From Inmate to Intellectual Property: A 3-Step Framework to Monetize Your Life Story
The "Label Lie": Why the System Profits From Your Silence
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The "Label Lie": Why the System Profits From Your Silence
10/30/2025
Date published: 10/30/2025
The world gave you a label. "Inmate." "Addict." "Failure." "Combat Vet."
They want that label to be the final chapter, the brand stamped on you by a system that profits from neat little boxes. They want you to be a statistic.
I know, because for years, I wasn't Marcus Hart. I was federal case number so-and-so, so-and-so. That number was designed to be my new identity. But what if your story—the one you've been told to hide, the one filled with trauma, mistakes, and grit—is actually your single greatest strategic asset?
I build platforms for leaders. And the most powerful leaders, the ones with unshakable authority, aren't the ones with the squeaky-clean resumes. They're the ones who have been through hell, reclaimed their identity, and forged their story into a weapon.
I recently sat down with a man who embodies this. Oswald Newbold was given a life sentence at 20 years old. He served 25 years. He's now a co-author, a conflict mediator, and a force for change.
His journey provides the perfect framework for anyone who needs to convert their lived experience into a high-impact, monetizable platform. Here's how you do it.
Before you can build, you have to understand what you're up against. You're fighting a system that needs you to fail.
My "label" was a case number. It followed me everywhere. It was designed to be the only thing people saw, the permanent disqualifier. As a combat veteran with PTSD, as a journalist, as a minister, I had to fight to undo the work the system did to my reputation.
This is the "Label Lie." It's the idea that your past is your identity. The system locks you into your worst day and tells you that's who you are forever.
Oswald Newbold dropped a truth bomb that exposes this entire con.
He pointed out that the system is obsessed with recidivism. They track it endlessly. They create policies, programs, and entire budgets around the "six out of 10 people" who go back to prison.
But Oswald asked the one question they don't want to answer: "What are the four doing that led to their success?"
The system ignores the 40% who win. It refuses to study, fund, or duplicate their success. Why? Because success isn't profitable. A system built to manage failure goes broke when people actually transform.
They need you to be one of the six. Your first job is to decide you're one of the four.
You cannot build an authority platform on an identity someone else gave you.
This was Oswald's foundational secret. When I asked him how he survived a quarter-century inside, he said:
"They gave me the title of inmate. I never accepted the title of inmate... I knew I was a man, whether I was in prison, whether I'm out here in the suit... I never lost my title as a man."
This is the internal war you must win before you can win the external one. Your authority doesn't come from a certification, a degree, or someone's permission. It comes from an internal, non-negotiable decision about who you are.
Like Oswald, I had to do the same. After I came home, I had to look in the mirror every single day and affirm who I am and who I will become, in defiance of the label the world gave me.
Becoming an "inmate" or a "statistic" isn't the end of your journey. It's a delay. It's a crucible. God doesn't waste pain. That crucible is where your most potent message is forged. But you have to be the one to claim it. You are a leader, a father, a mother, a founder, a creator. You are not a case file.
Here's the raw truth: A story by itself is not a business.
Sympathy doesn't pay the bills. Telling your story on a podcast is a good start, but it's not a strategy. To build authority, you must forge your experience into a tangible, non-negotiable asset.
You must create Intellectual Property (IP).
I asked Oswald why it was so critical to co-author his book, Breaking Chains, Building Futures, instead of just continuing to tell his story.
His answer was about legacy and impact. But the strategic answer is this: A book is an asset. It's a "strategic asset," as I call it. It takes your intangible experience and makes it a concrete, provable piece of authority.
Your IP is your framework, your 5-step system, your keynote speech, your training program, your book. It's the proof that you didn't just survive your past—you mastered it. You decoded it. And now you have a solution you can sell.
Oswald's book isn't just a memoir. It's a strategic asset. It positions him as an expert on the role of education and mentorship in reform.
He didn't just live it; he documented it. Now, instead of just being a "former inmate," he is an author and a subject matter expert. That is the power of turning your pain into IP.
Once you have your identity and your asset, you have to plant your flag.
This is the biggest mistake I see. People with powerful stories try to be an "expert on resilience" or an "expert on overcoming."
That's too broad. It's a feeling, not a solution.
When I talked with Oswald, I pointed this out. You can't be an expert on resilience. You have to be an expert on a specific solution.
Oswald didn't just re-enter society. He planted a flag. He calls himself a "conflict mediator" and a "criminal justice reformer." He's the self-proclaimed "#1 S--- Starter" who gets in the rooms with lawmakers and forces the difficult conversations.
That is a niche. That is an undeniable platform.
He took the grit he learned inside and aimed it at a specific problem.
You must do the same. What specific, tangible problem does your story solve for a specific audience? Are you helping veterans navigate the VA? Are you helping entrepreneurs overcome the trauma of a business failure? Are you, like me, helping leaders build media platforms?
Get specific. Plant your flag. That's your hill.
There's one final trap. After you beat the odds and build your platform, the very system that tried to break you will try to use you.
They'll invite you to the table. They'll give you an award. They'll write you a check to be their "token" success story.
Oswald said it best: "We got all the passion when we broke, but when we get the money... we don't wanna step on toes."
He refuses. "I'm not a token piece for anybody... I'm not gonna sit in the table and sit silent. They have to get somebody else to tap dance. I'm not a tap dancer."
This is the final test of authority. Authority isn't just being known; it's being trusted. The moment you trade your raw, authentic voice for a check, you lose the very thing that built your platform.
Your story—the grit, the trauma, the failure, the redemption—is not your liability. It is your ultimate qualifier. It's the E-E-A-T (Experience, Expertise, Authoritativeness, and Trustworthiness) that Google and, more importantly, people are desperately looking for.
You've done the internal work. You've lived a story most people only see in movies. Now it's time to package it.
Your story is the most valuable IP you own. But a story without a strategy is just a memory.
If you're ready to stop being a statistic and start building an empire, you need a framework. You need a way to turn your mess into your message and your message into a monetizable mission.
It starts with identifying your unique authority.
Take my Free Authority Assessment today. It’s a simple, 2-minute quiz that will help you clarify your message, identify your niche, and find the flag you were born to plant.
[Link: Take the Free Authority Assessment Now]