DJ Dex
Face Everything and Rise
CCI Session 3 2025
When DJ Dex first entered the Prison Electronic Music Program at California Correctional Institution, he wasn’t expecting to be there. He hadn’t signed up — he was randomly selected. Once in the room, Dex was quiet and nonchalant, he kept his distance, unsure of what to expect and unwilling to show excitement.
But everything began to shift during a phone call with his wife. As he searched for a DJ name, she reminded him of an old nickname and encouraged him to lean into the opportunity. That moment sparked something. Slowly, Dex began to open up.
What started as cautious participation grew into genuine engagement. One day, during a group discussion about fear and performance anxiety, Dex shared his personal acronym for the word FEAR: Face Everything And Rise. His vulnerability in that moment cracked something open — not just for himself, but for the entire room. He spoke about the fear of trying something new later in life, and how it didn’t have to stop anyone from moving forward. He became one of the most encouraging voices in the class, reminding others, “Even though I’m really afraid to try these new things, we’re still doing it. We’re all still trying something new.
Dex’s growth wasn’t only emotional — it was technical too. After decades of incarceration, the equipment was foreign and intimidating. He admitted he hadn’t seen a DJ setup since the '80s, when vinyl was the norm. He worried his music taste wouldn’t be “cool enough” and hesitated to engage with the tools at first. But over time, his confidence grew. He embraced unfamiliar technology, grew more decisive with his music selection, and by graduation day, volunteered to perform second — a far cry from the man who once avoided touching the decks.
In the process, Dex became a mentor. He took a younger participant under his wing, encouraging him to reconsider old beliefs and prejudices, particularly around sexuality. “Humans are humans,” he told him, using music and conversation to open a door to empathy. For Dex himself, the program created a space to cross lines he hadn’t crossed before
““I would’ve never talked to most of these people on the yard,” he admitted. “But this class allowed me to show up for my brothers.””
One of the most moving moments came during a visit from Guest Artist Zack Fox.
In the circle, Dex shared a story about witnessing someone be sentenced to death in 1993, and how the Anita Baker and Winans song “Ain’t No Need to Worry” helped him hold it together. Fox later said he would never hear the song the same way again. The weight of Dex’s story gave the song — and the class — a deeper meaning.
By the end of the six weeks, Dex reflected on how much had changed:
““One thing this class has taught me is how to live in the moment. I’ve learned I can communicate with people of different races and ideologies. And when I wanted to give up, everyone encouraged me to try again. We all make mistakes — and we can go back and correct them.””
Though he didn’t speak about long-term music goals — his sentence stretches far into the future — Dex found something equally meaningful: a way to express himself, connect with others, and show up for people he never would’ve spoken to on the yard.
““This group reminded me I’m human,” he said. “It taught me the power of community.””
DJ Dex’s journey is a reminder that access, encouragement, and community can reignite what once felt lost. Donate today to help more individuals reclaim their creative path.
