Coming to prison makes one feel like a failure, naturally and justifiably so. By most definitions of the word, we lose the ability to be successful. One of my greatest sources of pride was accomplishments in my professional career. It was a big part of my identity, as were things like my home, cars and bank account. Well, I have none of those things now; I’m still in prison, and yet I no longer feel like the failure I once did here.

The other day, when I was perusing some paperwork, I thought I read the words “a permanent part of your life.” I stopped and read it again just to realize it said, “a permanent part of your file” – not life. However, I think my moment of dyslexia was rather apropos. When you become a felon, you are partially, but nonetheless permanently defined by that fact. How would you like to be permanently defined by others for the worst thing you’ve ever done? I’m not going to say it’s unfair, but it’s something to think about.

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I consider myself a less judgmental person than I was before this experience, but only because I try not to judge people on labels like these or from mistakes they made in the past. On the other hand, an argument could be made that I am more judgmental. This environment has forced me to make judgments about people and react accordingly. It’s taught me to place a higher value on character. I’m quick to notice dishonesty or selfishness, and try to insulate myself from people displaying these and other negative characteristics.

Within the prison walls, there is a battle between good and evil just like there is anywhere else. What I’ve come to discover is whether someone is wearing white (prisoners) or blue (officers) has nothing to do with which side they are on. There are those with good intentions and bad, on both sides – people helping or harming other people.

Having a cellie who is never getting out of prison has made me rethink my definitions of success and failure. He is such a positive person with a huge personality. He still has the opportunity to do good and help others wherever he is, and he does just that every day by sharing his upbeat attitude and being a good example. I believe we either create a net positive or negative which I consider to be a healthier measurement of success and failure. Just because the label of felon is a permanent part of someone’s file doesn’t mean failure has to be a permanent part of their life.

I absolutely have a strong desire to immerse myself in a career and be valued in that respect again. In fact, I am more excited to get out of prison and go to work than I am to go on vacation. I want to be prosperous in my professional endeavors and intend to, though I won’t count that to be the extent of my success.

Brian Wood, formerly of Layton, is an inmate at the Utah Correctional Facility in Gunnison. He pleaded guilty to nine felony charges for offenses from 2011 to 2014, including counts of burglary, drug possession and prescription fraud. He could spend up to 25 years in prison, depending on parole hearings.