Years ago, while in county lockup, I came across a Dylan Thomas poem I didn\u2019t fully understand. It read: \u201cDo not go gentle into that good night\u2026 Rage, rage against the dying of the light.\u201d<\/p>\n
I liked the rhythm and the urgency of it. But I didn\u2019t yet know what it meant to rage from within the belly of the beast.<\/p>\n
I would learn soon enough.<\/p>\n
When education isn\u2019t enough<\/h2>\n
I began studying law while in solitary confinement at the Hudson County Correctional Center in Kearny, New Jersey. At 25, I was educated, street-smart, well-travelled, well-read, and owned and ran a successful business selling phones and laptops. And still, I couldn\u2019t follow the jargon in court. It sounded like a strange language that everyone else spoke fluently. I asked my lawyers some questions, but I didn\u2019t press. I was new. I trusted them.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s a mistake that still haunts me. If I\u2019d known what I now know, I would have insisted on different strategies in court to fight my case. Had I done so, I don\u2019t believe I would have been handed two consecutive life sentences \u2013 150 years in prison.<\/p>\n
You see, the system wants you to sit down, shut up, and comply. But every misstep is hung around your neck like a noose. And when your lawyer fails you, if you try to appeal, the court\u2019s starting point is \u201csound trial strategy\u201d, meaning they believe the defence lawyer did their job well to begin with.<\/p>\n
Into the law library: No saviours, just strategy<\/h2>\n
When I got to New Jersey State Prison (NJSP) in Trenton in 2005, an older prisoner told me, \u201cYour job is to stay out of trouble, live, and fight for your life. There are no saviours. Get to the law library and learn.\u201d<\/p>\n
So I joined the Inmate Legal Association (ILA), a prisoner-run paralegal group. They trained me, and I became an uncertified paralegal.<\/p>\n
Soon after joining the ILA, I started my own legal fight and began helping others. My first victory was a procedural motion that helped a fellow inmate get back to court. That memory still sits like a trophy in my mind. Helping someone else made the struggle worth it.<\/p>\n
Another win came in the federal habeas court, where I wanted to challenge my conviction. My petition was dismissed. But I appealed. I trusted my research. I filed. And I won. The result didn\u2019t stick, and the petition was later denied. But the short-lived victory meant something: we can push back.<\/p>\n This is the life of a pro se litigant \u2014 pro se means \u201cfor oneself\u201d in Latin \u2014 someone who represents themselves in court. Serving as your own legal counsel is rarely a choice; more often, it\u2019s a necessity. I hired my own attorney, and the state assigned a second lawyer for my trial and initial appeals. After that, I was on my own. I couldn\u2019t afford further legal representation. And I\u2019m far from alone.<\/p>\n Imprisoned people file tens of thousands of pro se motions every year. US court data from 2000-2019 shows that 91 percent of legal challenges by prisoners were filed pro se.<\/p>\n This is not new. A Bureau of Justice Statistics report from the mid-1990s showed that 93 percent of federal habeas corpus petitions filed by state prisoners then were also pro se.<\/p>\n These numbers confirm what we see inside: legal representation ends after pretty much the first appeal, and beyond that, we\u2019re on our own, with no training, limited resources, and overwhelming barriers.<\/p>\n Take Martin Robles, a 52-year-old Puerto Rican who\u2019s spent nearly 30 years behind bars. Once he no longer had appointed counsel, Martin took charge of his appeals. \u201cThe courts don\u2019t follow their own rules,\u201d he told me. \u201cThey don\u2019t hold prosecutors accountable like they do us. We\u2019re time-barred (and appeals are denied) \u2014 for being an hour late. But prosecutors? They get unlimited leeway.\u201d<\/p>\n The courts don\u2019t care about the difficulties prisoners endure to communicate with paralegals or to research case law to prepare legal briefs. Access to the law library to do all this is curtailed. We have to request a pass to visit during our housing unit\u2019s weekly rotation, but the passes are limited, and sometimes we wait weeks to enter the library. Courts routinely impose deadlines on prisoners that are also impossible to meet, yet fail to give any latitude for prison constraints. One friend, for example, was given a month to file a legal brief but wasn\u2019t allowed in the prison library during this time as he had a cast on his arm, and this was considered a possible weapon. But without access to the library, he could not get help from paralegals, consult legal reference books, or use the computers to type his brief. The deadline passed, and he wrote to the judge about his plight, but was not given an extension.<\/p>\n Martin has turned his outrage into something productive. \u201cI\u2019m starting the first Spanish-language law class at NJSP,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s voluntary. I\u2019m doing it for the people. I\u2019m tired of them being taken advantage of.\u201d<\/p>\n Kashif Hassan, 39, entered the system with a master\u2019s degree and hired private attorneys. \u201cI threw money at lawyers, and thought I was good,\u201d he said. \u201cBut I got manipulated and railroaded. I didn\u2019t fight early enough.\u201d<\/p>\n Eventually, Kashif picked up legal texts and took charge of his future. \u201cMy first win was a bail motion in the county [jail],\u201d he said.<\/p>\n \u201cIf you don\u2019t fight, no one else will. Pro se litigation works if you know what you\u2019re doing. But courts treat us like amateurs. Like we don\u2019t count.\u201d<\/p>\n Tommy Koskovich, 47, was arrested while in high school. \u201cMy attorney mocked me,\u201d he recalled. \u201cSaid he wasn\u2019t getting paid enough by the Public Defender\u2019s Office, so he didn\u2019t prepare a defence. When I refused the plea deal, he said, \u2018I didn\u2019t prepare a defence for you.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n Tommy has subsequently lost all his appeals, but he is now pursuing his only remaining options: a motion to overturn his sentence and clemency. He has also applied for the latter through New Jersey\u2019s new Clemency Initiative.<\/p>\n Throughout the process, Tommy has learned to identify legal issues. \u201cSometimes courts only take your issue seriously after you file pro se,\u201d he said. \u201cThat\u2019s how State v Comer happened, where an inmate raised the issue himself.\u201d<\/p>\n James Comer was 17 when he was convicted of a felony murder and other offences after carrying out several armed robberies with two others in the year 2000. He was sentenced to prison until the age of 85. He likely would have died in jail, but he took his fight with his lawyers to the New Jersey Supreme Court and was resentenced. He was freed in October after serving 25 years.<\/p>\n Martin, Kashif and Tommy reflect what many of us behind the wall already know: the system isn\u2019t built for justice \u2013 it\u2019s built for conviction. The moment your initial appeals end, you\u2019re on your own.<\/p>\n Every mistake you make is punished. Every misstep is used to shut the door tighter.<\/p>\n Still, we fight. We write in broken chairs under flickering lights. We teach others how to file motions, navigate case law, and decode legal jargon.<\/p>\n As for me, I\u2019m working on a motion for DNA testing to prove my innocence and an alternative motion to vacate my sentence. But a few cases are pending in the New Jersey Supreme Court that could help my case, so I\u2019m waiting on their outcomes.<\/p>\n Because we do not go silent. Rage, after all, is hope in motion.<\/p>\n This is the first story in a three-part series on how prisoners are taking on the US justice system through law, prison hustles and hard-won education.<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n<\/div>\n Years ago, while in county lockup, I came across a Dylan Thomas poem I didn\u2019t fully understand. It read: \u201cDo not go gentle into that good night\u2026 Rage, rage against the dying of the light.\u201d I liked the rhythm and the urgency of it. But I didn\u2019t yet know what it meant to rage from […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3920,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3919","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-us-canada-news"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inernews.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3919","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inernews.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inernews.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inernews.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inernews.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3919"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/inernews.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3919\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inernews.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/3920"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inernews.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3919"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inernews.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3919"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inernews.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3919"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}![\"Prison](\"https:\/\/www.aljazeera.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/11\/Scanned_20251002_212050-1-1759830913-1-1762852879.jpg?w=770&resize=770%2C591&quality=80\")
Hidden resistance behind bars<\/h2>\n
Voices from the legal underground<\/h2>\n
When money can\u2019t buy protection<\/h2>\n
A lawyer who didn\u2019t prepare a defence<\/h2>\n
The legal fight is also a moral one<\/h2>\n
We do not go gentle into that good night.
We rage \u2013 against wrongful convictions, indifferent courts, and a system that hopes we\u2019ll give up.
We rage, even when no one is watching.
Even when no one believes.
Even when the victories are small.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"