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why we don't give up

5 minutes ago
5 min read

Top Host recently reached out to ask if we'd like to enter their competition.


We get approached quite a bit about marketing and advertising opportunities, but frankly, we don't make money from this podcast. Nor was it ever intended to make money.


Our philosophy has always been pretty simple: if our message is right and our content is authentic, hopefully people will share it, and the Inspiration FML message will spread.


But when someone offers us a free opportunity to get that message out there... we're all in.


Now, admittedly, the goal of the Top Host competition is to raise funds for Ryan Seacrest's Children's Foundation, which builds media and broadcast studios in children's hospitals. If you know my personal story, you'll understand why children's hospitals hold a special place in my heart. So this was certainly something we could get behind.


The competition has been running for a while, but I've been apprehensive about sharing it. In a world of rampant scams, I wanted to be absolutely certain it was legitimate.


Turns out it is. So here I am, sharing it.


But there's a much bigger story behind why this matters to us.


The three of us who started this podcast have lived very different lives. What we share is that we've all spent much of our lives building things that help build others up.


We also share something else.


We've all been through various levels of hell.


And one of us is currently in prison, living through a hell none of us ever imagined.


Inspiration FML began as Founders Music Lab. I was a founder who had recently lost his business, and Steve was a musician facing charges related to something that had happened eighteen years earlier.


We were both very much in the "F'My Life" phase.


Ed joined us shortly afterward. He was going through a divorce and experiencing his own version of FML.


We were three guys getting together regularly, talking about life, and making sure each other was okay.

T

hen others started joining us. People with their own struggles, setbacks, and stories.


And man, did that help.


Not just us. Them too.


We kept saying we should record these conversations because there were probably a lot of people out there who needed to hear them.


So we started a podcast.


With no idea what was going to happen with Steve, we pushed forward.


Steve was our recording genius. When he went to prison, it was suddenly up to me to figure out all the technical stuff. He did everything he could to prepare me, and Ed and I carried on.


But the technical challenges were nothing compared to the emotional ones.


The public condemnation, the sensationalized media coverage, and our experiences with the justice system were incredibly difficult to endure.


We watched Steve and his family suffer. And the fallout affected us, too.

There were people who saw everything in black and white, with no room for context, complexity, or the possibility that someone could have done something wrong and still have good in them.


That was perhaps the hardest part to accept.


But we persevered.


Steve and his family were enduring the worst of it. I wasn't sure whether I could keep

the podcast going, and Ed had plenty on his own plate.


Still, giving up wasn't an option.


Not on a friend.


Not on a mission.


And certainly not on something that was doing so much good for others.


Steve received the maximum sentence of five years for sexual exploitation involving a relationship that occurred eighteen years earlier. While the relationship was described as consensual, Steve was in a position of authority, and that made it wrong.


I don't dismiss that.


But I have struggled to reconcile the severity of his sentence with other cases I've seen, including cases involving what I consider far more predatory behaviour.

It's difficult to understand. But like sports, we don't always get to agree with the referees.


What matters now is what happens next.


And this is where Steve's story becomes something remarkable.


Steve is an amazing person. That doesn't mean he's perfect. None of us are.


While at Millhaven, he was assaulted badly enough to require emergency medical attention. He survived and was subsequently transferred to medium security.

Once there, he and his wife noticed something troubling. New inmates and their spouses were struggling to navigate a complicated correctional system, often with very little information or guidance.


So they created a guide to help.


Why something like this wasn't already readily available is beyond me.


Steve also began helping other inmates work toward earning their high school diplomas.


Even in prison, even while dealing with his own circumstances, he was finding ways to help other people.


Eventually, he was transferred to minimum security.


And that's where something wonderful started happening.


With greater freedom and access to resources, Steve began teaching inmates music, helping them form bands, and using the recording studio to help them capture their own creations.


You would be amazed at the talent that exists behind prison walls.


Think about that for a moment.


A man who lost his freedom, his reputation, and so much of the life he knew is now helping others discover talents, develop skills, and find a little inspiration in one of the most unlikely places imaginable.


That's the Steve I know.


And that's why I don't give up on him.


That's why I don't give up on Inspiration FML.


And that's why I don't give up on people who need to know that, even when life has unleashed everything it has on you, there's still hope.


There's still an opportunity to do good.


There's still an opportunity to make a difference.


And there's still an opportunity to inspire someone else.


I'm hopeful Steve will be granted early parole, I have no doubt about that, and likely within the next six months. Knowing the contributions he's making and the positive relationships he's developed with correctional officers gives me reason to be optimistic.


We took a hiatus over the summer, but Ed and I are heading back into the studio next week to begin recording again.


Because somewhere out there, someone is going through their own FML moment.


And maybe, just maybe, hearing someone else's story will help them get through it.


That's why we started this podcast. And that's why we won't stop.


If you believe in helping people navigate the journey from F'My Life to Fix My Life to Find My Life, we'd appreciate your support.


Please vote for us in the Top Host competition, and more importantly, please share our story. You never know who might need to hear it.


Thanks for being fellow FMLers!


Your Friend, Bill Waters

 
 
 

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