Former gang member inspires inmates to succeed

The Godfather, Scarface, Goodfellas. Legendary films like these depict an often sensationalized portrayal of the exciting and powerful lives of mobsters, gangsters and kingpins. But for former gang member, Rob Papin, thug-life was anything but glamorous.
"You see people getting stabbed and junkies shooting up. I thought that's what being Aboriginal was about," Papin said, during a telephone interview from his office at the Stan Daniels Healing Centre in downtown Edmonton.
Papin, 36, has broken clean from gang activity for nearly 15 years. The Enoch Cree First Nation man has been working out of the Centre as the facilitator for gang prevention program since its inception in June and says his "tough love" approach is how he gets through to inmates.
"You can cover your tattoos, you can cover everything," said Papin, "but it's the mentality that's hardest to break."
Guidance from Elders, forensic psychologists and Papin are proving successful in the break down of some of Alberta's Aboriginal prison gangs.
While the program is still in its early stages, Papin said he has already seen some high-ranking gang members give up their colors and turn their lives around. Papin said to leave a gang inside prison is risky, but the program keeps it all pretty low-key.
The surprising thing about gangs and prison is that while many inmates become gang members outside the penitentiary walls, several join while serving time. Although the lure of power and notoriety undoubtedly entice inmates to join gangs, Papin said a majority become affiliated for the sake of protection. "They have to [join] for survival. Either that or they get put in unfortunate circumstances with rapists and child molesters," he said.
Conrad Johnson, or 'CJ' as he is known at the centre, is serving a life-sentence for first degree murder in the drive-by shooting he committed at the age of 15. Now 27, the Cree man from Manitoba has spent his youth jumping from penitentiary to penitentiary working and living the system. For Johnson, the issue of joining a gang was not a choice; it just was how people interacted in his community.
"Everyone around us was living in poverty," Johnson said. "Because you're relating with other kids and going through the same things, the media says you're a gang, so you become a gang."
Johnson was 11-years-old when his life of crime began. Growing up in an area known as "Central", in Winnipeg, he witnessed family members involved in illegal activities and substance abuse.
At 13, Johnson was sent to a youth detention centre, where he spent 18 months. By 15, the young man was tried as an adult for murder and sentenced to a maximum security prison. That was 12 years ago. Since then, Johnson has worked his way down from maximum to minimum security status.
A grade 6 school drop out, he has taken some courses while in prison and his somewhat soft spoken voice raises when he talks about working on rap music-his passion.
By all accounts, Johnson has all the hopes and dreams of anyone his age. But while he may be working toward a different life, Johnson's past will always haunt him. His life sentence and convicted murderer status won't ever go away.
Claire Carefoot, director at the Stan Daniels Healing Centre says that while all inmates need some form of rehabilitation, First Nations men are especially vulnerable to gang affiliation and desperately need specialized services to help their potential integration back into society.
"Aboriginal gangs are growing and someone has to do something about it," Carefoot said.
Carefoot is passionate about helping Aboriginal men return to their families and communities in a healthy way.
She accredits dysfunction in the lives of these men to history of abuse and racism against First Nations people and says prejudice where there should be justice is to blame.
"I feel that Aboriginal men have been unfairly treated in the justice system from the beginning," Carefoot said.
Currently, 55 inmates call the Healing Centre home- 85 per cent of them are First Nations.
The 2001 Statistics Canada report states that while Aboriginal people make up three per cent of the Nations total population , Native males make up 22 per cent of the total prison population. Broken down by province, Saskatchewan Aboriginal adults are incarcerated 35 times the rate of non-Aboriginal's and make up 77 per cent of the total prison population.

Aboriginal inmates are also over represented in Yukon and Manitoba facilities, making up 74 per cent and 70 per cent of the prison population.
In Alberta, where Aboriginal people make up four per cent of the total population, 38 per cent are residing in penitentiaries. British Columbia and Ontario prisons have the fewest number of Aboriginal inmates, with 20 per cent and nine per cent representation. (Juristat, Statistics Canada 2004/05).
The Healing Centre is a minimum security correctional institute and is affiliated with and funded by the Correction Services of Canada (CSC) under section 81- which is an agreement with the federal government for the provision of Aboriginal correctional services.
The operation of urban and rural-based facilities designed for Aboriginal offenders on conditional release is also listed under Section 81 of the CSC.
Inmates from nearby federal facilities, such as the medium security Drumheller penitentiary in Alberta, are able to relocate to the Healing Centre under very specific guidelines. Transferring inmates must fall under the category of being a minimum security prisoner. There is a zero tolerance for drugs and alcohol at the centre and inmates must relinquish any and all gang ties.
Once at the centre, inmates are encouraged to participate in workshops and seminars on everything from proper parenting and establishing healthy relationships to a computer refurbishing program, where old computers are fixed and donated back into the community.
Substance abuse meetings, such as alcoholics anomonyous, are also offered at the centre and inmates are encouraged to participate in cultural activities, such as sweat lodges.
Rob Papin emphasizes the important role relationships play in the lives of these gang members.
"There is a sort of strength in numbers and the underlying need to belong and be a part of something is huge- even when that something is destructive," he said.
Papin tells Sweetgrass that while the guys may seem tough, in jail, everybody is a pawn in someone else's game. He also said it's not only men's relationships with other men or their families that's often dysfunctional, but these men's relationships with their girlfriends that also feeds the hype.
Girlfriends of gang members are often too insecure themselves to see they are being used.
"There's no glamour in it," Papin said, in reference to the young girls attracted to gangs. "You're going to be a junkie pushing the shopping cart down the street. You used to be a glamour queen and now you're a drama queen."
As well as praising the various workshops the centre offers, real growth for these men has been seen through their participation in activities focused on First Nations spirituality and healing.
Claire Carefoot is an advocate for the importance of culture in the lives of these men and she says the inmate's rehabilitation and integration process has a lot to do with participation in spiritually-based programs.
"They grew up ashamed of being Indians because they weren't connected to their culture," Carefoot said.
She also said she has witnessed the effect culture-based programs have had on inmates and "the way they connect with the Elders in the program is important."
"I am convinced that Aboriginal men coming out of prison need a connection with their Elders and their culture. And, if they do that, I firmly believe they will not go back to prison," said Carefoot.
The Healing Centre accepts prisoners in various stages of sentences. From day parole, to probation, to conditional sentencing to life imprisonment. Carefoot said she has seen many inmates come and go in her 15 years of corrections work. Recently, Carefoot moved an elderly inmate into a retirement home after spending a few years at the centre. The man found it very difficult to transition into a society foreign to him. The man had spent 56 years behind bars.
Johnson, who was once a gang leader, has now turned his back on the gang life.
When asked why he thinks people join prison gangs, his reply has more to do with fragility than power.
"Some are intimidated, some are weak. They can't really stand on their own two feet as a man." "What is 'gangster' is to pay your bills and take care of your family," he said.
For Johnson, it's simply a matter of choice; "either you are going to die in prison, or you're going to live your life."