The Turning Point: How a Prison Bus Ride Changed My Life

“Life has a way of cornering you until you face the one person you’ve been running from: yourself. That’s where I was in April 2010, shackled in chains on a prison bus, staring at my reflection in the tinted window. I was my worst enemy, trapped by decisions I thought I had control over…”

It wasn’t my first time on that bus, but something about this ride hit different. The barren forests and snow-capped mountains blurred past me, and as the bus rumbled along, all I could think about was the distance between where I was and where I wanted to be. The chains around my wrists and ankles were the physical manifestation of every bad decision I’d made up to that point.

Next to me sat Son, a hustler from Queens, who’d taken this ride more times than he cared to admit. He was older, seasoned, and carried a kind of wisdom you don’t learn in books. We struck up a conversation—two strangers bound together by the same unfortunate circumstances.

“Why the fuck you in here?” he asked me one day, his gold teeth flashing as he smirked.

I hesitated before answering, “Books wasn’t selling. I got bills…”

Son leaned in, lowering his voice like he was giving me the game. “You gotta decide what you want, man. This life or that pen of yours.”

That shit hit me like a ton of bricks. I’d spent so much time rationalizing my situation—convincing myself I had no other choice. But the truth? I was too scared to fully commit to my dreams. Writing was my passion, but I let fear and the pressure of survival push me back into the streets.

When we finally pulled into Chateaugay, a ghost town that looked like time had forgotten about it, I knew this was my rock bottom. The freezing air bit through my state-issued jacket as we shuffled off the bus, and I felt the weight of it all—of my choices, and my failures.

Inside that prison dorm, surrounded by strangers and the constant hum of those towering wind turbines outside, I made a decision. This was going to be my last time in this situation.

Son, despite his own struggles, saw something in me. He pushed me to take my writing seriously, to stop playing the fence between the life I knew and the life I wanted. And even when he got shipped off to Upstate Box after an altercation, his words stayed with me.

That moment on the bus, that time in Chateaugay—it became the pivot point of my life. It was there I realized I had the power to rewrite my story, but only if I was willing to take control.

“Writing was my passion, but I let fear and the pressure of survival push me back into the streets…”

Transformation isn’t pretty, and it sure as hell isn’t easy. It took being shackled, sitting on a cold bus, and staring at the reality I’d created for myself to realize I was capable of something greater.

To anyone reading this, know that it doesn’t matter how far you’ve fallen. The only thing that matters is the choice you make when you finally hit the bottom. For me, it was the decision to change the game, one word at a time.

If this story resonates with you, I invite you to dive deeper into my journey in Change The Game, my memoir available now on my website, www.tmjefferson.org. It’s a raw and honest account of how I transformed my life and discovered the power within myself to create something greater.

For those ready to take control of their own story, my self-help book, Change Your Game, is your guide to breaking through limitations and redefining your path. And if you’ve ever dreamed of becoming an author, check out the CTG Writing Mastery Course, an 8-week program designed to help you craft your story, build your confidence, and take your writing to the next level.

Your story matters. Your voice matters. And I’m here to help you bring it to life. Let’s change the game together.