For the past two years now, Troy White has been teaching a version of his Beyond Barriers program at the Cass County Jail every Wednesday as a volunteer.
“The results have far exceeded what I imagined,” White said. “Over time, I have seen and heard about significant behavioral changes from the men.”
According to White, most of the men in the program are repeat offenders and “have lived a life of violence, drugs, and, crime most of their lives.” They have also experienced several different treatment programs, counseling, and therapy in the past that had failed to make an impact. “Over time, they started openly sharing their struggles and getting pretty vulnerable, which was surprising in a room full of 50 other inmates,” White said. “The men who attend the class began mentoring other inmates and getting them to come to the class. They would share with me how the program was impacting their lives and I often get a ‘thank you’ from a spouse, girlfriend, or a mother because even in jail, they were seeing a significant change in their behavior. They shared with me how the program was not only changing their lives but it was impacting the culture in the jail itself. They were walking away from fights and other inmates who attended the class were supportive in de-escalating situations. They reported to me that guards were taking notice and that they were seeing fights less frequently. They consistently told me that this was the most effective class they have ever taken.”
Bringing Cognitive Transformation to the Cass County Jail
White, who also works with schools, corporate clients, and nonprofits, created his cognitive transformation model to help people break away from the negative thought patterns that drive their behavior.
“With my company, Upstream, I work with a wide range of people—from CEOs and highperforming executives to moms, dads, and even kids,” White said. According to White, his curriculum is about diving into the roots of why people think, feel, and react the way they do.
White started this work with people recovering from addiction. He developed a course for a recovery organization in Moorhead.
“It felt incredibly rewarding,” he said. “I’ve seen firsthand how effective this approach can be. My own past was filled with domestic violence and abuse. That was my normal growing up, and I needed answers to understand it all. Growing up, my dad suffered from alcoholism and when he drank, he’d become violent, filled with rage. He was a police officer in a small town, so if you called 911, his friends on the force wouldn’t show up. There were nights he’d call, drunk, threatening to kill us. My mom, my sister, and I would have to get out of the house or hide. I even made a hiding spot for us under the steps in our apartment, just in case. Other times, he’d call and say he was going to kill himself, warning that if anyone came to help, he’d kill them first, then himself. I’d sit for hours, trying to reason with him as he swung from crying to rage. He’d do that over and over and finally pulled the trigger, listening silently to me crying and frantically calling his name. When I look back, it’s hard to comprehend. But I needed to understand. So, eventually, I came up with this Cognitive Transformation Model
that allows you to visually see and understand why we think, feel, and behave the way we do.”
A Message From Troy White
Given the success of the program, the demand and need for additional services is becoming evident and has reached a point they can no longer be ignored. Each week several of the men ask if I can meet with them one-on-one. I did, so as time allowed, but it’s hard to say no when I can see how much they’re struggling and they tell you how much this has helped them. I was also asked when I’m going to offer the program to the women and was recently presented with the opportunity to provide the program at the Clay County Jail. I was feeling pulled in this direction and began looking for ways to fund the program. Recently, I partnered with a nonprofit organization to provide the program which has allowed me to expand the “Beyond the Barriers” program in the Clay County Jail, the women inmates in Cass County Jail, and meet one-on-one with inmates. We are also working on ways for individuals to continue the program when they get out of jail. If this program had just a 30% success rate and I see roughly 600 inmates per year, it would be a savings of $410,400 per year for Cass County. That is 600 inmates per year x $114 per inmate day x 6 weeks average stay x 0.3. This doesn’t take into account the cumulative financial effects of them not returning multiple times in the future and stopping the generational trauma which creates more future inmates. I believe the success rate will be much higher, especially with additional services.”
However, White didn’t entirely come up with the model on his own. He formulated it while trying to face his own struggles with severe anxiety, depression, and undiagnosed PTSD. According to White, he went through everything, including hypnotherapy, counseling and sessions with psychologists and psychiatrists. Eventually, he took a course on cognitive restructuring and had an eyeopening experience.
“I was blown away at the idea that you could actually change the way you think,” White said. “The model they taught made sense, but I felt like there was more to uncover, so I dove into researching cognitive behavioral therapy, its effectiveness over traditional talk therapy, and how it impacts our thought processes and eventually came up with my model.”
White first utilized the model when he was a guest speaker at the Cass County Jail in 2019.
“I remember one guy from the jail who came up after my talk and asked if it would really work for him,” White said. “I told him, ‘If you want it to, yes, it will.’ A year later, he called and told me he was doing well, working, and was searching for something like this in Minneapolis but couldn’t find anything, and we started working together online. The transformation he went through was incredible—he went from front-page news for all the wrong reasons to absolutely thriving. His family even noticed and wanted to know what was behind the change. He later told me that on the night I visited the jail, he had planned to end his life, but our conversation gave him hope. That experience made me realize I wanted to bring this program to more people in jail. I found out about a skills training program for jails and reached out, offering to volunteer. I started going in on Wednesday nights, and named the program ‘Beyond the Barriers,’ and I’ll admit, I was nervous. Speaking to CEOs is one thing, but these guys—tough-looking guys with tattoos, often in for serious offenses—I wasn’t sure how it would go. But I shared my story with them, explained the cognitive model, and they were incredibly receptive.”
In those two years, according to White, there have been a number of positive anecdotes that showcase just how much the program is helping.
“One inmate told me he hadn’t seen a fight in his pod in six months… One inmate told his wife the real reason he cheated was because of deep insecurities… These aren’t the sorts of the things you expect from people in jail. These guys weren’t just suppressing emotions; they were actually addressing the core of their issues. They began sharing openly, supporting each other in ways that surprised even them.”
“This model isn’t just about behavior—it digs into why we feel, think, and react the way we do,” White said. “People are only aware of about 5% of their thoughts, and we have thousands every day. Most of us are just reacting without understanding why. This model helps people become aware, understand the root of their issues, and actually change their thinking patterns. And as we go through the curriculum, we apply this model over and over allowing them to process their thoughts and emotions in real-time.”
Q & A with Anthony Rodriguez, Beyond Barriers Program Participant
Anthony Rodriguez has lived a difficult life and he has made major mistakes. In 2015, he pleaded guilty to manslaughter for beating a man to death who had been accused by his younger brother of years of sexual assault. Rodriguez served his time, got out in 2022, and continued to make mistakes. Until January of 2023, when he found the Beyond the Barriers program.
Q: What have you been up to since completing the Beyond Barriers Program?
A: Right now I’m working as a cook—I just got this job. Usually, I work in construction, but right now, I’m really focused on working on my mental health. I’m trying to get back on my feet, with goals I need to accomplish. It’s tough to do that if I’m constantly away from home, and out of town all the time for construction jobs. So, I found something a bit more laidback—a job that lets me work solid hours, get things done, and still have the space to take care of myself and focus on what I need to achieve.
Q: What personal goals are You trying to accomplish?
A: I need to get my license back. I’m really just trying to get back on my feet—to gain some independence. It’s been tough, especially since I was incarcerated for seven years. When I got out, I had no cognitive skills, no communication skills; I didn’t even want to talk to people. I was just constantly defending myself. I got out in 2022 and felt real institutionalized—I couldn’t even walk into a Walmart without feeling on edge and ready to fight.
Finding a place to stay was a whole other struggle. Nobody would rent to me, because I had a record with drug charges and everything. I kept getting rejected, and eventually, I went back to what I knew—getting high and selling. It was all I knew to cope, because I had no coping skills. I didn’t have the mindset I have now. I slipped back into addiction and things just spiraled; I lost everything. I had a car from tattooing work when I first got out, but I lost it all. I ended up back in jail, right back where I started.
It was a dark place.
I’ve been through so much—conflict, addiction, and resentment. I was holding onto so much hate, so much pain. Growing up, we didn’t talk about stuff like that; you just dealt with it. And for me, that meant getting high, but it only made things worse. When I went back to jail, I hit this point where I just broke down and prayed, ‘God, if you’re listening, help me. Help me, because I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m tired of fighting.’ I prayed for forgiveness, for grace—for myself and everyone who had wronged me.
I started going to every program I could, but one really stood out: Troy’s. I looked forward to it every week because it really got me thinking differently. I actually distanced myself from old friends, sat there, and listened. The way he broke things down made me realize that I didn’t have to keep thinking the way I was conditioned to. I could see things differently, work on myself, and find new ways of thinking. I really got something out of that program, and sharing my story with others helped me too.
It’s crazy, but the more I shared, the more people opened up to me. Even some of the older guys came to thank me, telling me how much it helped them. People told me I was a leader, that I was meant for something more. It feels good. And that desire to do better, to help others—it’s not just about me anymore. If I can make a difference, if I can be of service to anyone, that’s what I want to do.
Q: What about the program really resonated with you?
A: Basically how we broke it down… If you have one thought and you keep thinking about it over and over, it’s going to get embedded in your mind. But Troy broke it down in a way that helped me understand it and helped me learn how to really work on it and overcome it. Troy showed me how to change my thinking, and that’s what I did every day.
For example, I addressed my anger. If I’d find myself getting angry, instead of reacting and doing what I’d usually do, I started taking a step back. I wouldn’t let my anger drive me; I’d go sit in my room and think about it. I’d ask myself, ‘What got me so angry? Why am I giving this person so much control over me?’ I’d sit alone, reflect, and then come back to the situation. And then I’d apologize. I’d say, ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come at you that way. I’m really trying to work on myself.’ Over time, by doing that again and again, it got easier to manage.
It was the same with my social skills. I used to get such bad anxiety; I couldn’t talk to people like I do now. And I thought to myself, ‘Are you just going to keep being this way, or are you going to do something about it?’ Because if you don’t change, you’re not going to get anywhere. So I started making it a point to talk to someone every day. I’d get up in the morning, approach someone, and say, ‘Hey, how’s your day? How’s it going? This is who I am, this is where I come from.’ It became a sort of fellowship, and I made it a normal thing every day to talk to at least three people. I got out of my comfort zone, conditioning myself in a new way.
I had to address these things because I knew they weren’t normal. Looking at how I grew up, I could see that I needed to change. And breaking it down like that really helped me.
Q: When were you first exposed to the program?
A: In January of 2023 after I went back in after being out for five months.
Q: What were you addicted to?
A: Meth and occasionally drinking
I guess it wasn’t just the drugs I was addicted to, but the pain too. That pain—it intensified everything; it made me feel good in the moment. But when I’d come down, man, I just remember feeling so angry all the time. I’d be crying out of nowhere, just breaking down but still trying to hold it all together. My temper was bad—I’d snap on people easily. I think I was always looking for a love I never had.
My dad was in and out of prison, and he was an addict. He was getting high before I was even born, you know? I went through so much with him. I’ve been through raids, stayed in hotels where there were things going on that no kid should ever see—my dad getting high, weighing up dope, cooking it. Sometimes he’d get clean, and he’d be there for me as a father, really trying, but that addiction always came back. It felt like he’d be there one moment, and gone the next.
I guess I was always being passed around, you know, because my dad was in and out of prison. I stayed with most of my aunties and my grandpa. My grandpa—he was like my rock. I loved him like a dad, but with him, it was always tough love. My cousins, Joel and Jay, they always got love from him. They could go in his fridge and get whatever they wanted. But if I tried that, he’d start cussing me out. I mean, I was just six years old, but he’d be kicking me out of the house. So, I learned to get by with a tough hand early on.
I’d go around collecting cans, doing what I could to get by. It was always that tough love, and I didn’t know why. I never really felt loved, and I wondered if something was wrong with me. I was often alone, bouncing between family members.
Growing up like that—seeing that violence, that tough life—it really affected me. It left a mark. I didn’t meet my mom until 2001 when my dad went to prison for selling drugs. She came and got me then. By that time, my mom had cleaned up her life; she was married, and I met my little brother for the first time. She took care of me, provided a clean home, school clothes, everything I needed. She started getting all of us kids back together—I have five brothers and two sisters. She took care of us, but her relationship with her husband was toxic. I grew up seeing a lot of fighting, a lot of domestic violence. That made me really protective, especially over my mom. I hated watching her go through that, and I always tried to be there for her.
My mom was always caring and she made sure we had everything we needed. We never went without. As for my auntie, she took care of me too. My Auntie Campos—she’s like my second mom. She took me to Sunday school, so I knew about God, knew about Jesus, but I never really had a relationship with Him. Now, I’m working on that more, and it helps me.
Q: Can you tell me more about that?
A: When I went to jail, I started fasting and praying. It was a new thing for me, but I tried it, and it’s amazing how God really listens. While I was fasting and praying, I had these powerful dreams about seven of my family members. I’m Native American, so I also go to sweats, sing, drum, and follow my traditions. My teachings tell me to respect everyone’s beliefs, but also to expect respect for my own.
Those dreams were something else. Each one focused on a different family member and something I needed to address with them. The first dream was about my grandpa. He passed away while I was in prison, and it hit me hard. I remember going numb, acting out, and being in and out of solitary for fighting because I was trying to cope with the loss. But in the dream, he came to me as I remembered him when I was a kid, telling me he would always be there for me. It was like he was letting me know he was still with me, watching over me.
The second dream was about my dad. We’ve always had a strained relationship—both of us have struggled with addiction, and it created this wall of anger between us. I had to face that anger and find a way to let it go.
The third dream was about my auntie. She was always oppressed by my uncle, who had this bad spirit about him. My auntie is a positive person—she works hard, she prays, but he was just dragging her down, taking her spirit out of her. In the dream, I saw her finally break free, and I could see that she needed that. Now, she’s actually doing better in real life; she left him, is going to sweats, working, and starting to feel like herself again.
The last dream was about my purpose, and it involved my mom, my sister, and my little brother. In the dream, we were in this house I grew up in—a house that always felt haunted by something. At three in the morning, I woke up and saw this huge demon figure in the kitchen, watching me with these long fingers. I wasn’t scared; I went straight to my sister’s room. She was in there, crying, with my niece’s autopsy on her bed. She lost her daughter at 14 months in foster care, and that loss is something she’s never healed from—it feeds her addiction. I tried to comfort her, but I could feel that darkness around us. I went to my mom’s room, and she was lying there, looking sick and weak. I could see the shame and guilt eating away at her, all the weight of her addiction. My little brother looked up from the TV and saw her, and in that moment, I knew I needed to step up because he had no guidance. I prayed to the Great Spirit for strength, and suddenly, I saw a black wolf come out, chasing that demon away.
That’s when I realized: I may have always felt like the black sheep, but I’m actually that Black Wolf, a leader who can guide my family out from under the weight of all this pain and oppression. It was a powerful realization. I know not everyone will understand it, but it was personal to me—my relationship with Creator is unique, and that dream was a sign.
Since then, I’ve kept up with my faith. I read my Bible every day, do my daily readings, and continue going to sweats. I sing prayer songs, and I’ve even had visions during sweat ceremonies. I’ve encouraged my dad too; he’s in jail right now, working in a program and sharing things with me that he’s learning, looking inward, and starting to feel again. It’s good to see him on that path.
It’s all about practicing self-evaluation every day. It’s about looking at myself and asking, ‘What can I work on now? What’s something I’m struggling with inside?’ I take everything I’ve been through, everything my dad and I have gone through, and I apply it to myself in a way that others can learn from too.
Q: Do you have any plans to formally spread that message?
A: I want to go back to the jail—I’m working it out right now so I can go back there and speak. I’m also trying to get to a place where I can talk to the youth and share my story in any way I can. When I was at Anchorage Recovery, I couldn’t really leave for anything. I could only go out for three hours a day, three times a week, so I didn’t have much freedom to do things like that. But now, I’m hoping to make it happen.
Beyond Barriers
obeyondbarriers.com
Facebook | /iambeyondbarriers
Instagram | @iambeyondbarriers
Linkedin | /company/gobeyondbarriers