When Lyle Menendez first showed up for my class at Richard J. Donovan prison, I was only familiar with his trial from the media. By the time his brother, Erik Menendez, arrived a few years later, I had a better understanding of the abuse the brothers experienced and the depth of their genuine remorse.
For the last eight years, I have facilitated rehabilitative programming inside prisons for the Anti-Recidivism Coalition’s Hope and Redemption Program. Led by formerly incarcerated people like myself, I help people in prison confront their trauma, take accountability and gain insight into the harm they’ve caused, preparing them to be found suitable for parole.
Despite their recent parole denials, the Menendez brothers now have hope for the first time, and their story has ignited a meaningful conversation about the true meaning of second chances.
While they won’t be going home yet, their resentencing and parole hearings gave them what they once thought impossible: hope. Once sentenced to life without parole, they carried the belief that they would die in prison without ever being able to show how they had changed. The parole board gave them a three-year denial, which is the shortest possible, and they could return to the parole board in just 18 months with good behavior.
Some argue that how these brothers murdered their parents should bar them from ever being released, but I’ve witnessed their growth firsthand. In my class, they expressed deep remorse and taken full responsibility for their actions. While their denial is a setback, it means they will continue to put in the hard work in the months and years to come.
In our program, we examine Adverse Childhood Experiences, including childhood trauma, toxic masculinity and the belief systems that once fueled our worst choices. The abuse Lyle and Erik suffered as boys, allegedly from their father, challenges the harmful myth that men can’t be victims of sexual assault, a stigma that continues to silence too many.
They have grappled with their childhood and how it has shaped the harm they caused, while growing as men in the process. Through accountability, I’ve seen the brothers shed their old masks and embrace remorse as the foundation for growth. From my own journey, I know this inner work is among the hardest things a person can do.
Like Lyle and Erik, I was sentenced during the tough-on-crime era and served 25 years on a 15-to-life sentence. I felt hopeless until my daughter visited and asked if I’d ever hold her again. That moment changed me, and I committed to becoming the father she believed I could be. I was released over 10 years ago and have since become a living example of true redemption.
I was denied four times before I was finally found suitable, but the hope of coming home kept me going through each rejection, and I returned each time with more progress until I was able to regain my freedom. Last year, only 14% of people were granted parole. But when people do the work and earn their freedom, they rarely return (the recidivism rate for those released on parole is less than 2%).
The Menendez brothers were originally sentenced to life without the possibility of parole, a de facto death sentence. A resentencing by a judge earlier this year gave these brothers their first chance at parole. Today, we have a better understanding of brain development and the capacity for people to change, especially those who were young when they committed their crimes. No matter how much they grew or changed, there was no path to freedom. After 35 years believing they would die in prison, they now carry a renewed hope to begin the next chapter of their lives.
Yet far too many individuals — particularly those sentenced as young people — remain locked into this hopeless sentence. Senate Bill 672, the Youth Rehabilitation and Opportunity Act, authored by Sen. Susan Rubio, D-West Covina, could offer hope to people who are sentenced to die in prison if it passes. The bill would allow certain individuals (those who were sentenced to life without parole before the age of 26 who have served at least 25 years of their sentence) a chance at parole.
In the years since their trial, California has learned that punishment alone doesn’t make us safer. The governor has dismantled death row’s gas chambers and introduced the California Model, inspired by Norway’s approach that prioritizes rehabilitation over punishment. Today, California’s prison population is at its lowest since the late 1980s, and the state has announced it will close its fifth prison.
The public’s interest in the story of the Menendez brothers stems not only from society’s belief in redemption, but also from a desire to see more people given that chance. Although they won’t be coming home yet, for the first time, they can carry hope. Their story has cast new light on male survivors of sexual assault, showing that more people can confront trauma, overcome shame and break free from stigma.
David Amaya is a former lifer. For the past decade, he has supported at-risk youth and justice-impacted people through preventative and restorative programs. He now serves as director of the Hope and Redemption Program at the Anti-Recidivism Coalition.
