First Christmas with my mother in 20 years. I deserve clemency, and so do others.

Editor's note: On Tuesday, Attorney General Merrick Garland announced the administration's decision not to send incarcerated people who were released because of COVID-19 back to prison. 

Kendrick Fulton is one of thousands of people who were put on home confinement last year, and who is now hoping for a commuted sentence. 

Correction: A headline misstated the number of years Kendrick Fulton spent Christmas away from his mother. It has been updated.     

This week, I will celebrate my second Christmas on home confinement and the first with my mother – who is 75 years old – in decades. Just two years ago, I was in a federal prison cell in Beaumont, Texas. 

By that time, I had served nearly half of my 33-year sentence for possession with intent to distribute powder crack and cocaine – a nonviolent drug offense. Because of the problems with COVID-19 in federal prisons, I was released last year to serve part of my sentence on home confinement.

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In the past two years, I've become a truck driver (I would love to be an owner-operator) and done some public speaking about the toll that incarceration takes on families who lose their support system and often their income. I'm from a little town in West Texas. My fight to bring light to the home confinement issue isn't just about me. If the public saw what happens inside federal prisons, people would be outraged about the money spent for inmates to make no progress. 

I, and the thousands of other people who have been released from prison because of COVID-19, have been productive. So many of us have proved that we are fit to reenter society.

I commend the Biden administration's decision not to send us back to prison after the COVID-19 emergency is lifted. I hope President Joe Biden will find it in his heart to grant us clemency as well. 

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While I look forward to spending the holiday with my family – last year I spent it with my uncle in Dallas – I can't help but think about the many I've spent away from them.  

Never wanted my family to visit

During my nearly 18 years of incarceration, I spent Christmas Day in about seven facilities across the southern United States. One year I was in Louisiana, another in Arkansas, another in Oklahoma and also in Kansas. It took me 10 years to get back to my home state of Texas while in federal prison. 

At the time of my incarceration, I had been married for two years and had five children – my oldest was 11 and my youngest 18 months. 

My thoughts on Christmas were always with my family, and my sadness was compounded by the fact that, while away from them, there was no way I could provide them with what they wanted. My incarceration was long, and their Christmas wish lists were also long, as they should be.  

Holiday staff shortages meant the compounds where I was incarcerated were on lockdown. I spent Christmas Day in my cell. Most years there weren’t religious services. A few days before Christmas, I got a gift bag with assorted sweets and snacks, and a special holiday dinner.

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Calling family on holidays from prison was difficult – not just because it reminded me of how much I missed them, but because everyone in prison was trying to do the same thing. We were allowed more than one phone call, but each could only be 15 minutes, and we had to wait an hour in a long line to make the next call. 

Needless to say, the separation was hard. But I never wanted my family to visit during the holidays. The trip was too expensive. I did not want to put that extra burden on them.

I'm sure my kids were impacted by me not being there. But despite my absence, I always instilled in them that Jesus Christ was “the reason for the season,” and that it was not about gifts or Santa Claus.

Despite my incarceration, my children received gifts thanks to the Prison Fellowship’s Angel Tree program. I would sign up for the program several months before the holidays. Local churches then reached out to my family to see what they wanted, and the churches provided Christmas gifts.

My kids loved it – they would write to me to tell me what they received. What the churches provided was a blessing. Now that I’m working, I’m donating to the Angel Tree program. I want to do the same thing that others did for my kids.

Being home is a blessing

Because of the limits of home confinement, my mom and my sisters are coming to my house. Mom is doing the cooking. She’s making gumbo, which I love, but she’s also making a side of Cornish hens just for me. I'm excited just to be able to spend time with my mother and sisters, and I hope to see my children, who are now living and doing well spread out across the United States.

Aside from the joy of celebrating Christmas, just being home is a blessing. I was not supposed to be home until 2032, when my sentence ends. 

While I may never be released from home confinement, I’m thankful this Christmas for the love and support of my family and friends, a good job and the opportunity to show that I am sorry for my past mistakes and ready to be a productive member of society. I'm also thankful for the many people who supported my efforts to remain out of prison, including Alice Marie Johnson and her group Taking Action for Good. Organizations such as Color of Change, FAMM and the CAN-DO Foundation have also been leading the fight.

During this special time of the year, I also hope you will pray for me and my family, but also the others like me both in and out of prison who are working hard to put mistakes behind them and successfully return to their families and communities.

Kendrick Fulton is a truck driver who is originally from Houston.