By amigoponc on Skatehive
We often talk about the ‘comfort zone’ as that physical or emotional space where we feel safe, but we rarely stop to think about what happens when that zone not only disappears, but is torn down by a terrible injustice. Our friends at Silver Bloggers invite us this week to reflect on those moments when we were out of our comfort zone and how that turned into something positive. My story is not one of an uncomfortable journey or a change of job; it is the story of how eleven years in the shadows of Venezuela’s prisons forced me to be reborn. *How the abyss became my law school My comfort zone vanished one ordinary day, following an anonymous call from a woman’s voice. Without any evidence, I was accused of a crime I did not commit. In the blink of an eye, I went from being an ordinary citizen (a teacher) to a number in file 9942. Three years after my arrest, whilst reading through my own case file, I discovered to my horror a confession signed with my name and bearing my fingerprints –