[music] [music] [traffic] In Brazil, a prison sentence has two purposes.

To punish... and to rehabilitate.

[chains rattling] Unfortunately, the state prison system only carries out the punishment and does not rehabilitate.

Which is why recidivism rates are about 80-85%.

The big problem with the state prison system is not inside the prisons.

The big problem is on the outside, especially in society.

Believing that only prison solves the problem, forgetting that at the end, after serving the sentence, that person who was abandoned behind bars will come back much worse.

In other words, society insists on seeing the prisons as a space of revenge and not as a space for the recovery of the prisoner.

[traffic] [voices] The law doesn't say we should be cruel to inmates.

It says to take away their freedom and offer new possibilities for their future.

I've been a judge for 21 years in the state of Minas Gerais.

When I arrived at the age of 28, I was introduced to the state prison system.

[door closing] Since then, I've often been alarmed at the conditions faced by inmates in my jurisdiction.

I realized that I needed to do something, Otherwise all the work I was doing was meaningless.

That's when I was told I had to get to know APAC.

[voices] Hey, what's going on?

We're getting lunch ready.

I'm coming to take a look.

- Jairo, Jairo!

- Hey, Dr. Valdeci.

You can't leave the gate open, Jairo!

- It's alright.

- No way!

What if someone escapes?

Nobody wants to escape from here.

Not before lunch anyway.

They're waiting for the food.

- How are you?

- I'm fantastic.

How about you?

- You need to shave.

- -OK, I will.

[singing] Oh, Pereira this girl is driving me crazy.

[hands clapping] Crazy... Oh, Pereira.

I want to kiss her again.

Again...

I fell in love... but she doesn't care at all.

It was at a favela party that I met her.

[guitar playing] [kicking ball, running] [water dripping] [birds chirping] [background voices] I was quite taken aback at first because I thought it might all be fake, or staged.

It seemed impossible.

Over time, as I studied the methodology and spent time there, I was convinced that it was possible to find answers to the questions that unsettled me as a judge.

Personally, I've had to face opposition from the justice system.

Other colleagues, didn't want to hear about APAC under any circumstances.

because they thought it was something that made the life of those criminals easier.

This is something I still see, not only in Minas Gerais, but all over Brazil.

which is the preconception, the natural distrust that exists towards any new methodology that aims to change the traditional prison system.

[steps] [voices] Today is the Day of Solidarity We get locked up in the morning and spend the day in reflection of the regular system.

- Who wants coffee?

- I do.

- Who wants bread?

- I do.

The regular system is very sad.

You're just locked up all the time.

So today we remain in our cell in solidarity with our friends who are in the regular system.

We thank God for everything he has done for us, by allowing us to be here at APAC.

On the first Tuesday of each month, we think about our brothers who are locked up in the regular system.

We spend all day reflecting on where we used to be, and where we are now.

[metal door closing, lock] [cheerful music] I discovered the APAC method in a book, by Dr. Mário Ottoboni.

As soon as I finished reading it, I called him up and said I was impressed by what I had read, but still didn't believe it was possible to have a prison with no guards.

A prison without guns.

A prison without correctional officers.

Where all the keys are in the hands of the prisoners.

When I visited that APAC, in São José dos Campos, I was astonished by what I saw.

I saw human dignity, I saw respect.

So I decided to bring the APAC experience to Itaúna.

[birds chirping] [guitar music] [choir singing] Believe that no one among us was born with super-powers.

We build our own dreams by conquering our limits... My name is Bruno.

I'm 36 years old.

My sentence is 17 years, 10 months and 10 days.

[voices, chairs shuffling] I've been at APAC for 5 years and 7 months.

I was a very rebellious person out in the streets.

I sued to take drugs, sell drugs, fight and steal.

And during one of those crimes I ended up arrested and convicted.

I was i a state prison for a year and 5 months, living in a cell that contained 10 beds, yet housed 30 inmates.

It's a place where the motto is: trust no one .

I don't trust my cellmates, they don't trust me, and nobody trusts the correctional officers.

How was I supposed to believe in love when I had cellmates sleeping in the bathroom?

How was I supposed to believe in love and recovery when I was served rotten food almost every day?

How was I supposed to believe in recovery when every day the guards pepper-sprayed us in our cells?

We almost suffocated in there.

We heard about APAC in the conventional system.

[birds chirping] I wrote a letter to the district judge asking for an opportunity to do my time at APAC.

He summoned me for a hearing, and explained APAC's method to me.

After my sentence was finalized, which is one of the criteria to serve time at APAC, I was able to come here and start my treatment.

It's a bit crazy when someone tells you, "I don't care what crime you committed."

"I believe you can change."

At APAC, it's not enough to change one's behavior.

Changing someone's behavior is easy.

The state prison system often achieves that.

What is required is a change in mentality.

Which is a great challenge.

In order to reach that goal, we apply our own form of penal therapy which consists of 12 essential elements.

Recuperando helping recuperando, Family, Human Valorization, Legal Assistance, Healthcare, Merit, the Journey of Liberation, [women singing] Education, Work, Spirituality...

Volunteers.

When these 12 elements are applied harmoniously, they produce results.

It's not easy to come from a place like prison, arrive at APAC, and accept the volunteer's hug, the welcoming from friends.

So, the first days were really complicated.

Until I started to open my heart.

From the moment I opened my heart, things began to happen in my life.

[door opening] One time, they put me in charge of reception.

Something that really surprised me.

I thought to myself, "These people are crazy!"

"How can they trust an inmate with a 17-year sentence with the front gate key?"

But at the same time, I thought, "Somebody trusts me and sees potential in me."

I didn't want to lose that trust.

There would be no APAC without the work of volunteers like me, the support of the legal system, through public administration, and the recuperandos themselves willing to cooperate.

Without any one of these three elements, there would be no APAC.

At APAC, we are the ones who have to work.

We the volunteers and the recuperandos.

If I wanted to build a new APAC and I had to hire all the staff and educators, our costs would blow up to 5 or 10 million.

It wouldn't work.

That's our main difference.

The volunteers.

People ask how we manage to get by.

It's because everyone puts in their hard work.

[cheerful music] [pouring coffee] I was invited to work at APAC as a volunteer.

And I never left.

My mother wouldn't allow me to go, so I used to sneak out.

My husband knew.

He didn't like the idea very much, but he let me go.

I've worked at APAC my whole life, because it is rejected by many.

Many people reject APAC.

So I took to defending the cause.

My granddaughter is currently doing time there.

[shuffling paper] This book started off...

It's a silly little thing.

Poems in Confinement.

There's some memories from my life.

Thoughts about my feelings... About my last husband... We can express a lot through writing.

Feelings we carry inside.

A piece of paper can sometimes relieve our hearts.

[sigh] [paper shuffle] She was very rebellious.

We'd tell her off.

He'd often chase after her.

We'd hear from other people: "Michelle went to the waterfall."

"She was on a motorcycle with a guy and they went to the waterfall."

I'd go after her, never knowing who the biker was.

And we'd never find out.

That's how it happens.

They take our children away and we don't even notice.

Look at her cheeky little face.

She was dressed up for Carnaval.

At the age of 12, I left home to see my independence I worked as a prostitute...

I sold drugs...

I fell in love with a powerful drug dealer, and I was arrested with 482 pieces of crack, two guns, a box of ammunition, and a lot of money.

The worst moment of my life was getting the phone call telling me Michelle was in jail.

My world just fell apart.

I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat.

It was very hard.

In state prison, instead of getting better, I got worse.

I continued dealing drugs in prison.

In fact, I made more money on the inside than I did before.

Whenever I needed a supply of drugs, a cop would bring it to me.

Ir wasn't expensive.

I'd give him a thousand bucks and kept ten thousands for myself.

It was a time when I suffered a lot, but also brought a lot of suffering to others.

[TV sounds] [voices] [indistinct conversation] [chair moving] I had a lawyer, but he did nothing.

Since my mother had many contacts at APAC, I decided to ask her for help.

My grandmother was able to speak to the judge and the president of APAC and they brought me here on Christmas Eve.

I don't think that Michele's sentence was too harsh.

She's paying what she owes.

She tells me, "Mom..." "This time I won't let you down."

"There isn't a drug in the world that'll take me away again."

I believe her.

I've always been my mother's biggest disappointment.

But now I'm sure that I'm her greatest pride.

[music] [voices] Sometimes I lose myself in the time I'm missing I feel dead; powerless.

I'm struggling to get back to life Sometimes it seems difficult But God... Oh...

He proves to me every day that I am strong.

That I'll be victorious.

That these bars are what I need to come back to life.

To live without fear I need to believe I am capable and that everything is waiting for me beyond the walls which stop me from seeing the light that shines for everyone.

[machine buzzing] [voices] Work is a part of the methodology.

At APAC, recuperandos are required to work.

Nobody is idle.

There is no idleness at APAC.

Many of the recuperandos never worked in their lives.

Never had a profession.

Many of them entered a life of crime because they never had a chance to work.

At APAC, they have the opportunity to learn a trade.

They tend to the garden, work at the bakery or the wood shop so that when they are released, they have a fair chance in the job market.

and are able to reintegrate into society.

This is one of the workshops of the semi-open regime here at APAC Itaúna, where we have a partnership with Magneti Marelli, which provides parts to car companies.

They produce the parts and send them for us to assemble.

Today we're assembling air filters for Fiat Uno air conditioners.

In the closed regime, work is a form of therapy.

Work therapy reveals to the recuperando aptitudes he may not have known he had.

Work with crafts, or painting... work that stimulates them to discover new values.

to understand that the same hands that caused harm can also do good.

[hammering] [filing wood] [driller] [filing, drilling, hammering sounds] I've been in prison here at APAC for just about 2 years.

I work in the wood shop for work therapy, mainly to keep myself busy.

If you don't keep your mind active, you go insane.

My case is homicide.

My family won't allow me to see my children.

It's very hard for me.

If they were here today, I would probably feel sick.

It's just too emotional for me.

I don't even like to look at pictures of them.

I miss them very much.

Usually those who do evil don't know the harm they have done.

It's like you grabbing a stone and throwing it into a pond.

The stone sinks, it disappears.

but it causes waves that will reach to the shore.

So, crime is often like that.

The person commits a crime, [hands clapping] and doesn't realize the harm they have done, but it will cause a big impact.

Through lectures on Human Valorization, cell meetings and general assistance, we will help the inmate to understand the harm they have caused.

I'm going to as you all a question.

If you'd like to answer, raise your hand and go ahead.

Just let people finish.

Don't talk over each other, ok?

OK.

So here's my question: - If your son.... What's his name?

- Davi.

If Davi came up to you one day and said: "Daddy, I want to be like you in every way."

What would you say?

I'd need to improve a lot.

I need to improve a lot before I can have that conversation with him.

Are you currently a good role model for him?

No.

Definitely not.

This is what I call Therapy of Reality.

The idea is for them to remove their masks and realize that they did something wrong and that's why they've lost their freedom.

I'm sad because I'm apart from my son.

I took his mother away, and she was a great mother to him, and now I'm not present in his life, either.

- How old is he?

- Five.

I was raised by my mother alone, and I'd go see my father in prison.

I don't now exactly why, but I started to get involved with crime.

I did a lot of bad things.

But that's not what I want for my son.

When I get out of here, I want him to go to school and graduate.

so he can be somebody in life.

I'll teach him to do the right thing.

so he won't mess up like his old man.

Because my own father made mistakes, and instead of being different or better than him, I ended up being a little worse.

Many arrive here extremely angry, looking for somebody to blame.

The judge, or society, or anything else.

However, after some time their rhetoric changes.

If you could go back... What's your name?

- Deilon.

- Deilon.

Deilon, if you could go back... What would you do when you found out your wife was cheating on you?

What I should have done before; left her and found another woman.

Were you on drugs?

Yes, but it was my medication that made me confused.

and one day I lost it and grabbed her by the throat.

But if I could go back, I woudn't do it again.

I never tell them they are wrong.

They say it themselves: "Socorro, I made a mistake.

I choose poorly."

"It's my own fault I'm here."

If they don't want to talk about their crimes, they won't.

But one day they will.

And I will listen.

Just listen.

In my silence, they know I love them.

[traffic sounds] [birds] My family are victims.

I had a sister who was murdered by her ex-husband leaving behind a river of sorrow.

He's at APAC.

He's being treated well.

He's receiving psychological assistance.

He's being helped.

There were many cases of femicide here.

She was the fifth victim in a row.

it was like a massacre of women.

What about my nephews, the real victims, the ones my sister left?

Who is helping them?

Some days it really weighs on me.

It's like a movie playing through my mind.

It could have been avoided.

You know?

I still haven't been able to forgive myself.

I could ask APAC why they don't welcome all of us.

I want a proper explanation.

Not just me, but my whole family.

I want to free the person I have become since my sister's death.

Dr. Mário wrote a book called "Be a Solution, Not a Victim."

This book describes dozens of cases, of reconciliation between victims and offenders.

I can say that in my 36 years of experience, the most beautiful moments I've witnessed at APAC were those in which the victim and the offender met and reconciled.

APAC is home to forgiveness.

APAC is home to reconciliation.

APAC is home to mercy.

I once had a cellmate whose wife was a recuperanda at the female APAC.

He asked if I was single, and if I wanted to write to a friend of his wife, who was also a recuperanda and I said yes.

[tapping] One day I received a letter from Bruno, who was at the men's APAC.

So we started writing each other, as friends.

I could see from our letters that we had similar intentions.

And that her plans for the future were the same as mine.

Once during a special event, she was brought over from the women's APAC, and we finally met in person.

It was love at first sight.

So we started dating.

See how things are, little bee?

You were worried I wouldn't like you because you are 'chubby,' and I was afraid you'd find me ugly.

Thankfully it worked out.

I had never experienced such a lovely, smooth kiss.

God must have been preparing this moment for many years, as it was so sublime, so special.

I already liked you before; now I am in love.

From now on, I'm in your hands.

Take care.

And take care of me.

A sweet kiss from your boyfriend, Bruno.

And one fine day he asked me to marry him.

It wasn't really the wedding of our dreams.

We were both in handcuffs, but love can overcome anything.

The handcuffs didn't embarrass us, nor could they stop us.

On the contrary... they made us stronger.

This year is our 5th wedding anniversary.

I was released on parole in 2015.

Then I came to Itaúna and waited for him.

God granted us a daughter who turned a year old in January 2019. and that's the main reason why I want to turn my life around completely.

I want to get out, find a job and look after my wife and kids.

Good evening!

I got a job as a Security Inspector at the female APAC.

[drawer] [steps] [beep] I inspect the building...

I inquire if any recuperanda needs my help.

I check on everythng to see if there are any problems to solve.

You have to listen.

You have to be a psychologist to them... A mother... A little of everything.

I was born in the countryside, with a midwife.

My mother had to abandon the family so my father wouldn't kill her.

I was one year old.

So my father raised us.

When I was 8 or 9, he got sick.

Then he passed away.

I was around 10 years old.

That's when my siblings from his first marriage took me to the city.

I wanted to meet my mother very badly.

She had a new family.

And her husband tried to...

He wanted to abuse me.

When I told her, she said that was between me and him.

I spent that night out in the cold.

One day, a man I had met about 2 months before asked me to go with him to the city of Pará de Minas.

At the time I wasn't aware that the plan was to throw drugs and cellphones into a prison.

We had 27 cellphones with chargers and SIM cards, as well as 4 kg of drugs.

The guy made a run for it.

Then the police came, insulting me and beating me, I couldn't speak because a cop was stepping on my back.

He was pressing hard, I could barely breathe.

I was sentenced to 7 years.

I was in state prison for a year and seven months.

One day I found out I was HIV positive.

That was another serious blow.

I just wanted to die.

I attempted suicide at the time.

That's where I first heard about APAC.

I have no words to express how great APAC has been in my life.

[birds chirping] An ex- recuperando comes to mind.

He served time at APAC more than once.

He always felt fine at APAC, but whenever he was released, he always relapsed.

During one of his conditional releases he was shot 3 times and killed.

But I went to his wake, and I felt like I had failed him.

It was as if my love had failed.

My love wasn't strong enough to illuminate the dark corners and the solitude in that young man's heart.

Then I realized that love could only fail if I had abandoned the cause, or given up.

It certainly wasn't easy.

In the first 8 years, I was sued 17 times I was accused of everything you can imagine.

I received death threats for months on end.

But nothing, absolutely nothing, could shake our unwavering belief in the recovery of human beings.

APAC's methodology can be implemented anywhere in the world, and that's because of a simple reason: we are dealing with human beings.

It's a method intended for people who are deprived of their freedom, people who have committed a criminal offense.

And that exists anywhere in the world, whether it is in the US, or Europe, anywhere.

What the legislators want is for their punishment to achieve its goal, which is retribution but more importantly re-socializing.

to allow that person to coexist with others again.

I can't think of anywhere in the world where people don't want to see a criminal becoming a person who's useful to society again.

[music] [voices][ [light traffic] [music] I'm aware that I've been on a journey.

I learned a lot, and I use a lot of what I've learned in my family life.

[music] [child laughing] My wife served 5 years, was released, then 'served' another 4 years waiting for me to get out.

It's true, though.

I think a lot of recuperandos have no idea.

Relatives often feel more imprisoned than the inmates themselves.

Because you're constantly wondering if they're all right, how they're sleeping, or eating, if they're healthy...

Inmates rarely stop and wonder how their relatives on the outside are doing, because we think freedom is everything.

Now that I'm free I can see that it's not.

Life out here is very different.

Life can be very hard when you're trying to be honest and dignIfied.

But it's gratifying to get home and see that your wife has made some coffee that your daughter wants to play, that your son is healthy.

[talking to child] [child babbling] I never experienced this kind of family life, so now I want to enjoy every moment.

I want to be there for them like they were there for me.

I want to return the companionship they've shown me.

I know it won't be easy to regain everyone's trust.

[music] I learned that I won't regain anyone's trust with words It'll be with my attitude.

By looking after my family, going to work, taking care of my home.

Good morning, Marina.

Bye!

I want to be an inspiration to other recuperandos .

To people who are out on the streets, struggling with drugs and alcohol, from broken families...

I want to show them it's possible.

[hitting with mattock] I never worked before, so I don't have a profession.

I currently work as a laborer.

It's not my dream job, but I can help to provide for our home and we can live a happy life.

My wages are low, but it's much more gratifying to be able to walk proudly with my family.

anywhere we want to go.

[pouring water] I have a strong desire in my heart to become an APAC volunteer and hopefully one day an employee in order to show that recovery is an option for everyone.

It's not impossible.

As bad as the crime committed may have been, any person can change their mentality and turn their life around, and show society that they are valuable, that they can do more for their neighbor.

What distinguishes APAC, what makes it God's work... ...is love.

To experience love and being loved.

But oftentimes, it just happens [clapping] instead of loving and being loved, people experience rejection.

Because what is crime?

Crime is the experience of rejection taken to the extreme.

Crime is a cry from help from someone who is saying, "I am here!

See me!"

"Love me!

Take me in!"

When a person experiences rejection instead of love they yearn for love from the cradle to the grave.

At APAC we help the inmates to have this transcendent experience.

APAC has taught me a more dignified way to serve time, and that we shouldn't be afraid to make mistakes.

I will never give up on you!

[clapping] We change all the time!

Why can't someone who is serving time change too?

When someone is interested in changing their life and they are offered something like what APAC can offer them, which is a change of their core values, I'm sure... that anyone can change.

We have to believe in everything the human being is capable of.

[music] God won't ask me how many people I've recovered.

God will ask me, "Valdeci, did you love?"

That will be the crucial question.

"Did you love?"

To everyone at APAC, "Did you love?"

If you remove love from the equation, then APAC becomes just another NGO.

Or a business.

And love has to be nurtured, otherwise it dies out.

[music] Today there are thousands of men and women who arrived at APACs physically ill, psychologically damaged, and spiritually dead.

People who were considered the garbage of society.

Those who had no more chances at recovery.

But by the grace of God, and due to the volunteers' work and the methodology those people ate today living in society, all over cities where we have APACs.

So, I'm totally convinced that APAC... is the temple for prisoners' recovery.

[music] [children voices] [music] [birds chirping] [music] [children voices] [music]