SOLVING THE ISSUE of gun violence in America may, perhaps, come from the most unlikely experts on the subject: prisoners who used firearms to commit their crimes.
Arms Down is a self-help organization started by prisoners at San Quentin Rehabilitation Center. The group may be the first in the nation to start a curriculum and dialogue with lawmakers, prosecutors and police to address gun violence.
“None of us in this room are mass shooters,” said Jermaine Hunter, during the first session of Arms Down. He’s a 46-year-old African American from Fresno, serving a sentence of 34 years to life for attempted murder, and one of the group’s co-founders.
Hunter spoke to an audience of about 75 men, the majority of whom were Black and Hispanic prisoners. Statistically, these men come from communities that are plagued with gun violence and incarceration, but Hunter called them “potential mentors” for their communities.
“If anybody in here thinks it’s cool to call home and hear a family member went to prison for a gun, raise your hand,” Hunter said. Not a single hand went up. “That’s what I thought.”
Steven Warren, another co-founder, is a 35-year-old African American from West Oakland who was convicted of domestic violence and is serving a 16-year sentence. He said prison has programs to address the use of drugs, alcohol, cellphone use and violations of the law, but, “Nothin’ addressing the guns” used to commit crime.
“It wasn’t until I started to understand the cycle of violence that I said we gotta do something,” said Jessie Milo, a 46-year-old man from Southern California serving 200 years plus six life sentences for a gun crime. The first introduction question in the program asks: “What was your first experience with a firearm?”
Remembering their first time
Many of the men who attended the meeting were candid when they spoke about their first encounters with a gun.
By age 11, “I had a two-gun policy,” said George Coles-El, 44, originally from Brownsville in Brooklyn, New York. He’s serving a sentence of 35 years to life for first-degree burglary, interfering with a peace officer, receiving stolen property, being a convicted felon in possession of a firearm and unlawfully possessing a butterfly knife and a firearm.
At age 8, he saw a dead man who was shot at a train station, and another man get his head blown off. Traumatic as that was at such an early age, he said, “The cycle of violence has to stop.”
Coles-El said, “It’s peoples’ Constitutional right to bear arms, but they don’t have the right to do harm,” he said.
“You’ve got to show them it’s a different model.” said Hunter. “A lot of people want to come in and help the (Arms Down) program. They want to hear from (us) to learn how they can help.
“My life has been hell going through U.S. bombings in my country,” said Kamsan Suon, a 48-year-old native of Cambodia. He’s also one of the Arms Down development members. As a child growing up listening to gangsta rap, Suon “thought it was cool to shoot.”

Suon’s family escaped AK-47s, terror and genocide of the Khmer Rouge regime in the late 1970s. They arrived in the U.S. in 1981. “That stuff had an effect on me,” he said.
By age 12, Suon said he was excited when he found a loaded .22 rifle.
“I’m going to check that off on my bucket list,” he said about discharging the firearm. “I was happy I was able to shoot a gun.”
As he got older, during an argument, Suon shot someone.
“At the moment I felt so powerful,” he said. “Afterward, I felt so low. I had unresolved anger.” He said the Arms Down curriculum will address that issue for him and others.
“Your first experience with a firearm is pivotal,” said Coles-El.
Many of the men who attended agreed. A word to describe the feeling they had in common was “power.” One person said about carrying a gun: “It was like a way of life.”
“I had a God complex,” said another man in the audience.
A palmful of power
The Arms Down facilitators explained how boys’ interaction with guns becomes normalized. The second question in the program asks about gun interaction and how it shaped one’s character about guns.
One man stood and described his experience getting a colorful toy gun at Chuck E. Cheese when he was in the fourth grade. He took the gun home and spray painted it black. Like others, he used the word “power” when reflecting on what having a gun meant to him at such an early age. Looking back, he said, “It never even crossed my mind to go back to that time and see how it affected my mind.”
Hunter discussed the false beliefs boys and men learn about guns. Those beliefs were confirmed by a barrage of comments made by the men.
Beyond rap music, movies such as “Scarface” and “Dirty Harry” had influenced them.
“Don’t pull it out unless you’re going to use it,” was a street mantra one man used.
A former gang member who is now a Muslim said carrying a firearm was “part of my culture.” “When I signed up to be a gang member (carrying guns) became an every-day lifestyle,” another person in the audience said.
“(A gun) gives them peace of mind” when they carry it, another said.
Another repeated the ad from an old American Express commercial: “Don’t leave home without it.” One person said at one time he owned 35 guns and 17 assault rifles. He broke them down, made his own bullets and counted the grains. By his own admission, he was “obsessed” with guns. “It was an addiction,” he said.
“I’d rather get caught with it, than without it,” another person said.
“Another false belief,” said Hunter. “When you pack a gun, you live by and die by it.” A man in the audience said once he was knocked out simply for being in the company of another person who may have been a target. “It’ll never happen again,” he said.
There was a general consensus, though: that incarcerated people should not return to an environment where people carry guns in the belief a gun is needed. In general, all they seem to have wanted was to feel safe in hostile environments.
Someone mentioned the NRA. “They’re not gang members, but they do want to defend themselves.” Another participant, however, summed up the consequences: “Carrying a gun for ‘self-defense’ is a double-edged sword.”
Now the real work begins for Arms Down. Hunter is hopeful that all stakeholders will work together to reduce the epidemic of gun violence in America.
