[Music] Hello, and welcome to another episode of Evolving Prisons with me, Kagan Kari. If you want to listen to monthly bonus episodes, you can subscribe for only £3 per month by hitting the link in the show notes. Before we jump into today's episode, I'd be really grateful if you'd please rate the podcast on whatever platform you listen, as more readings mean more people will discover the show. My guest today is Porsche Louder. Porsche spent almost five years in federal prison for mortgage fraud. She was allowed eight weeks at home with her husband and children before starting her prison sentence, and she tells us how they navigated this time period. She shares her only seeing them five times throughout her five-year sentence impacted the family, and how she readjusted to life back in the family unit when she was released from prison. Porsche is now a writer, photographer, speaker and advocate, and has offered two books about her experiences. I hope you enjoy this conversation. [Music] So, Porsche, what was going on for you at the time when you started committing crime? Yeah, a little bit of background. I'm the oldest of seven kids in my family. My parents were both entrepreneurs, so I grew up in a home where my dad had a regular job plus a business on the side, and then my mom had her own business as well. So I think I started my first business when I was 16, 15 or 16 years old. And so it wasn't unnatural for me to start a business and just kind of figure out how to get into something. I had a photography business that was -- I was extremely busy and a lot of children. My younger years were pretty rough, I'm stubborn, and so I had to figure things out my way. But I had worked through some difficult things and had a company that was growing, and then I had two children about 18 months apart, so I ended up getting a nanny for a while, and just felt overwhelmed. The other challenge that I have is that I have an addiction to prescription drugs. And so I had worked through that in my 20s and gotten sober, and about the time that I got involved in real estate, I ended up having a back surgery and the doctor prescribed prescription drugs. And so I started using those again, and one of my challenges is that I don't just like -- when I use drugs, it's not just drugs, all of a sudden I become invincible, and I start hustling in whatever I'm doing, you know? And so I started to think, well, if I could just make more money. The real estate market in the United States at the time was just booming. I remember we built a home and the lots behind our house. The land plots had doubled in value, like in less than six months. So it was just really moving fast. And some of our neighbors were building a home as an investment to sell. And so I started out doing that and buying lots and selling them for a profit. And then I just didn't know what I was doing. But again, in our home, you just kind of figure it out as you go. So I started to borrow money to put down on lots so that I could buy more lots and flip them. And when you borrow money, not from a bank in the United States, and they may call it this as well outside of the country, but it's considered hard money. So it's really expensive. So I would go take a loan for $100,000 or $200,000 or half a million dollars. And I'm paying like a point a week. So if it's $500,000, it's $50,000 a week that you're paying an interest on that money. So it's expensive and it's designed for just short term, like to buy something that you're going to make money on and flip it. But I got stuck in a bunch of these lots. And so I remember somebody showing me a real estate deal that you could buy it, pull a cash out of it, sell the house, and just continue to up the value, so to speak on paper. And I thought, oh, I would never get involved in that. It doesn't make any sense. But I had all these lots tied up and it started looking really good for me to pull a bunch of cash out of the house. So I got involved in what we call equity deals where you would just take an extra lane against the house and borrow as much as you could, in most cases you're borrowing more than the house's worth from the bank. And so that's what got me into these illegal real estate deals with these equity deals. And at the time, I mean, I've had people ask, well, did you know what you were doing with illegal? That's a tricky question because I think I knew what I was doing was wrong. Like, I could feel it. It didn't make any sense. To me, it doesn't make sense to borrow more than something's worth. It just doesn't make sense. Did I think it was illegal? No, but did I go down this path and things got grayer and grayer and grayer? Like at first, you know, they had these, what they call home equity lines of credit that you could get without stating your, you just state your income and assets. So there's no proof required to show the money that you make. You just put it on paper. So I did those, you know, and we always mark higher than what are our income and assets where everyone was doing it, but it's illegal, you know, it's just illegal. And so those were the types of things that I was doing. And that's what the FBI came and started investigating me for, which was terrible. It was awful. I bet because it's so caring about what you were convicted of some mortgage fraud. It really caught my attention because perhaps this is really naive. I had no idea what mortgage fraud was. You know, if somebody commits murder, assault, even drink driving, for example, it's very obvious that that behavior is criminal. However, when I heard about your crime and you explaining it now, I don't think a bit of known that was illegal, which is perhaps naive of me. Yeah, it is confusing. And I've had a lot of people say, well, is that even illegal? But what I had to come to was that my integrity was lacking. I definitely was doing things that that I couldn't pay back. I was borrowing money that I couldn't pay back. It was kind of like a real estate Ponzi scheme. I mean, I think that's the simpler way to put it. I had a lot of houses under contract and then I started borrowing more and more. My defense when I was fighting with the feds was the banks are fully aware of this. Like this is just, we're all in on it. I'll send over an appraisal because that's really where the trouble lies. When you say a home is worth $2 million, but you could only sell it for a million dollars. Well, then the bank wins based on that $2 million, but the bank knows you're only paying a million. So they're actually lending you more than the house is worth. So what I was charged with was committing fraud against the bank. And my argument was, well, the bank is fully aware of it. So it's not fraud. But at the end of the day, people lost money. The whole economy took a hit and banks were involved. I was involved and I was just one person that was involved. I've had a lot of people that I know get frustrated and say, well, so many people got away with it. And the way that I see that is no one gets away with anything. You know, I just ended up in prison, but we all have to face our own integrity. And it's a lot worse for us if we aren't challenged with that and we continue on. I consider if I wouldn't have gone to prison, where would my life be? Well, my integrity may be a whole lot worse than I may have gotten involved in worse deals because I hadn't got to a place where I understood how important my own integrity is. Yeah, I think that's a great way of putting it that everybody suffers. It might just not be in the same way. So how long was this going on for and how did it conclude for you? It was the longest drawn out process. When I talk about it, I sum it up in about five minutes, but it's years. I mean, these real estate transactions started in 2004 and I wasn't indicted until 2011. And I probably started hearing I was under investigation in about 2006. The FBI showed up after my youngest daughter was born in 2007. And so I had heard they were investigating me. They were talking to title companies and other real estate people that were involved and then they were talking to my neighbors and eventually they came to our home. And it was just awful. It's just awful. You know, looking back, I wish I would have had the courage to say, yep, I made some mistakes. How can I make it right? That would have really changed the outcome for me, but I was just really scared. I was so scared. Part of me was just scared, who would I be if I go to prison? Like, how do I recover from that? Because we all know the stigma, right? I mean, I believed anyone that goes to prison is bad. I mean, I'll just be bad. I mean, it's just so silly to me because now I know a whole different view. I have a different view, but that was part of it for me and then how would my family survive without me and would my husband stay and just all the fears. And so I just kept denying it and pointing the finger. There's so many other people worse. The banks are aware of it and making excuses. But what I've learned is that the power really comes through accountability. Like, as soon as you own where you are, then you take that power back. It doesn't mean it won't be painful and you won't have to pay the consequences. I probably would have, if I would have done that when they showed up, probably would have gotten a couple of years in prison and I would have been in prison by about 2011, 2012 and been done by 2014. Instead, get drug on and I didn't walk into a courtroom until 2014 and at that point, you know, it's years. There's just such a big chunk of my life and financially we're devastated. I've spent every dime on attorneys. We have nothing. We're just really destitute at that point emotionally and every way. And then you walk into a federal courthouse. I don't know how it is in other countries, but for me, this was such a shock. To walk into a courthouse, the feeling, it's so sterile. It was shocking. I almost took my breath away to walk in because I realized like there's not an ounce. It's just very inhuman, you know. And I remember sitting there in the front of the room and looking back at my husband and my children and thinking it's going to take a long time to get back to where things are okay. Like the shock of the situation and so much sorrow. And then just the reality of where I was, which I was facing zero to seven years at this point. And the reality that the judge is going to give me the seven years. He's going to give me the maximum sentence. I think prior to that, I thought, well, you know, I don't have a criminal history and there were lots of things that I was hoping would work in my favor. But it just became very clear to me, right, when I walked in and sit down that I was going to be gone for a long time. And that was an overwhelming feeling for me. I bet it's like can't even imagine how that must have felt. I write in thinking that you have five children. I do. Yeah, I have five children there. I now have the opportunity to talk to a lot of people that have been through this process. And I've talked to grown women, women that are like tough on the rec yard in prison that told me after they were sentenced, they curled up in a ball in their cell for days and cried. This is a shock to your identity. You truly feel like it's me and my whole country against me. And I'm not saying it's not a necessary process because I have a beautiful life and I went through that process. But nonetheless, it has a major impact and there's trauma attached to it that when I got to prison, it had to be worked through. It has to be processed through because if not, it really becomes I am an enemy of the state. I am a terrible person and you wear that and that's not good for anybody, you know? It's not good for society for people to feel that way. No, definitely not. And I never really thought about that. The impact of feeling like an enemy of the state. I'd heard you say before that you were waiting for the House of Cards to tumble and that there was fear and anxiety. How long had you felt like that? Did you expect to be caught when you were committing the crime or was it much later you thought about this? I think in the beginning, I certainly didn't think I'd go to prison. I didn't think I was doing anything illegal. I had just been busy and in business. My parents were always invested in real estate, so I just kept going and going. At first, I just felt really overwhelmed and over my head because I had all of these properties and I'm trying to juggle them and I'm not sleeping. I'm trying to manage all of these things and as soon as I started getting involved in these equity deals, then I felt the burden. I felt the weight of how is this going to end? You can't borrow more than something's worth. It almost was like something good. I have to have a big win to pay all this money off. You don't want to depend on a big win in life because those things are outside your control. I started to feel a lot of anxiety and a lot of fear, but I couldn't see my way out. Looking back, wouldn't I have loved to just say, "All right, we're going to have to file bankruptcy. I have all these properties," or go to the hard money lenders and say, "We would have lost $100,000 to $200,000," which we could have recovered from. At that point in time, it didn't seem like that. It's like all we had worked for, we had worked our way up to that and it felt like it would be death if I lost that. That wasn't the case. I just kept going forward and got deeper and deeper and deeper. I did. I felt a heaviness and a burden of all of it. I think I felt freer and prison by far. From the get-go, I was relieved of that burden. I hated it. And your family, as you see, your husbands did buy you throughout your time in prison. How did it impact your family when you were being investigated? When did you start to think as a family that you could go to prison? Yeah, it was so sad, to be honest. First of all, Chad was so frustrated. My husband is pretty conservative. His parents are both school teachers. This is so outside of his box. He was just scared. He's like, "Well, worship has been successful in other ventures business wise before, so she'll figure it out." But it was way outside his box and he was depressed and felt like he couldn't do anything about it. And it was hard on our marriage. My children, it was hard for all of them in different ways. I had older children at the time and they were pretty good at just working and doing, they were teenagers. So they were, do what teenagers do, socialize. I remember a couple of experiences. I remember my son Jackson coming to me one day and saying, "Mom, I want to start a paper route." And I said, "Okay, well, what for?" And he said, "Because I want to make some money so that if you go to jail, I can bail you out of jail." And he's just so young. He didn't understand anything other than just, "I want to help my mom." And my, you know, I just looked at him and I, you know, "How do I help this kid?" The weight that they're carrying. My daughter, Sadie, after I was sentenced, later on ended up indicting my husband on a conspiracy charge. And at that point, I remember telling my daughter, Sadie, I said, "It's okay. Dad's not, you know, I had already been sentenced." I said, "Dad's not going to go to prison. It's going to be okay." And she goes, "I don't believe anything you say anymore, Mom. Everything you said didn't happen. You said, "You wouldn't go to prison. You're going to prison." And I said, "You're right. You're right." I mean, I can't imagine that fear. I just lost my mom and now my dad's facing this. Fortunately, Chad didn't go to prison and they, I mean, he had to take a felony plea, but they knew that it was me, but they just kind of indicted him on the mix to put more pressure on us, which really was frustrating. But it's part of the process and we're doing okay with it, but it was just, it was a really hard time and painful. I would say, in some ways, more painful than even when I got to prison, those years for my children. And I recognize that and I'll have people ask me, "How do you make things right with your kids?" And I say, "You'd be very patient and you show up when you say you will. You earn their trust because this wasn't just the time I was in prison. This was years leading up to it and that takes a long time for your kids to heal from." I bet. So you said when you went into the courthouse, you knew you were facing the feel saving years. How did you know that was going to be your outcome? You know, I don't know. I just, I remember setting down and I just started to cry. I just felt the weight of it. I think because I hadn't cooperated, you know, it was like, I realize now that like, it's me against them. Like, there's no mercy here. There's no, like, it won't matter. I just knew it won't matter. In fact, it was kind of surreal for me to watch the prosecutors go back. My lawyer talking and the prosecutor and I was like, "Why are they even talking? It's already fixed." Like, I knew the judge was going to give me the seven years at that point. And I did get up and I apologize just because I needed to say what I needed to say, but I knew what he was going to do. I didn't expect though, because my charge was a white color charge, I thought, well, most people in that case get time to self surrender and go to prison. But he wanted to take me into custody that day, which would have been pretty traumatic for my children because I would have been chained and shackled in front of him. And so when he said that, he said, okay, like the marshals to take her into custody today, then I said, wait a second. Why do you feel like you need to do that? I need to understand this. Like, this isn't going to help anybody. And his reason was he said, well, I want you to understand the seriousness of your situation. And I thought maybe you might take your life because this is so serious and devastating. And I was like, what is, it almost was offensive to me because I'm like, you don't know me very well. Like, I have a family to fight for. But I mean, I guess I can understand people in my situation because there are a lot of people that are so overwhelmed. I remember telling my attorney, I said, I wish I had cancer or something, you know, anything would be better than this. And she said, no, the most common thing for people is to take their life in these situations, like it's just that overwhelming. But my husband stood up and he pled with the judge. He said, please don't take her into custody today. She needs to spend time with her kids before she goes to prison, which was such a tender moment for me. And he did grant me that eight weeks. And so at that moment, I knew my husband and I would get through this experience together. And it's been a hard and beautiful experience. And we've grown so much through it, but it was tough. That was pretty tough. When I think about the fact that you were given those eight weeks, that's amazing. You got that time with your family. But equally, I think that must have been so difficult. It's almost like a death sentence in a way where you're counting down that time that you have left with them. How did you navigate those weeks? Well, it was devastating. I mean, I think I cried for three days and I think my kids laid in bed with me and we all cried, you know, just cried. I remember Monday, I got up and took my son to school and I just cried the whole way because I realized I won't be able to drive you to school anymore. Like every little thing that we did was so meaningful. I remember the last night that I spent at home, I laid there in bed with our youngest daughter. She was seven and I just cried and my husband just held me, you know, and I said, I don't know how I'm going to do this. I don't know how I can do this. I remember watching each of my children sleep and just looking at their faces and thinking, how will I make it without you? Every little tangle, every little feature of their face. I remember walking through my house and cleaning my house and thinking what a privilege it was just to clean my house and take care of my family, like to not be able to do that again, you know. I have a sister that I'm really close to who called me and she said, are you okay? And I just, I said, no, I'm not okay. And she said, Portia, they love you so much. And I said, I know they do. And she said, and you're the strongest person I know. I know you can do this. And I said, Kira, I can't do this. Like, it just felt so overwhelming to leave. In fact, my mom came to get my kids when my husband and I were driving away and she started to cry and walk away because I can't watch you say goodbye to your kids. And I said, well, you're going to have to wait because they need to hear me tell them that I love them and how important they are to me. And I remember my son, he was 12 and he was trying so hard to be brave. I will help take care of everybody, mom, I promise, you know, it was the most devastating and it got worse. Like, I get to prison and all I can see were those faces over and over. I mean, I had no idea what kind of pain people face until I walked through this. You know, I had an experience when I got to prison. All I could do was cry for days. I just cried. And I remember sitting there and this girl at a table next to me, she goes, it's okay. Just keep breathing. The pain will go away. And I remember looking at her, I had no idea who she was, but I thought there's comfort in that because obviously you've been through it too. Like, there is something on you. And she's like, just keep breathing. The pain will go away. And I just said, right, you know. Thank you. I have no idea who you are. I still don't know her name, but I mean, talk about this devastating. Oh my goodness. So heartbreaking. I cannot imagine how difficult it must have been saying goodbye and then handing yourself into the prison after those eight weeks. If you're in the courthouse and you get your sentence there and they take you, you're probably just going along with it on autopilot, not really thinking. But to actually have to hand yourself in after eight weeks at home must be really scary. Yeah. It's such a shock. It's such a shock. Even looking back, a lot of people said, why would you go? And I said, well, what was my choice? I mean, I'm not going to live my whole life running. I have children and a family. But I have people reach out to me who are going to prison who have heard, you know, I've been in prison and asked me what can I do? What can I do? And I say, there's no way I could tell you how to be prepared for this. You will hurt in ways that you can't possibly comprehend and you'll find your way forward. And really, there will be people there that will support you. There will be a sisterhood and this connection that you'll share. This is going to be a journey that I can't tell you how to walk it, but I can tell you that I found my way forward and there's a path forward through it. And a lot of it is through the sisterhood is through the connections to the love and compassion of each other because we were all we had, you know, and so, but yeah, devastatingly painful. I'm grateful. I had an experience throughout my life. I'm Christian. So, you know, I turned to God. Obviously, I get off track. I'm in prison, you know, they always talk about the jailhouse Christian or whatever. But for me, I had been in prison a few days. I spent three days in bed when I got to prison. They put you in a little isolation kind of cell with another roommate. And she kept saying, you've got to get up. You've got to get out of bed. And I said, I can't move. You know, I just cried and cried. And I said a prayer that really changed things for me. And it was actually just God. I feel like nobody to anybody. I failed everyone in my life. I am in such a deep hole. I felt my children, my husband, my children, my community. I have nothing. Please just help me know who I am to you. And I remember in that moment feeling so loved and valued and not just loved and valued, but known. And I could also see that I had an important purpose on this earth. And what I learned from that, and I can see that everyone else in that prison was so loved and valued that we were all connected. I learned that figuring out who you are is the most important part of getting through something difficult because it was very hard. But I knew what I had to fight for. I knew that. And I'm grateful for that. And I don't know why I received that understanding at my weakest place. Maybe that's just when I needed it. But it has given me a freedom of worrying about what anyone else thinks. It's really just between me and God. And that's why my personal integrity with myself. As long as I feel good about myself, whatever anyone else thinks really isn't a problem. I am delighted to let you know that CrayonCon UK returns to London on the 21st and 22nd of September 2024. If you're not sure what it is, it's the world's leading true crime event and is partnered by TrueCrayon, the expert led TrueCrayon channel. From fascinating sessions with some of the biggest names in TrueCrayon to spending time with your favourite podcasters, CrayonCon UK is an unforgettable way for you to really immerse yourself in the TrueCrayon community. I will be there so I would love it if you would come and join me and you can quote prisons for a special 10% discount on your tickets. Information about guest speakers and content contributors are being released on the CrayonCon UK social channels to keep your eyes peeled for more exciting announcements. And I really hope to see you there in September. So when you were in prison, were your family able to visit you? Were you in prison close to home? Well, no, in the federal system in the United States, I think there's only three high security federal prisons and then there's some camps, satellite camps with nothing in the state that I live in. So it was a 14-hour drive to California. My husband drops me off and I knew I wouldn't see my family. The first time I saw them was four months after he dropped me off and it was an average of once a year. And then I was transferred to another prison that was way further away. You could only get there by playing. And so that's an expense. My family can only come out once a year. And so I did a lot of my time in a higher security prison and then I did some time in a lower security at the end. But yeah, the visits, it's difficult because it's like, you want to keep that connection with your family, of course, like you want to see your kids. And in the federal system, you can only get 300 minutes a month. So that's four phone calls a week and they're 15-minute phone calls. So it's not a lot. I mean, I have five kids and a husband, like one of them gets a phone call each week. Not even that many. So that's difficult. And then the visits, I can't see them not often. But when they would come, it was so heartbreaking. It was like, on one hand, it was the most beautiful thing in the world because you connect with them, you feel like yourself. And then they leave and it just breaks you to pieces. And that was really difficult as well because it's like you have to build up this strength, I guess, to get through it one day at a time. And then they show up and it just tears you apart again. And it is the hardest thing. It really is. So you were in prison for four and a half years? Almost five. I did some time in a prison or in a county jail, but almost five years. Yeah. Okay. So how many times do you think you saw them that whole time? Maybe five or six times total. Well, I think it's amazing that your marriage has survived that. Yeah, it is a miracle that we survived that. My husband's a pretty incredible person. He really is. He's just, he's strong and committed. And I asked him, I said, you know, you could have left. It would have been easier. And he said, when we were going through all the things we were going through about a year before I was sentenced and went to prison, he really kind of wrestled with it within himself. What am I going to do? And he said, and that's when I decided I love her, I'm going to stay no matter what. And he said, it was that decision that I always fell back to. And there were a lot of people that said to him, even his own family, when I went to prison, like, you're not going to stay, are you? You need to go. You're crazy. Because it had already been so many difficult years. But I will tell you that I worked very hard in prison to be worth the wait. I really did. I worked hard on myself. And we built something that's more beautiful than anything we have before because we really trust each other and we really love each other. So it was worth it, but it was difficult. And how did you spend your time in prison? For example, what would your typical daily regime look like? Well, in high security, you're locked up and then there's every hour, there's a movement throughout the day, so you can go to the library or go to work. They call it a 10-minute move. I was pretty disciplined, so I would get up early. I had my routine, get up, pray, shower, whatever I did. And then I would go to breakfast, which is the chow-haw, usually some oatmeal or something. And then I would go walk because I just needed to be outside. And for me, that gave me peace to be in nature, which I appreciate about the federal system. You can go outside. And then usually my job, I started out working in the kitchen, but I quickly navigated into education because I liked that type of work. And so I either worked in education or reentry. And so I did a lot of reading. I mean, my days off were reading. I read out every library of every prison I went to. And I also wrote classes and I started teaching classes within the system. I wrote a photography class and then I wrote a reentry class, a goal-setting class. They gave me a year off my sentence. I had a seven-year sentence. I ended up serving close to five. And they gave me that year because I did the institution drug rehab program called ARDAAP. It's a super difficult program. Like, it's basically a conflict-type program where you call each other out. And that's hard to do in prison. You're like, "I feel this way when you threaten my life." I mean, it's very difficult. So they made me a leader in that program. And I helped teach boundaries and communication styles. And so I got some time off. But I just did everything I could. I was pretty disciplined with my time. But I also connected. I did a lot of walking, a lot of meditating, and a lot of listening. The connections that I built with these women. And I loved them. Like, some of my best friends I met in prison, they're so strong and brave in their lives. I never sat in a group of women when they would ask a question. They usually would ask if you had been sexually abused. I mean, there were three questions. Had you been physically abused, sexually abused. I can't even remember the third. But everyone raised their hand but me. Like, everyone in prison has been so abused. And so that just, I mean, I was grateful that I had support at home. And because I didn't have some of those traumas, I was able to really support people. And that gave me a lot of meaning to be able to provide that support. And did you find that a lot of women you were in prison with had mental health issues? I think I saw a start recently that said around 70% of women in prison in the UK have mental health issues, for example. Oh, yeah. The mental health crisis in prison. Yeah. dyslexia. You can't imagine how many people that were 40 and 50 years old that I was trying to teach to read, like kindergarten reading, you know, just basic reading. So it completely changed my view of everything. You know, I completely changed my view. I mean, the world will never be the same to me. And I'm so grateful for that view. My understanding of the strength it takes to live the lives that these women have lived. And I met girls that were literally pimped out by their parents when they were eight and nine years old. And they still manage to keep going through life. And they got their GED in prison and they got out and got a job. And you know, and to me, that's miraculous. That takes more strength and grit than a lot of us to go to college or anything else that have had a different upbringing. And so it just changed my whole and my whole purpose on this earth. Like, before I went to prison, money was a big thing to me. And at this point, it's just not. I got that really loud and clear. You know, I got to prison. I didn't miss one thing about money. I didn't miss food. People ask about those things. I said, who cares. All I miss were those moments with my children. That's what I miss. And I will never take that for granted again. Like, that's what's important to me now. And the line of work I work in mental health. I work with that's the type of work that I do now. And money just isn't a priority to me anymore. So absolutely. I mean, when you go through very difficult times, you realize what's actually important in life. So you said earlier that you had an addiction to prescription medication. When we're in prison, where were you on that journey? Were you sober in prison? Yeah, I've been sober from the day I walked into prison. So nine, just over nine years, I was in prison for close to five. And then I have been home five. So like, it's we're rolling up on 10 years. But yeah, I had enough time to figure out. I'm tired of suffering. I mean, there's nothing but suffering and addiction. And it scared me to come home. I thought, will I be able to stay sober? I knew I would, I wanted to stay sober. I think my prison time helped me. I needed the time for my brain and my, you know, everything to get normalized. And I immediately started going to support group meetings. I went to work in addiction treatment, mostly so that I can find meaning and that not mean they paid me less than I could have made doing other things. But then I wrote my first book, which was really cool. And I just did that because I was working with girls in drug treatment, telling them my stories about prison and they were like, we love your prison stories. So at night, I started writing an outline and I wrote the book and they were my readers, my girls in treatment, and then the girls in prison, I would send them out to them and they're like, this is so great, you know. So I did that mostly for the girls in prison and sent the book in and they loved that. And then for me, addiction, I'll die before I'll relapse. I mean, that's how serious I am about my addiction, you know, I would rather die. I am so grateful for the freedom that I feel from addiction. And how did you navigate the specialties in prison like Christmas or birthdays? I remember my second Christmas in prison. I had a really good friend that worked in education with me and she came up and gave me a hug and she said, congratulations, we made it through Christmas. And I said, I still have three more to go. I mean, it was just like overwhelming. You know, I feel like, you know, every year at Christmas, my heart got so tender. It really did because everything's gone. There's no material, anything. Maybe somebody would draw a picture of a Christmas tree and put it on their locker, but you don't have any of the frilly things that Christmas brings. But I remember sitting in Minnesota looking outside my window and there's snow outside. And my heart was so tender and I got up and I wrote letters to each of my kids and sent them to my husband. And I thought, I have nothing to give you but my heart. That's all I have. And I just want you to know how much I love you, how special you are to me. And I think the way that I dealt with those moments, my kids' birthdays was that I just reached deep into my soul and shared the most private parts of myself. So it's all I had to give. They were special, I guess, painful and special for me. How did it impact your children? Have you spoken to them a lot about their experience of you being away for five years? Because I'm guessing they reached different milestones while you were in prison. Would they have? Yeah, they did. Imagine my 12-year-old daughter, she was 12 to 17. Those are really hard years for a girl. All the things she went through without her mom, not to mention that none of her friends had parents in prison because we lived in a pretty decent community. And then financially we were devastated. So my husband's living in the basement of someone else's home trying to rebuild. So they've lost financially. Their mom is gone. Their mom was on the news. So it was really so hard. I'm so amazed and proud of my children. I got to a place where I had to just completely get so real with my kids and look at them and say, "I did this. This was me. This was not the judge. This was not the FBI. This was your mother. And you need to tell me how I hurt you." And my daughter said, "I don't want to talk to you for a long time, like years." She was so hurt. But I also knew that we were building something based on truth. And I'm so grateful that we started with the truth. Because if my children would have grown up feeling like they had been done dirty by the system, that was not going to be a good outcome for them. I think the most insightful for me was I asked my kids, I have a friend here who's in prison. I think he's serving a life sentence. And he asked me if I would talk to his children. And I said, "Sure, I'll take him to dinner." And I asked my children to come. My teenage kids because they're teenagers. And listening to my children talk to his children. My son, Jackson, he said, "Nobody cares unless they go through this." You know, he goes, "That's how I felt." He goes, "Nobody else around me would understand what I was going through." And they think, "Oh, well, your mom screwed up. She's in prison." But I would think you don't understand what it feels like. And my daughter said, "All I remember is every Christmas and every birthday, waking up in the morning and thinking, please just come home, Mom. Please just, I just want to wake up and see that you're here. I just want everything to be okay." And listening to them share that with these girls and talk about that. It was like, "Whoa, how brave are my kids to have walked through that?" And then being there to support these other kids. I wish there was just like a whole support group for all the kids going through this, you know, because we had each other in prison. We did. I mean, we set together and talked and supported each other, but how do the kids get through it? Yeah, there are so many victims. That's the thing. When somebody goes to prison, the family of the imprisoned person, they're innocent, but they're suffering too. How did it feel when you were getting close to release because those five years must have felt like a lifetime? Well, I got, yeah, I mean, it was so exciting. I got transferred to a camp and right when I got to the camp, they called me and told me I was going to come home May 7th. I was so, or May 9th. I was so excited because my son Jackson was graduating high school. I've been gone for all of his high school years. So my husband and I were emailing because you can send just a direct email to your family and we're just so excited talking to the kids. And then the prison called me in on the 7th of May and told me they were going to keep me three more months. Now, I was so physically sick when they said, and I've been in prison, so I understand it's just not going to change. I looked at her and I was there anything you can do. And she goes, no, they're not going to change it because the halfway house has only so many beds. And I was just like, oh, no, like this is the worst thing that could happen, you know. I remember going out and calling my husband and telling him and he's like, I can't keep doing this. It was just that last three months because, you know, you get to the door. It's like the countdown. I was so broken hearted over that. It took me days. I remember going to the chapel and just crying. And finally, I just, one day I got up and I said, I am not leaving prison a victim, no matter what. I have had a beautiful experience and I'm walking out of here empowered. So I'm going to take this last three months and I'm going to make the most of it. And I called my husband and I said, we're going to do this time and we're going to make it okay. And I just worked and I supported people and I read and then they called my name in August. And that was the most amazing experience because in contrast to walking into prison, you know, it's not like anyone said, welcome, we're happy you're here. Nobody did that. But when I walked out and they called my name over the intercom, I remember my, one of my really sweet friends that I had done a lot of time when she's like, I love you so much, Portia. She's like, I love you so much. She gave me a hug and she was letting me walk you out. And when I walked out, all the women on the compound came running out and cheering, we love you Miss Portia. It was the most amazing experience. My heart was so full and then I walked out and there's my husband and he's standing there with flowers. And I mean, I can't, I can't even describe what it felt like just to hold his hand, how much I love him and what that experience was like. It was so beautiful and tender and my heart was full because I love these women so much. And at the same time, I have this new adventure in front of me and I was truly free. I mean, I had done my time. I had faced myself. I had restored my integrity and I walked out of there free and so many beautiful things have come about in my life. I have had wonderful experiences with my children. I have grandchildren now that I that I adore is such a beautiful experience. You know, I started working in drug treatment and obviously I wrote, I've written two books now and I worked with this last week. I had two speaking engagements with one with a group of men that are in a diversion program that are trying to work through their stuff without going to prison. There's been another 700 people that I got to speak to about humanizing the process and it's like, who would have thought that that my life would become this. This wasn't at all what I was doing before, you know, but very difficult, but also, I wouldn't change it because of the things I learned about myself and then the love that I have for this population. What was the most difficult thing for you returning back to society? I missed it. I missed prison. I know that sounds crazy, but I missed that connection, like right away, because you are sleeping right next to people like I remember right before I came home from prison. Looking out the window in the morning. And there was a gal that was in a bunk next to me. She was a big girl. So it's hard for her to get up and get around. But she had a bunkie that was really sick. And I saw her up and she was trying to get her bunkie out. And when I say bunkie, it's like your roommate or whatever. But anyway, she was trying to help her. And I saw her out there like hobbling around in a circle saying, we gotta get you out. We gotta get you feeling better. We gotta help you, you know, gotta get out of the cell. And I looked at that and I thought, nobody would could imagine the tenderness that occurs in this place. Nobody could. Like, when I see those silly TV movies about prison and they show all these hardcore things, I'm like, that is not what I experienced. Even with the men, they are so tender and kind and will support each other. And so I missed that. I missed the tenderness. And I felt alone. I came out here. There was COVID and I have neighbors that live a long ways away and nobody's. And then I missed the complete openness. Like, we're all the same. We're all wearing the same clothes and we're all here for a crime. So let's just get real. But out here, there's like a pretense that goes on. So I missed that. And finally I got to the point and I thought, I'm just going to talk openly about my stuff because that makes me happy. And I decided, I gotta go work somewhere where I fell close to people. So that's what I missed. Was that connection? Yeah, well, you're not the first person actually to tell me that they missed prison when they leave. And how was it integrating back into family life when they were so used to you not being there for five years? It was really weird. And it took time. I mean, it was confusing. My 17 year old daughter didn't want to hear anything. I had to say, she's like, you didn't raise me. Why would I want to listen to what you have to say? When people asked me, how can I reconnect with my kids? I say, be patient. We were gone for a long time. And they went through a lot before I was gone. So I try to be humble and take what time they'll give me and listen. And then the other thing is you really have to be true to yourself too. I came home a completely different person. I mean, before I went to prison, I was buying them things and money was so important to me. And now it isn't. So there were all of those things to navigate, like how to be true to yourself and at the same time support your children and maybe support them in a different way than you have in the past and then be patient with the process. I hear girls go to drug treatment and say, oh, my kids won't talk to me. And I say, give them time. Show up. Prove yourself, you know? And that's what it's taken for me. It's just consistency with my children. I got a call the other night, a FaceTime call from my daughter. She's now 21. And she said, hey, mom, do you want to go to a movie? I can't even tell you how good that felt. Because I mean, I'm earning her trust. She doesn't live at home anymore. But for her to call me, that's a huge win for me. My husband started crying. It's like, how cute is that? So I'm grateful for all those little things with my children. They have a right to be heard. And I'm grateful they're giving me the chance to make those things right. What was the first night like for you coming home? Because that must have been a very surreal experience. Oh, yeah, because the sounds and it was so quiet, right? Because you're sleeping in a great big... Everything echoes. You get used to the sound. And so I'm tippy-tippy-towing through the house. And I think I go to use the restroom and just to flush the toilet. All of a sudden, I think I just woke the whole house up. Like, it just was so quiet. I just felt awkward. Man, it was difficult. I think it's important. I got involved in support groups as soon as I got home so that I could talk about the things that I was feeling. And I mean, I'm so fortunate. I had a husband that was really supportive and parents that were supportive. And I know that because most people in prison don't have those things. But it just took time. It took time. In your experience, do you think prison works? I know that's a very vague question, but how do you interpret that from your experience? Do you think it works? Here's what I think. I think that people in prison are amazing. People ask me if there's... Are there good people in prison? Absolutely. Well, then why are they in prison? I said, "There's good and bad people in prison and there's good and bad people out here. There's not one ounce of difference." You know? I believe in the people in prison to change their lives. I don't believe in the system. The system's not going to come up with a way to fix anybody. It's going to be ourselves. And that's what I experienced was prison worked for me because of who I am and how committed I was to change in my life. And it wasn't just me. There were so many women that prison worked for because it can be a safe place to rest from the struggles of the world. I mean, I had a teacher in prison who I worked for. I really admired her. She said, "It's so hard to see these women go knowing what they're going back to here. We can keep them safe." And so I think that prison can be that moment of safety where you can work on yourself. That being said, there's lots of things in prison that aren't working. There's lots of... You know, I don't have the solution, but I do believe that the people in prison will have the solution. There were lots of us that were doing, like you say, we wrote classes and taught each... Like, I believe in us. And I guess I'm grateful that I went to prison. I don't know if it works for everybody, but I'm grateful I went to prison. And I have some really close friends that their lives are so much better because of prison. Okay, final question. What's one thing you'd like to leave listeners with about prison or prisoners that they might not know? I want your listeners to know that they can make a difference just in the way they see us. I got this moment of clarity when I was in prison and I came to this realization that the best thing for me was to believe that the world was cheering me on. And I started to believe that and it changed me. I fought for that. I fought to become a better person because I thought everybody wants me to succeed. And I would say that to people in prison, I'd say, everyone out there wants us to succeed. We have to keep fighting. What I want to tell people that haven't been to prison is you can make such a difference if you can just see the humanity of what people are going through. If you can believe in them and know that people can come out of prison and be incredible employees and mothers and fathers, they can become the best version of themselves. And most of the women I met in prison had parents that have been in prison, grandparents that have been in prison, it's generational. And they want to learn how to do something different. They really do. And so I would say believe in the people as they come out, believe that there are people in there that are incredible human beings. And we're worth fighting for. We're worth believing in. And your belief in us will make a difference. And I've experienced that. People have supported me. I come from a supportive community and family and they have believed in me. And I have risen to that. I've risen to what people see in me. So see the best in us because we will rise to it. And that's what I would say to. Portia, this has been such a beautiful and moving conversation. Thank you so much for coming on and being so honest and sharing your experiences with us. I am really grateful to you. Thank you for having me. It's a great conversation to have this morning. So. I hope you enjoyed this conversation. If you want to listen to monthly bonus episodes, you can subscribe for only $3 per month by hitting the link in the show notes. And I'd be so grateful if you'd quickly rate the podcast on whatever platform you listen. It only takes a second and it helps more people to find the show. [MUSIC] (gentle music)
