense of pride comes from. Whether I’m speaking somewhere in the country or receiving letters from people who are incarcerated, I’m reminded that the work matters. It means a lot to hear from people who are grateful that their stories are being told and that someone is paying attention to what they’re experiencing. Alongside my superstar colleagues, who do so much of the work of shaping the stories, I feel good about that.
RE/CLAIMED: Your work has earned national recognition, yet your mission remains personal. How do you stay grounded while balancing professional success with the responsibility of representing incarcerated voices?
Lawrence Bartley: When I was part of the ILC, I had to deal with prison administrators who hated my guts, and some of them I hated their guts as well. And there were incarcerated people who hated my guts, and some of them I hated. I know hate is a strong word, but we disliked each other. Still, I learned to see the humanity in each of these individuals. I understood that their experiences helped shape who they were. That does not mean I made excuses for nonsense; I would deal with them in whatever way necessary to achieve the desired outcome.
A lot of it came down to learning how to talk to people, understand them, and move them, while also allowing myself to be moved in some ways. That helped me build relationships with different individuals, including prison administrators, incarcerated people, journalists, and others who came into the facility.
For example, journalists would sometimes come inside the prisons and say, “I want to do this,” or “I want to bring that.” They might not understand that items considered normal on the outside, like a cell phone or a pocketknife, are not allowed inside. Such items could frustrate prison officials because people on the outside often take them for granted.
Before entering, I already understood the rules. If I said we were bringing in a camera, I would make sure everything was kept to a minimum. I would have a list ready. I understand what I can and cannot bring inside and which areas I can and cannot access. Because I understand the system, I do not create unnecessary problems.
It is easy for people to say, “these officers assaulted these individuals,” or “this commissioner has been in power for years and is responsible for everything happening in these facilities.” But sometimes people do not realize that the same commissioner may have been one of the strongest voices working to address those issues. They may not understand how unions, arbitration, and other systems can limit a commissioner’s ability to make certain changes.
Being able to understand and articulate these layers earned me a certain level of respect from prison administrations and incarcerated people. Instead of both sides simply pointing fingers at each other, I tried to draw attention to the actual bad actors, not to everyone as a whole.
My approach has always been to gather information, conduct a detailed investigation, and present it in a way that people can use. My team, my staff, my colleagues, and I investigate and organize the details, then provide that information so others can use it to push for solutions. That is how I have been able to maintain balance. That is also why my work has become essential to people who are incarcerated as well as to prison administrators who run institutions.
RECLAIMED: Throughout our conversation, we’ve discussed your work, your advocacy, and the impact you’ve had on people inside and outside prison walls. I want to shift gears for a moment to talk about the person behind the work. Beyond journalism, you practice Jiu-Jitsu daily, an art rooted in discipline, resilience, and strategy. How has Ho Jiu-Jitsu influenced your mindset, both personally and professionally?
Lawrence Bartley: Jiu-Jitsu influences how I parent, and it is a humbling art. Before I started training, I had experience in several martial arts, including boxing, and I had done well in many of them. So, when I first stepped onto the jiu-jitsu mat, I thought I knew what to expect. I was wrong.
On the first day, I was humbled. I had watched jiu-jitsu on television and at the UFC, and I knew the techniques were complicated. If someone knows what they’re doing, as opposed to someone who doesn't, they have a significant advantage. I never realized how a jiu-jitsu practitioner can make another person feel like a child. Likewise, people who practice jiu-jitsu are the humblest individuals in the world.
What I love most about jiu-jitsu is the culture. It feels like a family. There are men, women, and children all training together, learning together, and helping one another improve. That lesson has influenced how I raise my sons. I enrolled both of my sons in jiu-jitsu so they can learn that if they face failures in life, whether professional, academic, or in the sports they play, they are not daunted.
They’re not devastated by them. They can still get up, come back the next day, and do better. They can still train in our backyard when no one is looking to come back better, and it builds that resilience and no-quit character in them.
Jiu-jitsu teaches resilience in a very immediate way. You spend time learning techniques, and then you’re expected to apply them. You learn by being in the thick of it. In many ways, that’s how life works. You don’t learn everything from theory. You learn through experience and setbacks.
I’ve always been driven by what I endured during incarceration. I know what it’s like to be at the bottom and still have to fight forward. But jiu-jitsu reinforced that mindset on the outside. It reminded me that growth requires humility, discipline, and the willingness to keep showing up even when things get difficult.
At the end of our 6 a.m. training sessions, one of my training partners always says, “Congratulations, you’ve already done the hardest thing you're going to do today. Now you can go off to work.” You know what I mean? Just having that in the back of my mind gives me the confidence to succeed in whatever I do professionally.
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RE/CLAIMED: Jiu-Jitsu often teaches patience under pressure and the ability to find strength in difficult positions. Do you see parallels between the lessons you’ve learned on the mat and your journey in incarceration, reentry, and leadership?
Lawrence Bartley: One of the things jiu-jitsu has taught me is how to respond when things get difficult. When people are under pressure, it often shows. You can see it in their facial expressions, hear it in their tone, or sense it in how they interact with others. Sometimes those reactions are understandable because life can be hard.
Professionally, I’ve learned the importance of staying calm, composed, and emotionally intelligent, even when circumstances are challenging. Facing adversity on the jiu-jitsu mat every day reinforces that mindset. When something difficult happens, my first thought is often, “I’ve seen tougher situations before. I’ve been through worse.” That perspective helps me stay grounded.
I’m not perfect. I’m human. Everyone makes mistakes and can have weak moments. But I find that jiu-jitsu has helped me highlight and surface my strengths more than not.
RE/CLAIMED: On a lighter note, if you had to be compared to a jiu-jitsu movie, would it be submission, a sweep, or an escape, and why?
Lawrence Bartley: That’s a great question. I would say it’s both an escape and a sweep. In jiu-jitsu, a sweep is when you’re in a disadvantageous position, often with your back on the ground, and you’re able to reverse the situation, turn your opponent over, and move into a more advantageous position. An escape is when someone has you in a dangerous position, such as an armbar or another submission, and you’re able to get out of it. You may not have the advantage yet, but you’ve survived the threat and returned to a neutral position.
My life is both of those things. I survived incarceration. I was able to come home, build a meaningful career, and I'm blessed to have the opportunity to advance, as well as a family and community. In that sense, I escaped some of the worst circumstances a person can face.
That’s why I see my journey as both an escape and a sweep. It’s a story of survival, growth, and resilience. It’s about getting out of difficult situations, improving your position whenever you can, and continuing to move forward no matter where you start.
RE/CLAIMED: Lawrence, thank you for sharing your story, your wisdom, and your journey with our readers. Your journey is a powerful reminder that transformation is possible and that our past does not have to define our future.
On behalf of RE/CLAIMED Magazine, thank you for your time, your transparency, and your continued commitment to uplifting the voices of those impacted by incarceration.
RE/CLAIMED Magazine
Stories. Truth. Transformation
-End Interview -
Welcome to RE/CLAIMED Magazine
RE/CLAIMED is a digital magazine and storytelling platform created to honor healing, resilience, and transformation. It serves as a safe, empowering space where individuals from all walks of life can share their experiences, creative expressions, and lived experiences with authenticity and care. Through honest storytelling, reflection, and dialogue, RE/CLAIMED amplifies voices that inspire connection, encourage growth, and remind us that healing is possible, and that our stories have the power to transform not only ourselves, but others as well.
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Editor's Note
Reclamation invites us to rediscover what was truly lost: our dignity, our voice, our purpose, and our hope. It is the courageous work of reclaiming ourselves after pain, trauma, incarceration, loss, or life's unexpected detours. Reclamation is not about becoming someone new; it is about returning to the strength, resilience, and humanity that have always existed within us. In these pages, may you find stories that remind you that no matter where your journey has taken you, your future is still yours to reclaim.
The RE/CLAIMED Library is a curated space dedicated to amplifying authors and their work. We invite writers to showcase their books within our digital library, gaining visibility among readers who value storytelling, lived experience, and transformation. Featuring your book in the RE/CLAIMED Library allows you to connect with a growing community, expand your reach, and have your work discovered in a space rooted in purpose, care, and meaningful storytelling.
Subscribe to RE/CLAIMED Magazine for full access to the February issue, including featured stories, interviews, creative work, and subscriber-only content. Your subscription supports independent storytelling rooted in truth, healing and restoration.
CHILDREN SHOULD NOT BE SENTENCED TO LIFE IN PRISON
Authored by: Jakobe Jenkins
Children Should Not Be Sentenced To Life In Prison
Society must no longer remain passive while children are condemned to spend the rest of their natural lives behind bars. This is a senseless practice that defies reason, betrays justice, and deepens racial wounds. It contradicts everything known about adolescent development, undermines the very purpose of rehabilitation, and perpetuates systemic inequities that target the most vulnerable. This is not merely a policy failure; it is a moral crisis. The public cannot simply comprehend or sympathize with these injustices; individuals must embody the conviction that children deserve a chance to grow physically, emotionally, and mentally. Every child deserves the opportunity to heal and to be redeemed. Change cannot be left to hope or delayed by fear—it must be demanded through legislative action, judicial courage, and community resolve. Children should not be sentenced to life in prison because to do so is a failure of compassion, a distortion of fairness, a perpetuation of bias, a rejection of societal values, a surrender to vengeance, and it is the collective responsibility of society to ensure this truth becomes law, not just belief.
