While incarcerated at Sing Sing Correctional Facility, he attained a higher level of education than many people, including myself, will achieve in a lifetime. After earning a master’s degree in 2018, he was awarded the Justice-in-Education scholarship from Columbia University, which he may never be able to use.

What I remember most about Mr. Abraham is his quiet, playful laugh. During our conversation, he told me about a puppet named George that he had made from cardboard and paper clips, with round deodorant tablets for the eyes.

The puppet had been confiscated by the prison, but for a moment, he slipped into George’s high-pitched voice as he pretended to host “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous” inside Sing Sing. With a British accent, he described an “exquisite meal” in the cafeteria and “massages” for men who were searched for contraband.

“That’s kind of how I was able to not lose my mind,” he said recently. “Making humor out of some of this craziness.”

Several years ago, Mr. Abraham helped a television producer organize an interview series called “Voices From Within.” When he sat down in front of the camera himself, he voiced his remorse for taking a life. Then he spoke about his two sons, one of whom was stabbed in the presence of his brother.

“Because of a choice I made 20 years ago, I was not there to be a father to my children, and unfortunately, my children fell into the same cycle,” he said in 2014, staring directly at the camera. “My 17-year-old child, my son, lost his life.”

Last year, as the editor of a prison literature project at the Asian American Writers’ Workshop, I talked to many others at risk of felony deportation. Sear Un, a Cambodian-American father who was pardoned by Gov. Jerry Brown of California, called me when he was still in ICE detention.