Brett "Sequoyah" Hancock

Mailing Address:

Brett Hancock #218285

Utah State Correctional Facility
P. O. Box 165300
Salt Lake City, UT 84116

Background/Bio:

I'm native and white, ex-military, 6'4", 220lb, and 42 years of age. I love all art. I draw, paint, tattoo, and sing. I write poetry, and I'm working on a native superhero novel. I was born and raised in Utah and have traveled extensively in the Air Force. I'm a father of three, divorced, and single. I'm also working on a non-profit to help felons.

Hobbies/Interests/Goals:

I plan on getting a bachelor's degree and eventually a master's. I am starting a non-profit called Savage Minds to help felons get an education and even start their own businesses. We will also be doing a lot of community work to help change people's view of felons and fight for change in the legal system.

I have been out of max for a total of 4 months and 5 days. I actually have caught myself calling Max “jail,” like, “Nah, fuck that! If I do that, they’ll take me to jail!” Quite often, I forget I’ve already been arrested and convicted. But it was not me who got stabbed 100 times. It was some other poor sap who got booked (stabbed) over some gang stuff. Also, I have never owed more than 5 dollars at one time! It’s sad that I can brag about that.

 

The supportive community here is in the section I’ve been in since I left Max. If the return address has “B” like “USCF B4-F3_206T,” then it’s general pop. “G” is for programming, “A” is for max, “B” is gen pop, “C” is medical, “D/E” is the females, “F” is for intake, and they are all different. I officially made the decision to be trans in mid-January. I am an MTF trans who is attracted to cis–men. I only care about the pronoun thing when they purposely say “He/Him” to actively go against my life. Otherwise, I barely notice. I’m usually much more concerned about the content of the conversation.

 

Also, the hate for Mormons is spread throughout the prison. Pretty much everyone here has a history with the Mormons, and all the drop-out Mormons have a very personal reason for the hate. Personally, I’m more Buddhist than anything, but some of the ideals are quite strange. I’m not specifically anything.

 

I really appreciate the dude pictures! It’s actually really nice to have the yellow-shirt guy next to the pink-haired, white-horned headphones, 95% naked girl like they’re a couple! Their names are “Robert” and “Ashley”. Oh yeah! I’m neighbors with Pricilla (Cole McCarty) right now! I just found out that she and another guy here also correspond with you. Unfortunately, she and I don’t really talk so often, even though we share the same letter in the gay acronym.

 

I gave your address to a buddy of mine because he is an amazing artist. He started the genitalia art to make fun of the Magic: the Gathering card game. He also has done several 8.5”x11” pieces of his dog in samurai armor. His name is Issac Christiansen. He should be sending you a letter within the next couple of weeks. I also need you to tell me what to send you! Because only once a week did something actually happen while in max, the average day in max was SUPER boring. I could write about some of the prison “firsts,” like fights, jumpings, raids, riots, and getting sprayed. For now, I’ll write about the time when I saw a dude thrown off the tier!

 

So back in the Draper prison, in section Oquirrh 2-1, we just made a batch of hooch for some others here. They started drinking and having fun and all of that. Eventually, there was some yelling, so my celly and I left our cell to see what was going on, and a guy named Elmer started fighting people. We watched him literally go from cell to cell, trying to throw hands. He got to our house and said, “Even though you’re both weird, I can’t fight a fag because that’s not kosher,” and moved on to the second tier.

 

Relieved, my celly and I re-entered our house. I started talking about how I saved his ass, and they flashed our section lights to rack in for shift change. We then hear a specifically high scream and a thump. My celly went to the window and said, “Damn! Elmer’s fucked up!” so I went to the window. I saw the cops come in and start to pick him up. They stopped and yelled something. Two cops left and came back with a stretcher. I put my ear to the bottom of the door to hear them. The cops were almost laughing because Elmer was crying for his mom.

 

I felt terrible until they pulled everyone out and searched our cells. Then, I no longer felt bad for it. He broke both of his legs, and they still had him on the top tier and top bunk. Because of that, he would constantly say, “Me want Uppy!” to the bigger dudes when he was at the bottom of the stairs.

 

Yes, the big dudes carried him up like a baby.

 

From,

Dezirae Barba

 

#254138

USCF-B4-B7-2068

Salt Lake City, UT, 84116