Hello to all of you following me on my journey through Prison Professors Talent.
First and foremost, I want to thank each and every one of you for taking the time to read and support me through this amazing new chapter of my life—here on the outside, in this beautiful world we all share. Your encouragement and interest in my progress mean more than I can express.
As many of you know, I’ve spent much of my time working and sharing weekly updates about my journey—including the people I work with and the adventures we face together on the job. However, I’ve made the decision to no longer include details or photos of my crew or our worksite moving forward.
This decision comes from a place of respect. Some of my crew members have expressed concerns about privacy, safety, and the perception that I may be taking credit for their hard work. While that was never my intention—in fact, I’ve always aimed to speak highly of their efforts and showcase the teamwork involved—I understand their perspective. Out of respect for their privacy and concerns, I will now focus solely on sharing my personal progress, challenges, and triumphs.
It’s important to note that my posts are made at the end of the week, and often take days to be published, so there is never any real-time information being shared. Nevertheless, I recognize the importance of maintaining boundaries and trust, especially in a work environment. From here on, I’ll be keeping my updates centered around my own journey and personal growth.
Despite these changes, life is good. I’m learning a great deal about road striping regulations, industry standards, and the discipline this type of work requires. The Arizona sun is no joke—long days, 12-hour shifts, and the intense heat make this job one that’s not for the faint of heart. It’s demanding and often takes a toll on personal and family life. As someone still on home confinement, my world outside of work is limited, but I see firsthand how this lifestyle challenges those around me who are juggling work with fatherhood and family responsibilities.
I’m incredibly grateful for the opportunity to learn from the owner of the company, who has been investing time to train me on the operation of two specialized trucks. His willingness to teach me the technical side of the job shows the kind of leadership I admire. He also ensures we have the tools to perform safely and professionally, which is a big contrast to past jobs I’ve had where
corners were cut at the expense of safety and quality.
My foreman deserves recognition as well—his patience and ability to lead under pressure is something I truly respect. It’s not easy to manage a crew and keep things running smoothly, especially in such a high-demand environment, but he does it with skill and professionalism. People like him—and my boss—make it easier to show up each day and give it my all.
Coming from prison, where I spent half my life and found a strange sense of “home” with the men I did time with, this transition has been deeply personal. But with each passing day, that chapter of my life feels further behind me. I’m beginning to see my boss, my foreman, and even the crew as a new kind of family. We don’t always see eye to eye—I’m hard headed, I admit—but this is my family now.
I’ll never forget when I first realized I was part of something more than just a job. Not even a week into working here, I had a family emergency—someone close to me was in the hospital. My boss called me directly, offered to bring food, drive me, and support me however he could. That moment was a turning point. That was when I knew I had found more than a job. I had found brothers.
Thank you again for walking this path with me. I’ll continue sharing my progress and lessons learned, not just to inspire others, but to remind myself that transformation is always possible—with humility, work ethic, and the right people around you.
Until next time,
Justin Norcutt
