Hello, my name is Cortez Donald Shisler. I grant you permission to use my story, share my words with anyone who will listen.

“I’ve never tryed to write this but this will make for a very interesting read. Here is my truth.

 

I was born on the 23rd of Dec. 1982, I am the oldest of 3. We grew up in a single parent household. My mother was hardworking but abusive, giving woop’ins for things I didnt understand; I was a child. This was the start of me storing anger!

My mother was forced to work long hours to provide for us, meaning me & my brothers was with a babysitter. I was sexually molested by both men & women when at the babysitter house for years. This torments still & even shook my faith, “I was a child” (I stored more anger & it started to blossom to hate … but for what?)

As I got older no more babysitter, I watched after my brother. At this time I was around 8 or 9 when I started to notice my mother was what most people consider to be a functional addict. I started to work to buy food. My grandmother worked at a cleaner’s by my school. I would ask to go to the bathroom & leave at 1:30 pm everyday from elementary school to be paid $20.00 under the table.

I somehow made it to middle school because Detroit Public Schools go by age, “not grades”. I miss 6 months of school straight working, or I would get kicked out on propose.

All this made me hate my mother and her male friends, I was very vocal & had build up an resistance to being “Beat”, I wouldn’t even cry no more. She lost control of me. I had no respect for her, so she took the roof from over my head. I remember walking the streets of the east side of Detroit thinking how much a relief it was to be on my own.

I found myself couch surfing from family member to family members house, all the while getting a sense of being unwanted, unloved. This sparked more pain, more anger.

I stopped going to school altogether when I made it to high school because I could not read or write in the 9th grade. I did keep a job & started to sell drugs. The streets had me, I was the double up kings…. I would buy guns … I started having sex & had a son. I got my own house at 16 in Southwest Detroit. My “Baby Mamma” stated with me. She worked too but I went on to be a full time street pharmacist. Me & her fought so much because we struggled to get by, eventually this ripped us a part and she went home to her family, leaving her alone ….

(more pain, more anger)

I went back to couch surfing, back to working real jobs. Now, I had to pay to stay on the couch. My “Baby Mamma” filed for child support. The test came back 99.9% …. “negative”... My son, is not my own. She did not know who the father was, so me being fatherless I stayed as a acting parent. The Baby Mother this time had another child, “a girl,” she was my own & is beautiful.

So, that’s a back story.

On June 19, 2003, a murder happened I was there and in Michigan you do not have to tbe the shooter, aiding & abidding holds the same time life. The shooter was let out & I was found guilty and was sentenced to natural life. “I didn’t help or want this to happen” …. “I did not pull the trigger” …. Life! Death by clock… (More pain, more anger)

“Michigan does not have the death penalty”, “Yea right” ….

(Case #04-0837-01) People v. Cortez Shisler

I find myself in the M.D.O.C. … “Prison” … Its nothing you think of or what is depicted on T.V…. I was ripped off the streets, sold 13 inch T.V. for $175.00, a J-P5 for $20.00 (which has video games, & music), store every 2 weeks. The food is horrible in chow hall. Coming in I still couldn’t read ^ write it was then I noticed most of my family is illiterate. The only line of communication was the phone.

So, the M.D.O.C. must get money for prisoners going to school because they force prisoners to sit in room for hours, no books, no talking. I told them I was ready for the G.E.D. It’s multiable choice so, guessing, I got enough right to “pass.” I still couldn’t read & write, I just watched cable T.V. all day. I got a job in here but working helps keep me in prison & they only pay $.17 a hour. (Modern day slavery!)

There is no reform in here…. A woman never gave up on me and continued to write. I had a cellmate that taught me how to read and my desire to communicate push me to learn fast. This helped save this relationship.

So, through this one relationship, I gained a real family, I now have the much needed support I always craved.

I found out I had so much talent but I love cooking & cutting hair. My hobby is playing chess. Im a natural. I feel that by being self taught it allows me to develop my own strategies & makes my style of play better. I am reading self help books now T.D Jakes - Loose that Man & Let Him Go! & Joyce Meyer - Battle field of the Mind. It’s funny but I dream of being a husband, a father (I am a father but being there every day of their life), being a home owner with a apple tree in the back yard. I have a idea for a small business to provide a service that is not offered.

“My apologies!” You want to know about solitary confinement…. I’ve been in segregation many times & Im in segregation right now, I came 3/10/20 …. Today’s date is 9/14/20…. Over 6 months its Hell … We get 1-15 min call a week, J-pay mail only get printed 3 times, & U.S. mail that is not legal takes weeks. We get 45 min to 1 hour in a little kennel. Its impossible to practice social distancing, as the kennel’s are next to one another tightly. When in the cell they keep the fan on so we can’t hear one anothere. We have o way to occupy our time. This is psychological torture to say the lest. I’ve been walked on a leash for 6 months … I feel like a animal. I am tormented by hunger pains, they sell us nothing to eat on commissary, but cough drops (3 bags every 2 weeks), no vitamins at all… I really am trying to fix myself by Im force to endure more hardships. The facility will lie & blame it on the fact there is no transfers so I must wait, but they transfer prisoners so they lie. (more pain, more anger)

I’ve loss over 20 pounds. They allow us to have T.V.’s but they don’t work.

I feel helpless, voiceless … It’s nothing no one can do to help us. Its so much more (they knowingly served spoiled milk - I filed a grievance - that didn’t get me a milk.) All kind of things are happening to prisoners in what is known as the steam boat … Why do you think they call it that? Yea, it’s a sick joke.

Well, I’m going to end his if its more you need to know or just want to reach back please feel free. Please put the address in the letter or J-pay …

Thank you for your time & What-ever helps

Cortez D. Shisler