My Life Back Movement: Much More Than a Book

By Shane W. Kervin

Not to disrespect the many great works of art in books by authors for centuries, but other than the Bible for those who believe, never in my lifetime have I ever seen or read a more powerful life-changing tool. This work of art specializes in using easy ways to remember what you’ve learned. This book, which is much, much more, brings to light the darkness that has blinded the eyes of the masses for centuries. It exposes the broken human, the money racket that AFFECTS US ALL, and YOU AS WELL! The goal is to bring about awareness and present real rehabilitation that can and will change the lives of anyone held captive, not knowing their true purpose in life, from the inmate to the depressed, from the gluttonous to those plagued by chaos, anger, or anything else that has been given power over the hearts and minds of men and women since the beginning of time! THIS BOOK IS A MUST-READ!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Feb 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781646288328

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My Life Back Movement

Much More Than a Book

Shane W. Kervin

Copyright © 2020 Shane W. Kervin

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2020

ISBN 978-1-64628-831-1 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-64628-832-8 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Affidavit of Necessary Cause: M.L.B.M

The My Life Back Movement

M.L.B.M

M.L.B.M’S

My Time with Roland

T☆U☆F☆F T☆R☆U☆T☆H

M.L.B.M

The M.L.B.M

M.L.B.M’s Too-Old List

The M.L.B.M Living Letters Alphabet

M.L.B.M’s Star Acronyms

M.L.B.M’s Star Acronyms Defined

I Saw a Woman

You Are Not Less Than

My Goodbye to Drugs Letter

Special Thanks

I was born with a hole in my heart and with no soft spot on my head. I was molested twice, prior to reaching age six, by a male babysitter. I grew up in poverty to the extent that every morning, when I turned on the lights to get up for school as a kid, roaches would scatter. I was quickly labeled as hyperactive and placed in a resource class and never properly diagnosed until I had lost my family and hit rock bottom. I self-medicated with whatever I could get my hands on, from cough medicine, two bottles at a time, to heroin. I’ve been in and out of the Department of Corrections or Devil’s Operation Camp (D☆O☆C) most of my life. I was even stabbed in the leg, throat, and stomach and have been hit by a car while walking. I even tried to take my own life on several occasions, from drinking Brasso (belt buckle cleaner) to cutting my own throat and arms twice. In the most recent act, I was lying on the floor of the county jail, next to a toilet, as both beds were already taken. I was going through withdrawals from not having my proper medication and the mental anguish of being in an overcrowded cell, I cut my throat and above my wrist twice. I was getting coached and cheered on by my cellmates until my blood was flowing like a fountain from an open veins in my throat and arm until one of the cheerleaders snitched me out. This caused the jail to call an ambulance, which took me to the hospital. Once there, I was given seven stitches in my neck and twenty-two staples in my arm. Looking back, even now, I have come to believe that God has a plan for my life as he does for yours, and for that, I am truly thankful.

When I was about five or six, while my grandparents were at the bar in Manhattan, NY, I walked into a caucasian lady’s bar prior to her opening and she gave me milk. I started going to see her like a stray dog does after you feed it once. I’m not sure that I ever knew her name, but with all of who I am at this time, I say, Thank you, Ma’am. May you forever rest in peace.

I forget the exact age I was when I was in foster care, but I will never forget how the lady loved me while I was there. I am thankful and also remember that she had a girl that was several years older than me. The mother was often mean to her, as I remember, and no matter what, that girl was always nice to me and treated me like a baby brother. For that, at this time, I would like to say, Thank you, Sis. I even hope maybe I can see you again in person one day.

When I lived in Connecticut, attempting to be a kid and make it through school, while in the seventh grade I remember my teacher Mrs. Cheryl C. Multiple Sclerosis (MS) was slowly overtaking her, but she always brought in hot cinnamon candy and Wheat Thins; she had no problem sharing. She, no matter how her physical condition worsened, was always kind to all of us. She even brought me a plastic car model and let me work on it in class. Of course, my lack of any ability to sit still would not let me finish it, but man, I will always love you, Cheryl. Thank you and may I see you again, whether in this side of eternity or in the next.

My seventh-grade to eighth-grade teacher working alongside Mrs. Cheryl C., Mrs. Lank, spent a lot of time with me one-on-one trying to improve my living conditions at that time. I was in the care of my grandmother, who was running a crack house while her husband was out on the road driving tractor trailers. One day, Mr. and Mrs. Lank came by, picked me up, and took me shopping. Man, I must have worn that jean jacket with the warm, comfortable wool in it for at least a year longer than size called for, as the sleeves grew shorter and my wrists became exposed more and more! They have both taken me in on more than one occasion. Even when my first son Andrew was born, Linda sent me $200. She was like the mother I never had growing up. Before I go any further, I will say for the record, my biological mother did love me, but to be fair she was just as nuts as I am. To be honest, our whole family, if that’s what you want to call it, was dysfunctional. I love her and am not wishing to offend, as she is the womb from which I entered this world, so for that, I thank you too, Mom.

When I was older I moved to North Carolina to live with my mother and stepfather. I left after having a fight and my ninth-grade teacher and his wife took me in. I, of course, will always be grateful as Mr. Costner had breakfast for me morning after morning. He had actually circled ads in the paper for me to call for work. He took me to get my driver’s license and even let me use both his red Camaro and his blue Jeep to go out and learn a bit about being responsible, going to and from work, and to and from a friend’s house from time to time. They treated me as one of their own. Mr. Costner was a professing Christian, this was his way of Living what he claimed to be. Guys! I know I will see you again. Until then, thank you both from the bottom of my heart. Each and every person helping me to get my life back gives me the strength and will to create and continue a movement that can and will last for as long as someone is in need of it!

To my beloved Auntie Brenda, who even blamed herself for not taking me out of the drug house her mother was running, I just thank you for being you. To the son you lost, my beloved cousin Byron, My Life Back Movement (M☆L☆B☆M) is for you bro! Rebirth In Progress (R☆I☆P).

I will never forget 2001. I went into a convenience store demanding money from the clerk, Mr. Tussman, with nothing in my jacket but empty hands and empty threats on how he had better give me the money or get shot. After those death threats towards him he literally said, I love you, brother, but I can’t give you the money. I left never obtaining a dime, but I knew this never-ending cycle of being addicted to self-destruction had to stop. I was essentially living so I could get high and getting high so I could live! I then got a side job working construction and had planned to save money and then turn myself in, having a warrant for my arrest because of my failed attempt at robbing the convenience store.

I started to attend the United Methodist church in Brookston, Indiana. While attending there, a man named Jerry asked me what I was doing for Christmas. When I said I was doing nothing, he invited me into his home with his beautiful family, consisting of his wife, two boys, and three girls. Learning of my being homeless and having a warrant, they treated me like family, and I stayed with them for several weeks until I was ready to turn myself in. So, to the family who took me in as I was, to the children who were so kind to me, with all of my being, to the Edwards family, I lovingly thank you. I will never forget your kindness.

It would be another felony for me to forget the friends in the Woodcock family I have grown to love as well. Chris has been a strong support in helping me get housed. Her husband, Mr. L Woodcock, helped me by letting me drive his pickup truck to work odd jobs with him. Then, on the way home, he would fill up both gas tanks on the truck for me so I could leave with his truck, without even a single question. Mr. and Mrs. Woodcock, from the very soul of my being, I say to you both, thank you.

There are many others, but only so few I can mention as time will allow.

First and foremost let me say, even as I write this in prison, the only reason I haven’t resorted to another razor to the neck is single handedly, because of the greatest people I have ever met in my life, Mrs. McMindes, and of course her husband Jerry. Who always gifted me with an endless supply of unconditional love.

Just now, March 4, 2015, as I was thanking Mr. and Mrs. McMindes, I have found out my order for my new tv and shoes has just arrived today! My God am I thankful! Those two are the reason I had hygiene, commissary for letters, some food, and assorted extras, for over 6 years. Since 2002, during a time when I was still in and out of jail, they never gave up on me. I pray this movement reflects the love that all of you have shown to me.

Shane W. Kervin

___________________

June 11, 1973

Forever We Live!

Affidavit of Necessary Cause: M.L.B.M

A Voice as a Catalyst for Change by Me, to Me, through Me

Had I died yesterday, I will admit that I would have died a complete and utter failure. I accept full responsibility for that. I have struggled with ADHD, generalized anxiety disorder, manic depression, and drug addiction to the extent that I have been in and out of jails, prisons, homeless shelters, and mental institutions most of my life. This path I was on created such a growing gap between the mother of my children, the children themselves, my mother, my sisters, my friends, etc., that finding our way back to one another again would be nearly impossible, if not hopeless.

Unfortunately much of society has been shown the process of the judicial system in regards to ‘criminals’ to be necessary and just. Nothing could be further from the truth. As I have said before, I make no excuses for my actions leading to incarceration. However, I honestly and truly do wish that I had been thrown into a system that cared about my rehabilitation, as opposed to simply profiting off of my being there. In all my wasted life, one good thing happened to me. I met the mother of my children. I was supposed to raise them with her. Until this day, I love them with all my soul. Never having a father, I never knew how to be one. Having been raised in and out of insane dysfunction, I acted on what I knew and gave up everything for drugs, self-destructive behaviors, and lunacy.

Call it God, epiphany, growing up, or whatever, but my last experience in prison caused my soul to cry out with rage for the injustice of the supposedly just, and from that, My Life Back Movement (M☆L☆B☆M) was birthed. If you look at my criminal record from good old Indiana, I am the leader of the bad guys. However, if you look at it on a case-by-case basis, you will see an extremely sinister money racket. Unable to be paid, I got the short end of the stick, regardless of the fact that I wanted true rehabilitation. I needed to get my family back in time to repay the woman I watched birth two beautiful children and to at least take some part of their lives.

In 2008, the police used a crack-head prostitute who claimed that I was a drug dealer to entrap me and watch me get a thirty-year sentence for less than one gram of crack in which the following happened:

The undercover cops called me twice, the first time I told them NO!

The second time, the officer asked and said the drugs were for Nikki, the prostitute that I wanted to have sex with.

I had not hung around the drug scene for several months at that time and needed a ride to get to a housing complex that I once lived, so I was driven to the place by the cop. I even got lost, and he asked me where I was trying to go. When I told him, he said, I know how to get there and took over the navigation.

Being that I was on SSI for being mentally disabled and not having any money, the cop gave me $100 to buy him the drugs.

After some searching I ended up at a third apartment where I knew someone who might be able to find some. She had to call a drug dealer, and when he came, I gave him the entire $100. He gave the lady a piece of the drug and I brought the rest to the undercover officer.

The officer watched the actual drug dealer come and go with all the money. He knew I got nothing out of it. The officer asked me to be the middleman, not once, but twice. All I asked for was a few dollars as I had let him know I don’t get high anymore. For all of that twisted mess, I was arrested and received a thirty-year sentence.

When I was stabbed in the neck, leg, side, and back, the assailant was given probation. In prison, I found that most child molesters got less time than what I was given. Having been molested twice by a male babysitter, my guess is that had he been caught, he too would have gotten less time than I. As I said, I accept full responsibility for my actions, but to be punished in a way in which most of my best years were taken is beyond cruel. Still to this day I have not had one member of the Devil’s Operation Camp give a damn about me or how bad I wanted my life back. Had the cops not setup the entire buy from start to finish, I would have gone about my business, training for a boxing match, not even thinking about the drugs. That’s entrapment. I affirm, who under penalties of perjury, these statements to be true to the best of my knowledge and belief.

The My Life Back Movement

To Bring About Awareness and Present Rehabilitation

That Actually Works

Our Full-Pledge Daily Creed

My name is (______). In time past, I walked in ignorance, pride, and shame. Today I know, live, love, and teach life.

I cannot change my past, but I will forever be remorseful for any pain that I have caused.

Where I can make amends, I will do my part.

My focus is on my future, not where I must start.

From this day forward, I will walk with my head held high.

Each and every day, in love and not hate, I will leave my mark, each and every day, even those that are dark.

Even if I fall seven times, I will always get up again.

I will not be overruled by my emotions or let my present circumstances determine who I am.

No longer am I my own worst enemy; today I am my friend.

When times get tough, I will push through pain and do what needs to be done. As for my responsibilities, never again will I run, not even from one.

My life and my future are mine.

From this day forward, I will manage my own time.

I am not alone, but part of a mighty whole.

Where I can’t, we can, and we will until the end.

This is not where I end! This is not where I end! This is not where I end!

M.L.B.M

We are a movement, not a procrastination. Move!

M.L.B.M

The Movement

We are undervalued, priceless assets that have lost our way in life. I, Shane W. Kervin, am the founder. The movement was inspired by Roland Clark, I can’t but we can; therefore, without you, there is no movement.

Our primary objective is to provide care where the Devil’s Operation Camp (D☆O☆C) does not, and to succeed where the Slavery Yearly So Totalitarians Enjoy Money (S☆Y☆S☆T☆E☆M) tries to keep us broken.

The Five-Step Goal For the Ones We Stand For:

Prevent sentencing to Perdition Reaching In Stealing Our Now (P☆R☆I☆S☆O☆N) or Just Accumulating Individual’s Lives (J☆A☆I☆L).

If unable to pass Step One, then ensure that they are not manipulated by court-appointed attorneys that pretend, more than defend (i.e. public pretenders).

While incarcerated, they don’t get worse (i.e. they get better, not bitter).

Upon release, they never go back.

We don’t give up on seeing them as the person they become.

How We Accomplish These Goals:

We care.

We take an active role in litigation education.

We apply M☆L☆B☆M principles and in so doing we rebuild once-broken lives.

We share our experience, strength, and hope with one another to solidify our cause.

What We Must Do:

We communicate with and for them as an Inmate Voice (I☆V).

We provide legal and educational resources, and build a creative rewards system for those that strive to accomplish more.

First and foremost, I believe a book of life is the most necessary tool for us to utilize in keeping track of what our loved ones are doing, planning, and where they need to grow. This book is similar to a journal, each individual needs to unlearn old negative behaviors and relearn new positive life-building behaviors.

Use the Book of Life to do the Following:

Record the individual’s negative habits

Write down ideas on how to help them

Track the progress of their long-term and short-term goals

M.L.B.M can be simplified by the utilization of a four-part wheel:

M☆I☆N☆D: My Inspiration Never Dies

L☆I☆F☆E: Love Inner-being Family Environment

B☆O☆D☆Y: Build On Disciplining Yourself

M☆O☆V☆E☆S: Make Over Values, Elevate Success

First and foremost, where the mind wonders the body will eventually follow, therefore, M.L.M.B rehabilitation is a tool for renewing the mind. Next, each wounded individual has been led to where he or she is in life by life’s terms. Together we look into that person’s life with vigorous honesty and teach them how to heal. The body is the vehicle with which each and everyone of us move around in. As in the maintenance you perform on a car in order to keep us getting where we need to go, we must learn and teach them to care for their bodies even more so.

Finally, the moves we make are from choices. Therefore, when our mind is complete and at peace, we know where we are and where we wish to go in life. If our mind and body are healthy, then we will not only move toward who we were meant to be, but we will have a longer life left to enjoy it. This is what we teach!

The Problem

It seems these days, no matter what the age, prosecutors simply waive children to adult, then charge them as such in order to get the maximum penalty for the crime in which the child has been charged for. Often times before the child has even had a chance to be heard. Guilty Until Paying For Innocence (GUPFI).

The facilities in which they are incarcerated, for the most part, are run by captors who are cruel, do not care, and create environments that breed hate and distrust for those who they are suppose to help. These facilities provide poor quality everything from food to commissary and hygiene." It’s all sub-standard and cheap while keeping costs high. Which is a form of extortion!

In 2015, racism is still ubiquitous from the courthouse to disciplinary hearings held in prison.

The police gave me money to go fetch less than a gram of crack. The amount of time handed out for charges, such a mine being thirty years, is so disproportionate to the crime. It’s far beyond cruel and unusual punishment. It’s actually forbidden by our United States Constitution’s Eighth Amendment.

There are far too few programs in prison, and our Federal Government has not even mandated that those incarcerated have any right to the education they so desperately need.

Those with authority are not supervising the ones who they have placed in charge of the inmate’s lives. Many inmates do not have the education to attempt the complicated litigations or even the money to hire legal help and are, in turn, forced to ask the courts for help (i.e. the very system trying to oppress them). However, as in a Federal Civil suit, inmates must still pay a $350 filing fee, only to have their case later dismissed by the courts or due to their oppressor’s high-paid lawyers filing technicality motions.

Unfortunately, many of those that serve long sentences are released into a world where their loved ones have given up on and abandoned them, most or all of their belongings are gone, their home is taken away, and they are then placed in the system’s money racket traps while they are ordered to get jobs and pay the high fees to participate.

The medical care or lack thereof which inmates receive, if exposed, would stun humanity. I myself have witnessed inmates having violent seizures simply due to not getting proper medication. One inmate passed out after vomiting in pain due to kidney stones. Instead of being taken to a hospital, jail personnel had me and several others carry him into the hallway. Later we found out that they had simply placed him in a cell by himself to pass the kidney stones with no medical attention. This list goes on and on.

Unfortunately, America as a whole has been tricked into thinking everyone in jail or prison deserves to be there, or they are receiving rehabilitation.

Inmates are human beings who have fallen short in life. Each one, on a case-by-case basis, deserves to have a chance at a productive life. Unfortunately for the most part inmates are told they have a debt to pay to society no matter how big or small the crime is once they are called felons, that debt is incalculable an impossible to pay. If they do owe a debt to civil society then society owes them the debt of reformation an rehabilitation.

Many inmates are extremely gifted with talents such as drawing, building, legal research or litigation, and creative arts, and many like me have plans to start their own businesses. Inmates need jobs and to be taught and encouraged to be responsible, especially for their own way. Unfortunately, with this corrupt money racket we call DOC, no matter how gifted, the odds of an inmate leaving prison and not returning, in most cases, are less than that of them being shot.

M.L.B.M’S

The Usual Cruel and Unusual

Punishment at Its Finest

Cecil Gallagher

I will never forget being in the Tippecanoe County Jail holding section next door to women and hearing male officers enjoy denying them necessary feminine products. I have come close to getting an Assault on Staff charge on several occasions for being denied toilet paper or access to a bathroom when in dire need. To many jail or prison staff, denying inmates food, medical attention, and even a roll of toilet paper is a form of entertainment. Of course, when the inmate lashes out, all that is seen is how violent the inmate is and how he/she is in need of harsh punishment, segregation, and loss of good time credit.

As naive America sat back trusting government to rehabilitate, tyrants hijacked the Constitution, stripped it of civil rights, gave it back to the jails and prison personnel, and in the most misleading fashion, convinced the public it was just and fair.

Human beings that make mistakes get thrown into the Slavery Yearly So Totalitarians Enjoy Money (S☆Y☆S☆T☆E☆M) and those that make it are an endangered species.

Just the fact that inmates attempting to protect their civil rights or have them enforced are met with such unnecessarily complicated litigation, as well as excessive filing fees prove the fact that the just us system does not care about inmates’ well-being. Today, even if a lawyer was to take on an inmate’s case for civil rights violations, there is such a limit on what they may be paid few of them, if any, will take their cases no matter how open and shut they may be.

Being that dogs go insane with rage after years of cruelty, what does the just us system expect to happen to human beings under the same conditions?

Even if a just decision is ever rendered, it is done so as a painful drudgery the hearing official reluctantly endured.

If ever there were a time to revive our care and concern for our human beings incarcerated and the constant provocation, disrespect, and exploitation they endure, that time is now! These days the crime rate increases daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly in epidemic proportions. Another atrocity is the increasing high school dropout rate all but assuring a rise in crime. Simply rehabilitating instead of mass incarcerating for profit would change all that!

If you dominate people with oppression or violence, they will eventually fight back simply because they have nothing to lose.

Many, many minds would grow to astronomical heights if only an exchange of unnecessary and unprovoked punishment on inmates’ opportunities to utilize the creative miracles within them were not being given by our so-called justice system.

There should be no such thing as an idle dorm in prison. Either those incarcerated are in programs or in segregation as a threat to the rehabilitation of others similarly situated. They should still be treated as humans, fed as such, and encouraged to join rehabilitation on a regular basis.

In my