The Foundation of My Work
My work is not based on theory learned from a book; it is built on a life forged in adversity and redeemed by purpose.
Act I: The Crucible & The McCarty Bond
My mission began in the crucible of extreme personal adversity. I intimately understand the barriers returning citizens face because I lived them over a 15-year systemic journey navigating the lowest lows of jails, institutions, and rehabs. While navigating these environments, particularly in Boone County and the notorious Fulton County Detention Center, I formed a bond of mutual protection and deep camaraderie with my friend David McCarty. We stood by each other in the harshest of environments, sharing basic necessities, life stories, and even candy to maintain our humanity. David's struggle drives my relentless mission today to ensure returning citizens have the lifelines they need to survive.
The Metaphysical Courtroom NDE
During this 15-year battle, I reached a point where I was completely done living. I acquired a gram of pure fentanyl and injected it. I woke up inside a surreal, metaphysical courtroom with no ceiling, just an infinite void where I could see stars and black holes spinning in the dark. On the wall hung an old-fashioned telephone. I walked up to the receiver, picked it up, and pleaded: "God, I'm sorry for doing what I did. Please don't let me die like this. I need to go back and tell my mom I love her one more time."
In that instant, the universe ripped open in a blinding light. A commanding, absolute voice echoed: "I told you before, it is not your time. Now go back." I opened my eyes in the physical world to an EMS worker who was getting ready to call my official time of death. Following this survival, my step-father Jeff Jones looked me in the eye and delivered the definitive directive: "Zak, I don't care what you do, I just need you to do something." That single moment broke the cycle and propelled me to permanent recovery.
The Moral Mandate & The "Choir" Paradigm
The operational philosophy of Brinkman Strategic Planning is not merely a corporate endeavor; it is driven by a specific, profound spiritual mandate. Years ago, my mother, Kathy Jones, sat at the kitchen table entirely at her breaking point. In that moment of despair, she heard a voice out loud-a voice she knew with absolute certainty was God. He said to her: "Do not worry my child, for he will one day lead my choir."
In standard rehabilitative and carceral systems, justice-impacted individuals are systematically reduced to clinical "cases". The "choir" paradigm demands a complete operational restructuring: a choir represents a collective of distinct, individual voices brought together to achieve harmonic resonance under dedicated leadership. We frame marginalized populations not as a burden to be managed, but as a choir that BSP is built to lead and orchestrate.
Act II: Sacrifice & The Ultimate Test of Strategy
This platform and my entire life's work are formally dedicated to my mother Kathy Jones, my step-father Jeff Jones, my birthfather Edgar Brinkman, my nieces Peyton and Taylor, my nephew Corbin James, and the soon-to-be mother of my child, Angelica Rose Daley (pronounced phonetically as "Angaleeka").
My dedication to my mother is absolute. Years ago, I was facing a 15-year sentence at 85%. I could have beaten the charge at trial, but if I won, my mother would be facing 1 to 5 years in prison for falsifying a police report. Refusing to ever let my mother see the inside of a prison cell, I made the ultimate sacrifice. I gave up my freedom, dropped the charge to a Class D felony, and served 2 years and 8 months to protect her.
I also announce the upcoming birth of my son on October 4, 2026-Tyler John Brinkman. However, transparency is the cornerstone of peer support. Currently, Angelica and I are not speaking due to a severe communication breakdown during a gender reveal event a week before Easter Sunday. Angelica shared the baby's gender with her coworkers first. Feeling deeply hurt and left out of the milestone, I reacted in anger and shouted. During a subsequent argument in the car, I yelled that it was my child too. While I have never raised a finger to her and would absolutely never hurt her, I deeply regret the fear, the anger, and the shouting that night caused.
Being away from Angelica is the hardest, most devastating pain I have ever endured. In this public forum, I want her to know with absolute certainty that I am deeply, profoundly sorry. I regret the things I have said, and if I could take that night back in a second, I would. I pray daily that she does not take away her promise to let me name our son Tyler John Brinkman. I use my BreatheLax somatic pacing to survive this grief, staying absolutely sober and building BSP faster to ensure my unborn son is provided for.