Tierre Caldwell grew up without a father in a violent gang setting in Minneapolis. As a teenager, he developed addictions to drugs and alcohol. After an argument, he shot a man and was sent to prison for seven years. He wound up in solitary for six months, where he had no choice but to stop using and face his demons.
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Host: Vic Vela
Lead producer: Jo Erickson
Editor: Erin Jones
Mixed by Matthew Simonson
Additional producers: Rebekah Romberg, Luis Antonio Perez
Music: Daniel Mescher, Brad Turner
Executive producers: Brad Turner, Rachel Estabrook
Thanks also to Kevin Dale, Hart van Denburg, Jodi Gersh, Clara Shelton, Matt Herz, Martin Skavish, Kim Nguyen.
On Twitter: @VicVela1
Transcript
Vic Vela:
Just a quick note before we get started, this episode contains strong language and graphic descriptions.
In 3, 2, 1.
It's a popular belief that gangs are power-hungry groups of thugs who set out to create chaos and violence in a neighborhood. But for Tierre Caldwell, they served another purpose. Caldwell didn't live the traditional family life, but his family did provide a much needed sense of belonging that provided security in a tough world. Tierre’s family was a gang.
Tierre Caldwell:
Joining the gang. It starts with, you know, just hanging out, feeling out the person who you are. And then it's really more or less like trauma bonding. You relate to somebody else through their struggle and your struggle. Like - we're both poor. We're both from this same neighborhood. We both don't have fathers. We both have mothers who may or may not have been on drugs, and we come from broken families. And it's almost as if our trauma has, in some ways, bonded us together at this point. And so the trauma kind of in a strange way, connects you.
Vic:
Yeah. I mean, there's something about broken people coming together.
Tierre:
Right? Right. And so we’re all broken pieces - but in this gang or this family, when we all come together, we feel complete.
Vic:
Facing a hostile world alone, Tierre grew up angry and lashed out at everyone and everything.
I'm Vic Vela. I'm a journalist, a storyteller, and a recovering drug addict. And this is season three of Back From Broken from Colorado Public Radio. Stories about the highest highs, the darkest moments, and what it takes to make a comeback.
It was the 1980s, and Tierre's mom moved into a small apartment in north Minneapolis. Living in a single parent home can be tough for a kid. Tierre's mom had a full-time job, and she found it hard raising a son on her own. Though his mom lived directly across the street from his dad, Tierre's father never wanted to see him. It wasn't until Tierre was nine years old when he and his dad were in the same room for the first time since he was born.
Tierre:
He was very happy. He felt like he was doing a fatherly thing. But I remember it because he didn't know my birthday. He didn't know anything really about me. I was very excited, obviously, because I'm like, wow, this is my dad. He was saying my name wrong, and he just didn't know much about me, and he wasn't very interested to really learn anything about me. It was kind of like, “Here's these shoes. Be happy that I went in my pocket and got these shoes for you.”
Vic:
Tierre learned a lot from that experience. He toughened up and suppressed all of his feelings of rejection and abandonment. Nobody was gonna hurt him again. He learned from his mom's abusive partners that violence was a normal part of life. Then when a friend of the family came to stay at Tierre's place, he learned even more.
Tierre:
My mother had a friend come live with us at the new house, and she had a son. Me and him were best friends, but she smoked and drank and smoked cigarettes and weed and alcohol. And that was kind of my introduction into drug use.
Vic:
Okay. How old were you about this time?
Tierre:
12. Yeah.
Vic:
Well how did drugs make you feel?
Tierre:
It was just an escape. It was an outlet. It helped ease the chip on my shoulder because I used the chip on my shoulder of not having a father - that void I filled with hate and really just a rebellious spirit. I rebelled against everything. My mother. I started getting into fights at school. And then that's what kind of led me into gangs and different things like that.
Vic:
Tierre drifted easily into the local gang. He was a 14 year old kid who felt good to be a part of something, even if it led to crime and violence. But things got complicated for Tierre. His mom bought a new home in the middle of Tierre's rival gang territory.
Tierre:
The house that she bought was dead smack in my opposition’s neighborhood. If I had to go to the corner store, it was in my enemy's neighborhood. My mom obviously didn't know that when she bought the house, but I did. And so she never really understood the struggles I had growing up in that neighborhood, which I hated. That's really why guns were essential because over there in that neighborhood, I had to have protection over there. ‘Cause it's a rough neighborhood as is. Even if I wasn't in a gang, it's still a rough neighborhood. But I was in opposition in that neighborhood. And just to go to the store, I had to have it with me.
Vic:
By his late teens, Tierre’s drug use was out of control. He would rob people, jack cars, and sell and steal drugs while he was high.
What did your drug and alcohol use look like?
Tierre:
It was marijuana and alcohol. I'll say it again - when I do something, I do it to the T. We used to rob people coming out of the liquor store. We used to rob dope boys, guys who were selling drugs in our neighborhood. My drug use increased a lot. I would say an average day for us, it'd be a pack of Newport 100s, a 24 case of Olde English malt liquor, and at least about a half, to an ounce of weed a day. That was normal, daily consumption. And at some point in that day we would go out and we would rob, or we would fight, amongst each other even sometimes. There would be some sort of criminal activity.
Vic:
Just day-long debauchery and violence. That's a lot of Olde English by the way. I tried that once, and it didn't work out so well for me. I ended up passed out by a river when I was 16, and I woke up like: I'm never drinking this thing again.
Tierre:
I got introduced to Ecstasy in the year 2000, 2001. And in my mind I thought that it was just the best thing because you couldn't smell it.
Vic:
Mm.
Tierre:
Nobody really knew that you were off of it unless you told him, and the high lasted longer. And it, it kind of in my mind at the time, it kind of got me with the serotonin flowing. It made me say a lot of things I was holding back.
Vic:
By 1995 people in north Minneapolis lived in constant fear. Gang wars plagued the streets, and gunshots rang out most nights.
Tierre, do you remember how old you were when you first picked up a gun?
Tierre:
Probably 13, 14.
Vic:
Do you remember how it made you feel?
Tierre:
I did. We used to go out and just rob people for no reason. I had came across a gun one night. I was the one who was holding it, and I pulled it on somebody ‘cause we had just been going to our opposition’s neighborhood, just robberies or what have you. This particular night I had the gun, and I actually pulled it. And when I saw that fear, it kind of made me feel, I don't know. At the time I felt invincible, I guess you could say.
Vic:
Yeah. I mean, ‘cause it gave you a certain power that you didn't have when you were a boy.
Tierre:
Yeah. Yeah. It gave you that rush, and it brought the power to you feeling powerless.
Vic:
Which you had felt for so long growing up.
Tierre:
Oh absolutely.
Vic:
As the gang warfare continued on the streets, most gang members thought they'd be dead by the age of 18. Life was cheap. You live fast and die young.
Tierre:
None of my friends made it past 18. And if you made it to 21, you were like a god. It just didn't happen. I got shot in the head when I was 17. Shootings, violence, death. It becomes so normal because you can't be in a gang and be afraid to get shot.
Vic:
To escape this world, he would often visit a girl he'd been in a casual, albeit stormy, relationship for years. When they were together, Tierre felt like he was in control. He dictated the terms. He'd leave when he wanted. And she couldn't tell him what to do. That was until she got pregnant. Then it suddenly hit him: he was gonna be a dad. And Tierre started to dream big about his future with a child. But he didn't hang on to that dream for long.
Tierre:
I was knee deep in my addiction obviously. And there was a friend - I can't even really call him a friend. He was an associate of a friend of mine. We were at my house, and this gentleman was getting very belligerent with a few of my family members at my house. I knew him from the neighborhood, but I didn't know him. He wasn't a friend, but he was a using friend. He was just somebody who would come over. If I had girls, or if I had liquor and weed and Ecstasy, he would come over.
Vic:
Yeah.
Tierre:
This particular day he came over, and he was drunk, and he was getting very belligerent with a few of my cousins and house guests. And I went to the liquor store, and I came back, and he was fighting one of my younger cousins. And then he took a brick and cracked my cousin in the face with the brick. So my cousin started bleeding profusely. It looked like he had got shot, ‘cause the blood just came rushing outta his chin. And then the guy ran. And so we followed him to his house. Once I got to his house, somebody that was with me fought him. And while he was fighting, he backed up and went in his pockets like he was about to pull something out. So that's when I pulled out and fired upon him.
Vic:
In Tierre's mind, he was just defending himself. But the courts took into account that he was part of a gang, and he was sentenced to 73 months in prison. Everything was going wrong in his life. And just as he was coming to terms with being a father of a young boy, he realized he was becoming the very thing he hated.
But now you're looking at going to prison. Are you thinking of your son at that time?
Tierre:
Yeah. So my drug use increased. I just kept saying to myself, I'm gonna end up like my dad. My son's not gonna know who I am. I'm not gonna be there for my son. And so, yeah. I always made a personal pact to myself: I'll never be like my dad was to me. Ever.
Vic:
And now here you are.
Tierre:
And now here I am.
Vic:
Tierre was sent to a Minnesota prison in 2011. He was scared, and his addiction was out of control. But even in despair and isolation Tierre had a glimmer of hope, and that's coming up after the break.
During some dark days in prison where it seemed impossible to carry on, Tierre met a friend, a father figure who would change his life. But first Tierre had to confront his own demons.
Tierre:
I just kind of got to a dark place, man. After all the powerlessness and all the hopelessness, I got sent to a hole for like six months for an incident with another inmate for fighting. And then I just had a breakdown in the hole. I was sitting there by myself. I swear the devil was sitting in that actual cell with me, and he just was leaned up against the wall. And he said, “See, I told you. I knew you would always be here. You can't even - not only can you not make it in society, you're in prison, and you can't even make it in prison. You're in the hole.” He just told me I was nothing, and that I belonged here, and that this would be the rest of my life. This would be my story. I was nothing. I was a has- been father. I was an addict. I was a junkie. I was a criminal. I was a thug. I was just the scum of the earth. And that's why your father never bothered to know you.
Vic:
Wow. I can't imagine: you're alone, and your only conversation is with the devil, and he's telling you how worthless you are. How did you get yourself out of that?
Tierre:
It kind of came down to a situation where I just kind of told myself this is either gonna make me or break me. And once I got out of that rat-infested, sewage-infested, cage, I started dedicating myself to self-development. And I started writing. And then I began to study my history. I began to study black history, and then I got involved in treatment as well. And treatment was probably one of the most important catalysts that helped my growth. And I began to seek out things to better myself. So for as much evil and destruction as I sought out, I just kind of flipped it in a way. I asked God to remove anything out of my life that did not coincide with the path that he wanted me to take.
Vic:
When Tierre was released from solitary confinement, he immediately got help. He started cognitive therapy.
Tierre:
The cognitive therapy was so helpful. God, it was so deep ‘cause for the first time it was brought to my attention that my way of thinking was not the correct way of thinking. ‘Cause I always thought every thought that came to my mind was the right thought. The minute that my counselor actually did my assessment, she said, “Okay, yes, you need to work on your pride. You need to work on your ego.” And I'm like, “I don't got no pride. I don't got no ego.” Being boastful and egotistical and prideful in my response. Not really having that deep understanding of what it actually meant. And I never stepped outside of myself to look at myself because I never thought, number one, anything was wrong with me, but I knew the deeper I delved into myself, it would hurt.
Vic:
Oh yeah. You know, it's funny how much I can relate to that ego, you know, ‘cause we're so driven by ego for so long, and it's gotten us nowhere. And my first sponsor in recovery, he's like, “The one thing I need you to remember is your first thought is wrong.” And as soon as he said that, I'm like, okay. You really just had to turn your thinking on its head because your brain is always going to put up this defense mechanism. It's a default setting that you had for so long. And then in therapy you really had to kinda rewire your brain so to speak.
Tierre:
Absolutely.
Vic:
And you also, Tierre, you're now learning coping mechanisms for things like anger and violence. Can you share some of those things that you learned?
Tierre:
Yeah, absolutely. Number one, I had a lot of trauma. And I learned that I knew nothing about emotional intelligence, nothing. I was taught to deal with my problems in a violent way because that's the only thing individuals from my circle or my world, that's what they respected. I thought that that was the norm. But then I learned alternatives to violence. I learned how to de-escalate situations. Like I learned how to be assertive versus aggressive. I got to the core of what made me act how I acted. And it really made me evaluate my childhood trauma.
And the thing I love the most about this treatment is I could not blame one thing on anybody else. I think that was the one thing that saved my life. They made me delve deep into my addiction, into my gang life, into my family story, into my relationships. And they held me accountable for every single thing I did. And I could not blame one thing on anybody else. I had to turn it back to myself. I'd never done that before. I had never had to be accountable for my wrongdoing. I never had to peel back and get to the core of why I did what I did. I never got to experience or even talk about my trauma. I didn't even know what trauma was. I thought it was just normal things that people just go through.
Vic:
What you just said perfectly sums up the challenges that we face in recovery when we're learning a new way of learning - a new way of thinking, basically. For so long, it was so easy to just blame others for all of our problems because it's easy. It's not my fault, it's that guy's fault. And what does that foster though? It fosters resentment and resentment breeds more resentment. And when we use drugs and alcohol, we're fueled by that resentment.
Tierre:
Absolutely. Absolutely. A hundred percent.
Vic:
Then Tierre met Shane Price, founder of the Power of People Leadership Institute, commonly known as POP Guys.
Tierre:
I met Shane, I believe, a little bit after I got outta treatment. I can't remember if I was in treatment or after. My mother lived across the street from his mother. And I saw Shane, but I didn't know who he was (this is before I was in prison). It was amazing to see a man who wasn't afraid to, you know - he was very boisterous and flamboyant inside the prison walls, and he just spoke mighty. He wasn't timid. It was the first time really that another black man gave off a father type of image and a love, but like not a punk-type of love. It was more or less a genuine type of love. I could tell he had lived experience versus studied experience. If that makes any sense.
Vic:
Absolutely. Well, what was the group teaching you? What were some of the values they were instilling?
Tierre:
Personal power. Really just the power that you have inside of you has always been there. You just never tapped into it. And if you did, you just kind of used it in the wrong outlets or avenues, which was true. And then his wife, Dr. Verner Price, she wrote a book called “The Power of People: Four Types of People That Can Change Your Life.” There are adders, subtractors, and multipliers. The adders, they add to your life. Subtractors take away. Dividers, they divide you from your purpose. And multipliers take what an adder has, and they take what you have, and kind of multiply it. And so I began to accept that philosophy. And it was beautiful because it was kind of a culturally-specific type of cognitive behavior, real life class, that spoke to my childhood trauma, the current trauma that I was dealing with while I was inside, and even the current trauma that was awaiting me when I got out.
Vic:
All through his cognitive treatment and then working with POP Guys, Tierre held onto one thing that motivated him to stay sober. He wanted to be reunited with his son. Tierre reached out several times while he was in prison.
Tierre:
I would call there to ask to talk to my son, and she would make my son say disrespectful things to me when I called. I'd be like, “Hey son.” And he would say things like, “Daddy, did you shoot somebody? Are you in prison? Do you have any money?” She would just tell him to say these horrible things to me. So that scarred me even more. And then she wouldn't bring him up there to see me.
I remember I called my mom one day, and I actually was almost in tears. And I said, I cannot take not seeing my son. And she said, “Well, son, you may just have to act like he's not here in order for you to survive in there.” That was - that, that was crazy. It was sickening for me to even think of, but I had to block my son out of my psyche in order to survive mentally inside. Even though I devoted my change and my transformation to him, I had to kind of block him out because it really started to mess with me. It's one thing to not see your son, but it's another thing - whenever you call your son, your son is used in being harassed and he's being made to say these disrespectful things to put the nail on the coffin. Like it was just so hard and hurtful to deal with. I have vivid memories of that, my son being told to say disrespectful things to me while I'm in prison. It was just hurtful. It was a difficult time.
Vic:
Yeah. You just had to block him out for a little bit. You just had to block him out. Tierre left prison in 2016 and started a new life. He leaned heavily on the support of Shane Price and the organization POP Guys to help get him a home and a job. Pretty soon, he was starting to find peace and forgiveness.
Tierre:
The week after I got out, I went to this nonprofit to kind of better myself and get some help with housing. And he walked past - the victim of my crime. And my heart is beating out on my chest. He was looking at the ground. And I started the conversation off. I said, “Man, you know what? I can't change what happened, but I want to tell you from the bottom of my heart, with every bone in my body, I have the utmost remorse for what I did to you. I'm a different person now. I'm in a different space. And I don't want you to think that I came here for you. I'm here trying to better my life. I just want you to know that I have the utmost contrition. I really apologize for what happened.” And then it was his turn to talk. And he apologized for whatever his role was in that situation. He still wanted to be friends with me.
Vic:
That's incredible.
Tierre:
It is.
Vic:
Tierre continues to thrive in his new life. Two years ago, Shane hired Tierre at the Power of People Leadership Institute, and Tierre has made an impact on voting rights for ex-offenders. He was part of an ACLU lawsuit to restore voting rights to ex-offenders in the state of Minnesota. But Tierre had to learn another hard lesson. Being a father doesn't automatically give you the right to be with your son. It was something he had to earn.
Tierre:
It was very difficult though. It was very difficult. Just transitioning back into society. That was one thing. But then dealing with the entitlement that I felt like I was owed because this was my son. And so I was just like, well, why should I have to wait? What's the big deal? This is my son. I should be able to see him.
Vic:
What did you say to your son at that time?
Tierre:
I said, “Do you have any questions for me?” ‘Cause he was looking like - yeah, but no. And then I said, “Go ahead and ask me, son.” I said, “You can ask me anything.”
And he was like, “Are you a bad person?”
And I said, “No.” I said, “I'm a good person that made a bad decision once in my life.” And I said, “Do you think I'm a bad person?”
And he was like, “No, I don't think you're a bad person.”
I was like, “Man, do you know how much I missed you?”
And he was like, “No, I don't know.”
And I said, “Do you know that I've been asking to talk to you and be with you?”
And he was like, “No, I didn't know that.”
Vic:
Today Tierre is still struggling to have his son in his life. He's learning from his mistakes and is still growing as a person. He knows how lucky he is to have someone like Shane Price in his life to help him be the father he wants to be.
Tierre:
It's just a blessing to have people in your life, in this chapter. All that time I wasted being high thinking that I was living life. You know, now I can actually appreciate organic happiness, divine freedom, and just unfiltered love. Vic:
Next time on “Back From Broken,” we've got something special. You'll get to meet Tierre's mentor, the guy that helped him turn his life around, Shane Price. Hear Shane's story about rising up from a life of hustling women to hearing the birds sing for the first time. Next week on “Back From Broken.”
“Back From Broken” is a show about how we're all broken sometimes and how we need help from time to time. If you or someone you know are struggling with addiction, you can find a list of resources at our website, backfrombroken.org
“Back from Broken” is hosted by me, Vic Vela. Our lead producer today was Jo Erickson. Matthew Simonson was also a producer. Find a list of everyone who helped make this episode in the show notes. This podcast is made possible by Colorado Public Radio members. Learn about supporting Back from Broken at cpr.org.
