Flat Stanley is the luckiest piece of cardboard! Every Wednesday night for eight straight weeks she gets to co-conduct a class on communication and leadership for 10-12 inmates at a medium security prison. This is the third group that FS and Richard, a most excellent training partner, have facilitated since last July: About 35 men total.
FS doesn't get to talk about this experience very often because most people have serious issues on the issue of prison. Most people are content with voting for political candidates who whitewash the dynamics of the US justice system by accusing their opponents of being soft on crime. As if being "tough on crime" is synonymous with improving society.
It's like this: You take a man, raise him in a world of skewed social values, bust his sorry ass for pursuing the American dream (happiness), throw him in prison with a bunch of like-minded fellows for several years, then set him loose, refuse to give him a decent job, and expect him to be far better than you, yes, YOU, ever have a hope of being? We on the outside demand that he take on the patience of Job and build a successful life in the face of odds we don't want to admit are there.
So maybe you're thinking that FS must be one of those freakin clueless do-gooder libbrals.
Not.
FS ain't stupid, y'all. These guys did the crime and they know it. Fact is, most of them are glad they're only doing time for what they got caught doing. And yah, it's easy for a man to be repentant when he's in prison. Or when he's got jailhouse religion.
FS and partner only know about the men what they choose to reveal in class. There's premeditated murder. Drug trafficking. Probably some spouse abuse. Drug trafficking. Breaking and entering. Drug trafficking. Drunk driving. Parole violation. Concealed weapon. Third strike. Drug trafficking.
Nobody's innocent, and everybody has a story. But what stories they are.
Boys living on the street at age 12. Or earlier. Boys abused by mothers, fathers, and mothers' boyfriends. Boys raised by good parents but choosing bad anyway. Boys following in their father's footsteps. Boys acting out in rage at themselves, at the world. Men acting like the boys they never were. Men following the code of the street.
Men dealing because they think the flash and the cash is what makes them real men. Men using, abusing, hustling for the next fix, the next hit, the next deal, chasing madly for significance. Men leaving despair in their wake and hopelessness for their future. At some point, if they are lucky, they see this.
This is the gift that FS and Richard provide: Once a week for eight weeks of their four, ten, 20, 40-year sentences, if their behavior is noteworthy, if they are in Chaplain C's domain, if they are selected, if the prison can find a room, if FS and Richard don't have a schedule conflict, a class of 10 to 12 men get to spend an hour or two as students. For that time, they get to be men free of their past and hopeful about their future. They are students, exhilarated that their jailhouse dreams of making the world which formed them a better place for their children and childrens' children is taken seriously.
They themselves, however, are the gift to FS and Richard by paying the highest compliment possible: They pay attention. They learn. They resist. They struggle. They think, consider, weigh. They grow. They improve on their ability to articulate their thoughts. They push each other, hone leadership skills, build upon the incredible inner strengths they will need to be as changed outside prison as they are while inside prison.
Again, FS ain't naive. She knows that not all these guys are gonna make it. She knows that the men in her class are heavily pre-screened -- that's the only way FS would have it. Prison is prison for good reason.
But it's nice. Really, really nice, to have this opportunity to see these men, some of whom who have simply screwed up in big ways, some of whom were bad, as in the bad sense of the word, all of whom, at this particular point in their lives, have regained touch with their innate goodness.
That's the part that's exhilarating, the part that FS wants to share with others but cannot because they do not want to hear: So many of those people behind bars? They are human. Nice, kind, thoughtful, caring, human beings.
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9 comments:
I dated a prison guard many years ago and if his attitude was the standard view of people who work within the prison system, then they are partially responsible for the failures in the prison system.
Would you please email me FS?
Uber: Yes, guards can be assholes. I'd probably be an asshole if I were a guard, because I'd be seeing from an entirely different perspective. A friend of mine says that prison as currently done dehumanizes both prisoner and keeper.
don't know how to email you.
When I was younger I wanted to be a prison psychologist. I have a problem with people being manacled and caged like animals[I don't even like to see animals like that] and whilst I recognize that we have to segregate some people from society,it should only be in cases of absolute musts and then the people treated with respecct and dignity.
Yeah, my ex was a complete asshole[used to love telling stories how they would rip out the last page of the books of the inmates in the hole].
ubermouth@ubermouth.com
I would appreciate hearing from.
It worries me that while people are in paying thier debt to "the house" they are viewed as something substandard and subhuman. If you act that way, fine. Then you deserve it. But if you're just there and have made a mistake and swallowing your pill, then why add insult to injury. Even Ghengis Khan would not strike the same man twice for the same infraction or occurance. That says something.
I work in a male prison, they are the ones who have failed society, or society has failed them. If a dog attacks a sheep, the farmer has the right to destroy the dog. If a man or woman takes another life or attacks another human being, they are locked up for a reason. To protect society from these lesser beings, can we rehabilitate these beings back into the humans they should have been before society fucked them up?
Indigo, my answer to your question is I don't know. I believe that some can be rehabilitated, but that it takes outside support, too.
A lot of these guys that I work with (and hey, look, I've worked with less than 50) truly want to make the world a better place so that younger people get their heads on straight. But you and I both know that we don't have a culture that supports that change.
Some guys, yes, I believe should be locked up forever.
Good post, sis. It's so hard to tell who has their 'Sunday suit" on, are they playing the game to get out or are they sincere? but you gotta give a fallen guy a chance, hear him out, help him open doors. there are doors for everyone, but the choice to open or which one to go thru lies within. You are a powerful person, you lead with conviction and compassion. If just one prisoner breaks the bars of his own inner prison, you have accomplished the mission. You Rock!
It took me a few days after reading this to comment. It was truly the epitome of compassion and humanity.
I still don't fully know what to say, other than I deeply admire the work you are doing in there and wish more people would do it.
i love this post. 2 years of full time work with the dually diagnosed (mental illness and substance abuse) in our regional jail, and i say i agree with your assessment, FS. and i also see why you don't always share that assessment with others.
what i've found is a common humanity with those in my groups. it doesn't mean that i trust them or that i let my guard down. security is always on my mind. but there is a common humanity.
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