06/06/2026
As my charitable nonprofit, the Transformative Justice Center, and our flagship program, Empathy in Action, continue to grow and receive more attention, I wanted to take a moment to introduce myself and share a little of the story behind this work.
My name is Megan McDrew, and for the last 13 years, I’ve been going inside California state prisons—first as a volunteer, then as a sociology instructor, and now as the founder of the Transformative Justice Center and creator of Empathy in Action.
Every week, year-round, I bring members of the public into prison with me. Together, we sit in circles with incarcerated men and women to build bridges of empathy, accountability, healing, and hope. What began as a volunteer experience eventually became a calling. Today, it feels as natural to me as raising my children, practicing yoga, or spending time outdoors.
I was raised in suburban Walnut Creek, in a predominantly white, middle-class community. I followed the expected path: get good grades, play sports, go to college. But even while I was checking all the boxes, I felt restless. I craved a different kind of life—one filled with adventure, meaning, service, and deeper questions.
After college, I took off.
I walked the Camino de Santiago across Spain alone. I joined the Peace Corps and helped build a library and community center in a rural Moroccan village. I earned a master's degree in international peace and development in Spain and later completed a second master's degree in sociology at Humboldt State University.
Along the way, I discovered yoga, which became a lifelong spiritual practice and source of grounding. More than twenty years later, I now teach yoga inside prison, one of the greatest joys of my life.
One of my most transformative experiences came while living for nearly a year in a remote Indian ashram in the Himalayas. There, I meditated daily, lived simply, and explored questions of purpose, suffering, and service. I fell deeply in love with India and the contemplative life, but I also realized I was too independent and too curious to follow anyone else's path completely.
Eventually, it was time to come home.
Back in California, I tried to settle into what many would consider a successful life. I accepted a stable job at the University of San Francisco with benefits, retirement, and security. I was thirty-two years old and thought perhaps it was finally time to become a proper adult :) But something inside me felt disconnected...
Then life unraveled...My mother, my best friend, greatest supporter, and fiercest protector, was diagnosed with aggressive lung cancer and died shortly thereafter. My wedding, scheduled just weeks later, was cancelled. The future I thought I was building disappeared almost overnight.
During that season of grief, a friend posted about volunteering inside San Quentin through a program called GRIP. I signed up immediately.
I had no idea that decision would change the course of my life.
The first time I stepped into prison in 2013, I was afraid. Like many people, I had absorbed the narrative that those inside were dangerous, broken, or beyond redemption. But within hours of meeting incarcerated men face-to-face, those assumptions began to dissolve.
What emerged instead was clarity.
For the first time, I felt I had found the place where I was supposed to be.
Since that day, I have rarely gone a week without stepping foot inside a prison or jail. Ironically, it was within those cold concrete walls that I came alive.
When you enter a prison, you encounter people whose identities have been reduced to a crime, a conviction, or a label. Murderer. Gang member. Felon. But behind every label is a human story—often shaped by trauma, abuse, addiction, poverty, neglect, violence, and systemic failure.
I began to see incarceration differently.
Our society is like a web—interconnected and fragile. Those who fall through its holes are often the most vulnerable among us. Yet rather than repair the web, we tend to warehouse the people who have been damaged by it and pretend they no longer belong.
As Bryan Stevenson writes, the true measure of justice is how we treat the poor, the disfavored, the accused, the incarcerated, and the condemned.
His work inspired me. But I wanted to go beyond understanding the problem. I wanted to be part of creating a solution.
So I created Empathy in Action.
Empathy in Action is an inside-out program where healing happens through connection rather than punishment. Volunteers and incarcerated individuals come together weekly to discuss trauma, accountability, forgiveness, courage, justice, healing, and hope. We build family circles. We listen deeply. We tell the truth. We practice being human together.
What started as a simple idea has grown into something much larger than I ever imagined.
Today, through Empathy in Action and the Transformative Justice Center, we have brought more than 700 community members inside prison walls.
We have expanded into multiple prisons, launched programs for incarcerated women, developed reentry support services, created yoga and healing initiatives inside prison, produced an award-winning documentary, and built a community dedicated to transformation rather than punishment.
Most importantly, I have watched men and women come home.
I have seen people released after decades of incarceration reunite with families, find employment, pursue education, mentor others, and build beautiful lives rooted in purpose and service.
The lesson has been simple but profound: People change when they are given the opportunity to heal, to be accountable, and to belong.
This work has changed me too.
There have been moments of exhaustion, heartbreak, loneliness, and doubt. Grants denied. Funding shortfalls. Volunteer shortages.
Personal struggles that few people saw. Times when I questioned whether I had anything left to give.
But every time I considered stepping away, I remembered the faces of the people inside waiting for us to show up. So I packed my bag, put on my Empathy in Action shirt, and went back.
Again and again.
Who am I?
I am a mother, daughter, teacher, friend, yogi, athlete, traveler, and relentless believer in the power of human connection.
I don't claim to have many answers, but I know a few things are true....It is never too late; One moment of love can alter the trajectory of an entire life; People are more than the worst thing they have ever done; AND Healing is possible.
And in the end, I don't think we will measure our lives by our titles, accomplishments, followers, or bank accounts. We will measure them by how deeply we loved, how courageously we forgave, and how willing we were to serve others.
For many years this path felt lonely.
Today, it feels different.
There is now a growing community of volunteers, incarcerated leaders, returning citizens, students, donors, partners, and friends walking beside me. Together, we are proving that empathy is not weakness. It is one of the most powerful forces for personal and social transformation.
Everything I've done—every mountain climbed, every country explored, every heartbreak endured, every prison entered, every person loved—has prepared me for this work.
If you believe that people are more than the worst thing they've ever done; if you believe healing is possible; if you believe bridges are stronger than walls; if you believe love belongs everywhere, including the places our society has forgotten, I invite you to join us.
Volunteer. Donate. Visit. Learn. Share.
Let's build a world rooted not in fear and punishment, but in empathy, accountability, service, and love.
As Howard Thurman once wrote: "Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive."
This work has made me come alive.
I hope you'll join us.
Love always,
Megan
www.transformativejusticecenter.org
06/07/2026
06/05/2026
06/03/2026
06/03/2026
06/02/2026
05/30/2026
05/29/2026
05/28/2026