09/16/2026
Today I'd like to share the homecoming of Micah Harris...he was part of Empathy in Action from the beginning. A shining light in the darkness of Fremont dorm inside CTF Soledad where we held the program about 3 years ago. He held the space with humor, truth, and confidence. I'm honored to welcome him home and hear his story, from roots to rise. I hope to see you at the film screening my friend!
Just another hurdle by Micah Harris
Before incarceration, I was a young man who knew how to compete long before I understood how to understand myself. I grew up in Arizona, found my way into athletics, and eventually earned a scholarship to the University of Oregon, where I became an All-American 110-meter hurdler.
Track gave me a world where discipline, focus, and talent could change the course of my life. I ran at the Prefontaine Classic, competed at the Olympic Trials, trained at the Olympic Training Center, and came close to a dream I had carried for years.
But beneath those accomplishments, I was carrying unresolved pain from my childhood, my family, my environment, and the person I had learned to become in order to survive. I knew how to clear hurdles on the track, but I had not yet learned how to confront the ones inside me. Eventually, those unresolved struggles led me down a path that changed my life completely.
I spent 18 years incarcerated, and for a long time, that chapter was simply something I wanted to endure. But over time, I realized I had a choice: I could allow those years to define me, or I could use them to redefine myself. Prison became a laboratory for transformation. I studied myself and the people around me. I read, meditated, spoke, facilitated self-development work, and became more intentional about the man I wanted to become. The competitive mindset that had once helped me excel as an athlete became the same mindset that helped me survive, grow, and evolve in an entirely different environment. I began developing qualities I had not fully understood when I was youngerâempathy, self-awareness, patience, and the courage to examine my life without running from it. I learned that strength was not always about being the toughest person in the room. Sometimes, strength meant being honest with yourself when no one else was watching. Those 18 years took a great deal from me, but they also gave me perspective, discipline, and a deeper understanding of what it means to rebuild.
When I came home in March 2024, I realized that freedom was not the finish line; it was the starting line. I had to learn how to live in a world that had continued moving while I was away. Employment, housing, technology, relationships, finances, networking, and the simple question of where I belonged became a new set of hurdles. I began rebuilding through work and eventually found myself helping others navigate employment and opportunity while creating new opportunities for myself. I stepped back into spaces I never imagined I would see againâfashion, sports, entertainment, events, networking, and entrepreneurship. I showed up at fashion shows, award events, gifting lounges, and professional gatherings not as someone asking for permission to belong, but as someone learning how to create his own lane. Each experience taught me something. Slowly, I began to understand that my past was not something I needed to hide. It was part of the perspective, resilience, and purpose I carried into every room.
That realization became the foundation for what I am creating now. Drip Line began as a clothing idea, but it has grown into something far more personal. It represents the line between who you were and who you are becomingâthe space between your past and your next chapter. A hat can be a crown. A hoodie can carry a message. A brand can become a reminder that your circumstances do not get the final word. Today, I am building across fashion, entrepreneurship, real estate, wellness, sports, entertainment, and eventually event production, while continuing to use my story to help others believe that a comeback is possible.
I no longer see my life as three separate chaptersâbefore, during, and after. I see it as one story, with every chapter preparing me for the next. The athlete taught me how to compete. The incarcerated man taught me how to reflect. Coming home taught me how to build. Now, I am learning something even greater: I do not have to spend the rest of my life proving who I was. I have the power to decide who I become.
The hurdles did not disappear. I became the person capable of clearing them.
Just another hurdle. Master your comeback.