Along with writing books and teaching workshops in Missouri juvenile facilities, I am a motivational speaker. I honed my skills over the 27 years I spent in my state’s correctional facilities.
As you might imagine, it was hard to inspire audiences at the four different maximum-security prisons where I was housed over the years. The vast majority of the men were lifers who had little or no chance of ever being released on parole. When I spoke at events in the gym, like prison legal conferences and Black History Month celebrations, I was often staring out at 100 men. There were no smiles or head nods. Just tattooed faces, mean mugs and expressionless eyes. There is no harder audience than a bunch of lifers in prison.
Although it was at a smaller scale, my first real venture into public speaking was a complete failure. It was April 2013, and I was among 12 men at South Central Correctional Center who earned a certificate in Basic Business Studies from Missouri State University-West Plains. I was chosen to be the keynote speaker for our graduation, and our families, friends, college administrators and prison staff members would be in attendance.
The title of my four-page speech was “The Worth of an Education?” I memorized and practiced it for two weeks. But when I got in front of the crowd, I dropped the ball. I mumbled my way through the whole thing.
The next day, I decided to join my prison’s chapter of Toastmasters International. I became so intense about public speaking that I started reading books about the craft. At our twice-a-week meetings, we had a segment called Table Topics where people would be randomly assigned a subject for a two-minute speech. This is where I learned how to freestyle my speeches, and I use this style to this day.
Toastmasters also showed me how to speak to my fellow prisoners from the soul. I would use the language of alchemy — how to make something from nothing. I would passionately explain how each one of us had the potential for greatness. I would talk about what we all could gain by changing our lives and doing away with a negative mindset. Most importantly, I would tell these men that they were not the worst thing they had ever done.
I could certainly relate. As I’ve written before, one night when I was 16, I committed two armed robberies with an 18-year-old associate. A victim in the first robbery was grazed by a bullet but not badly injured. These crimes took place in December 1995, at the dawn of the youth “superpredator” hysteria. I was charged as an adult with 17 felonies, including first-degree robbery, attempted robbery and armed criminal action. The jury found me guilty on all charges. The judge could have given me 30 years by running the sentences concurrently. But she chose to make them consecutive, which added up to 241 years behind bars. I was transferred from the city jail to a state prison in March 1997.
I was a lifer by the age of 18.
Because my sentence was so harsh, guys would often ask me where I found hope in such a dark place. I would explain how I was fighting to change the law that allowed such a sentence. I wrote thousands of letters to individuals and organizations to highlight the unfairness of sentencing kids to die in prison. Ultimately, this led my sentencing judge to come back and join the fight.
In 2021, the Missouri Legislature passed a law inspired in part by my case that gives people who committed their crimes before 18 a better chance at parole. The judge, who had since retired, even apologized. We became friends, and she helped me secure parole. I got out in November 2022 at the age of 43.
Now my freedom serves as motivation for other lifers to get free. I have been all over the country doing public speaking. I actually get paid for the majority of my speeches, and afterward I get to sell the nine books I wrote and self-published — including the seven while I was in prison.
Out here, the audiences are friendlier. They nod and smile as I talk about my life, my writing and the nonprofit organizations I founded. There’s Dear Mama, which co-hosts biweekly giveaways of clothes, books, fresh produce and other necessities that draw thousands of people in need. Then there’s Troubled Teens With Dreams, which helps teenagers get the resources to accomplish their dreams.
I use my testament of being free as evidence that we can do whatever we put our minds to. It goes back to that alchemy that I spoke about with my fellow prisoners. I became the prolific speaker I am today because they challenged me. I will never forget those men. They are part of me.
Bobby Bostic is a St. Louis native. His most recent memoir, “Humbled To The Dust: Still I Rise,” was published in August 2023 and is available on Amazon. Follow him on X and Instagram using @FreeBobbyBostic and visit his websites, www.minddiamonds.net and www.juvenileliferswithoutparolespeaks.org.
