A redefining journey

Witness the power of an encouraging word.

Souls who have never known success, who are on a path to destroy themselves and others, can be transformed when someone takes the time to compliment, motivate and stand up for them. Brandon McIntosh is evidence of that power.

While in the Virginia Beach Jail two years ago, staring at a failed high school basketball career, a lack of ambition and a prison sentence, the 18-year-old reluctantly walked into a GED class. He wasn't sure he wanted to be there. He wasn't convinced he could earn a diploma.

Another inmate sat him down. "You can do this," he said.

At some point during his lessons, Brandon began to believe him. He showed up prepared for class. His teachers encouraged him. They complimented him. They pushed him to do better.

He earned his high-school equivalency - and remembers it as the moment he realized that failure didn't have to define him.

With the support of his GED teacher, Laura Fronk, and using the skills he learned in that jail classroom, Brandon wrote about his realization.

"I believe in the power to learn from failure," he wrote. "Failure can make a person strong, wise, and able to handle adversity....

"It causes a person to become a better decision maker."

On Tuesday, Brandon, 20, stood in front of his prison warden, the school superintendent, teachers and media folks and confidently read his essay, one of 58 chosen for an inspirational book published by the Virginia Beach schools.

"The Power of Belief" compiles the stories of students, teachers and parents who wrote about a value, a person, a memory that had shaped them.

I had come to St. Brides Correctional Institution in Chesapeake to meet this come-from-behind kid. I wanted to know what made the difference for the lanky, well-mannered young man whose mistakes led him here.

As a 16-year-old, he had followed the wrong crowd. He drank. Smoked marijuana. Failed his classes, which got him kicked off the basketball team. "My coach always told me I didn't apply myself," he said with a rueful smile, acknowledging that his coach had been right.

He dropped out and started coveting things that didn't belong to him. While out on bond after his first arrest, he got in trouble again.

Sent to jail to await sentencing on burglary and larceny charges, he was encouraged to get his GED. He began reading and writing every day. Fronk saw his determination and worked with him. When she heard about the school division's call for essays, she suggested that Brandon enter.

Shortly after, he was transferred to St. Brides to serve the rest of his 4-1/2-year sentence.

St. Brides, like most prisons, is an imposing place, full of security measures and surrounded by concertina wire. But its mission is an affirming one, a year-old initiative of Gov. Bob McDonnell's - preparing the 1,147 inmates inside to succeed when they get out.

One-third will go home within a year, said Warden Wendall Pixley. They will be our neighbors, and it makes sense to help them prepare to become productive citizens rather than return to crime. So they are immersed in classes and activities to develop better decision-making skills, discipline and job training; to learn to navigate housing and social services agencies and job applications.

Brandon, Pixley said, is "an excellent example to the rest of the population on how meaningful education is."

This week, as Brandon flipped through the pages of the book and was asked to autograph a copy for a correctional officer, Beach Schools Superintendent Jim Merrill told him that he'd made everybody proud. Brandon grinned. "Compliments drive me," he said.

He has 20 more months on the inside. Then? "I'd like to get into college," he said, "see if I could play college basketball." He's taking classes to become a heating, ventilation and air conditioning technician.

He reaches out to younger inmates, the ones who remind him of who he was just a couple of years ago. He tells them there's more to life than trying to get money illegally.

He gives hope to other young people who have made mistakes, Fronk said. "There are those out there like Brandon who can, and will, make something of themselves."

Sometimes, it just takes an encouraging - and powerful - word.

Candy Hatcher is an editorial writer for The Virginian-Pilot. Email: candy.hatcher@pilotonline.com.