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Susan Olesek · Apr 7, 2026

Meet Dustin, The Protector

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Susan Olesek · Susan Olesek

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When he was little, Dustin didn’t dream of being a gang member or a menace to his community. He never imagined what it would be like to be a crystal meth addict, or an absent dad, and he had no fantasies of spending his twenties or thirties going in and out of county jail and prison.

When Dustin was little, he ran around in his shorts and cowboy boots, wearing a red Superman cape and a little six-shooter cap gun on his hip. “Little Dustin,” imbued himself with all the supernatural powers a child’s imagination could muster. He then climbed onto his grandparents’ old wooden picnic table, got a running start, and leaped into imaginary battles against evil. He was the invincible, adorable hero, and always one of the good guys.

As he grew, Dustin racked up a bunch of Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs). At home, he waited for someone to stand up for him. Heartbreakingly, no one could. So, he did what Enneagram Type Eight children do when they’re hurting, denied his vulnerability, and distracted himself from that painful place by finding somewhere else to be powerful. At school, he bullied the bullies as his ADHD ran amok. The teachers labeled him a troublemaker, and Dustin rejected them all before anyone could ever do that to him again.

He was the invincible, adorable hero, and always one of the good guys.

The essence of who we are is never very far away. We can travel pretty far away from “it,” but our true nature always remains intact. So, when I met him in my Enneagram course at the county jail eleven years ago, the little kid in Dustin was still very easy to sense. His eyes were lively, and his big smile took over his whole face. He may not have known what it meant to “be present,” but he had never lost that essence of aliveness. He had, however, exhausted all of the survival tactics that had kept him alive on the streets. And, he was at the point that he was willing to do something contrary to the last two decades of his life—change. He did it the way Eights decide to do pretty much everything in the beginning: abruptly and with a lot of gusto.

Dustin would keep learning to be present to himself over the years in jail and later prison. When he got out, he would relapse and forget himself, like we all do as we become more self-aware. What made Dustin a perfect prospect to become an Ambassador of Enneagram Prison Project (EPP) was not his perfect process; it was his willingness to meet himself with compassion, again and again.

Dustin has become one of the EPP Ambassadors who inspired him when he watched their videos at Elmwood Correctional Facility back in 2015. Today, he’s a devoted dad and partner, and he works full-time as EPP’s Program Manager. Every week, we go in and out of San Quentin Rehabilitation Center, the place where he once lived. During one recent session, I posed a question to the class:

“Why get present?”

I wish someone had asked me a question like this when I was younger. What is presence anyway? I think of presence as a state of being. Each of the nine Enneagram types has distinct qualities, but they’re all just versions of this one thing we call presence. Eights come to teach the rest of us about the aliveness, strength, and immediacy. When it hurts too much to keep their hearts open, Eights cut everyone off, including themselves. They start faking presence by acting tough and pretending not to care. It’s all an act, an intelligent cover for someone who feels powerless to change the situation.

Dustin was my co-pilot in the course I was guiding, so I went to him first, trusting that his answer would illuminate the kind of response I was hoping to elicit from everyone else.

“Why get present?” I asked again, looking at Dustin.

“So I can feel my life,” he replied simply. Thirty men in blue sat in the stillness, taking in the profundity of Dustin’s answer to this confounding question. Who does that? Who sits still to feel the totality of one’s life? Someone strong enough to feel their own vulnerability. A present Type Eight does that. Dustin does that.

Take a breath.

Enneagram Prison Project is turning 14 this Sunday! We are transforming prisons from places of punishment to spaces for healing. If you would like to contribute to our work, a gift of $600 provides the key to freedom for one more person like Dustin.

DONATE to EPP

Read the original on susanolesek.substack.com

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