Antranik Tavitian

Stephan Pantallion sits in a visitation block during an interview at Clemens Unit, Monday, March 18, 2024, in Brazoria. Pantallion, from Southwest Houston, has been in the Texas justice system since he was 11. “I was angry,” Stephan said. “Where I came from, the only thing we do is fight.” At the heart of his rage, he said, was his father, who was never in his life. “A lot of us didn’t have dads growing up.”Storm Summary: Texas is one of only four states that automatically transfers 17-year-olds to the adult justice system.Stephan Pantillion felt he never really got a chance to change his behavior. He was raised by his grandmother because his mother was alternately sick and in Texas Department of Criminal Justice herself. “I was worried about my grandma. My mom was in TDC, so it’s like, it’s just an ongoing cycle. I had to go help them. I felt like I was the man of the house. I felt like I had to provide for them.”Going back and forth from the juvenile system since the age of 11 until at the age of 17 he was sentenced to three years for a stealing a car and drug possession. His daughter Kehlani was born July 16, while Pantillion was still in juvenile detention. “I remember that exact day,” he said. “I don’t need to be here no more. I need to hurry up and change.”

Stephan Pantallion walks out of the Pam Lychner State Jail after serving three years, Friday, May 10, 2024, in Houston. Pantallion, the last to be released in a group of over a hundred inmates, had no one to pick him up.

Stephan Pantallion, still wearing his jail slippers, is escorted to a van that will take him to the Greyhound station in Houston’s East End neighborhood, Friday, May 10, 2024, in Houston.

Stephan Pantallion enjoys his first meal after being released from jail, Friday, May 10, 2024, in Houston. A local organization which is the first contact for many formally incarcerated people provided him with the meal and spoke to him about religion and staying on the with path.

Stephan Pantallion, along with another a friend from jail, cross the street, Friday, May 10, 2024, in Houston. Pantallion refused the invitation from other people to jaywalk across the street out of fear of violating parole. “I just don’t want trouble man.”

Stephan Pantallion exits a Payday Loans after withdrawing money put in his commissary for post-jail travels, Friday, May 10, 2024, in Houston.

Stephan Pantallion argues with his grandmother over the phone as he asks her to pick him up, Friday, May 10, 2024, in Houston. He asked if his ex-partner, the mother of his child, could come over, but his mother refused out of concern that they’d bring trouble. Pantallion spoke about wanting to be a different person after he left jail. One of the few belongings he brought with him was a bible, where he wrote his grandmother’s current address.

Stephan Pantallion smiles as he peaks through the peep hole of his grandmothers apartment, Friday, May 10, 2024, in Houston. He hadn’t been home for almost three years.

Stephan Pantallion holds up his nephew Cairo,1, after getting to his grandmother’s home, Friday, May 10, 2024, in Houston. Cairo’s father, Pantallion’s older brother, was supposed to be home, but he was detained and sent to jail awaiting his arraignment. The brothers haven’t seen each other for nearly a decade due to overlapping jail stints.

Rodney Wilson, at left, welcomes Stephan Pantallion back to the neighborhood, Friday, May 10, 2024, in Houston. The two grew up together while Pantallion was in the Push Up gang of Southwest Houston. “Most of us was Crips, most of us was Bloods – that was all we knew, was gangbanging.” Pantallion expressed his concern over his safety. “That’s the only part I’m worried about,” he said. “I’m worried about getting killed.”

Stephan Pantallion holds his daughter Kehlani, 2, Wednesday, May 15, 2024, in Houston. “I wish I would have knew my father,” Stephan said, asked what would have made things different for him. “If I would have knew my father I feel like none of this would have happened.”