At different times in his colorful life, Rod Blagojevich has been a Golden Gloves boxer, an attorney and disgraced former governor of Illinois. Now behind bars in a federal penitentiary in suburban Denver, Blagojevich has become a tutor, mentor and the lead singer in an Elvis Presley-inspired group of convicted musicians.

Blagojevich, 59, in 2012 began serving a 14-year sentence on corruption charges stemming from his offer of President Barack Obama’s vacated U.S. Senate seat in a political insider deal.

At the Federal Correctional Institution in Englewood, he has led the “Jailhouse Rockers,” a name taken from one of Presley’s biggest hits: “Jailhouse Rock,” released in 1957.

“Let’s rock, everybody, let’s rock; Everybody in the whole cell block,” Blagojevich can almost be heard as he prods on the penitentiary’s General Education Diploma “Class of 2013” in a graduation ceremony.

Blagojevich’s activities behind bars were recently documented in an Illinois court motion as proof that the former governor is not sulking in prison and instead is making the most of his time behind bars while helping fellow inmates improve their lives. Next month, his Chicago attorney, Leonard Goodman, will ask a federal judge to reduce Blagojevich’s prison term to five years, which would lead to a swift release for the former governor.

“I’ve had clients including politicians who were convicted of crimes. They usually sit there in prison and stew and fire off angry missives to judges. …That’s not how Rod has spent his time. He is a people person. He is interested in helping people,” Goodman said in a phone interview Thursday.

Blagojevich has changed strategies about speaking to the media since he was roundly criticized by a judge for speaking out about the charges against him during his trial and does not accept requests for interviews, Goodman said. Goodman declined to say whether Blagojevich’s famous mane of black hair has turned gray.

A 22-page memorandum Goodman filed in the U.S. District Court Northern District of Illinois in Chicago offered a unique look inside the federal lockup that houses many sex offenders, such as former Subway pitchman Jared Fogle.

When fellow inmates call inmate number 40892-424 “governor,” or “The Gov” or “The Gobi,” they aren’t taunting the disgraced administrator, according to Goodman. It’s done out of respect, he said.

Blagojevich has been a role model behind bars, teaching history classes and mentoring fellow inmates about how to be good grandfathers.

Federal prosecutors, in contrast, aren’t inspired by Blagojevich’s rehabilitative strides, pointing out that the former governor still maintains his innocence. They argue that he should serve every day of his 14-year sentence.

Blagojevich has taught history classes about the Civil War and World War II as well as lectured about great Americans such as Franklin Roosevelt, Abraham Lincoln, George Washington and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., according to his attorney and fellow inmates. Blagojevich works in the prison kitchen warehouse and tutors inmates about how to conduct themselves in job interviews, Goodman wrote.

The document is packed with about 100 testimonials from Blagojevich’s fellow prisoners.

“Before I met the governor, I never had any wishes or thoughts about education,” an inmate identified only by his initials, TW, wrote. “As a result of my conversations with the governor, I decided to take GED classes.”

The inmates extolled Blagojevich’s outgoing, upbeat personality. They said the ardent Chicago Cubs fan is funny, jogs around a track, lifts weights, serves as the law librarian, and regularly attends and participates in Christian religious meetings. He is also the consummate motivator in an atmosphere of pessimism, one inmate said.

“The Gov would say if I could be governor, some of you guys could be president,” another fellow inmate remarked.

Many inmates commented about how sincerely interested Blagojevich is about the welfare of fellow inmates. One Hispanic inmate from California wrote that he teaches Spanish to Blagojevich, who is always in good humor when the drug convict jokes with him about holes in his prison uniform.

“He was at the top level of politics and all that goes along with that, and now he is in prison with so many true felons and he accepts that as fate, with his head held high, no ego, no arrogance and most importantly with humble humility,” wrote a convict, who identified himself as cocaine dealer.

There were many testimonials about how Blagojevich is a great family man despite the fact that he is housed in a prison across the country and rarely sees them.

One way he has accomplished that was by learning to play the guitar. It was a way of building a bridge with Annie, the youngest of his two daughters, who plays the piano.

“Their shared interest in music has helped Blagojevich stay connected,” Goodman wrote.

A professional guitarist identifying himself only as Ernie B. taught Blagojevich vocals and how to play guitar. Ernie formed the band with the former governor and other inmate musicians. Blagojevich was the lead singer.

The group performed 21 popular songs made famous by groups such as Creedence Clearwater Revival at a subsequent Independence Day prison concert.

The group later broke up when Ernie B. was released from prison.