Life lessons from inside the gate...

As some of you probably know, my job as Nursery Manager for Taconic Women's Prison was recently part of the cuts that Albany made in regards to the criminal justice system. In the mad fury to get everything wrapped up prior to my last day, I was scrambling around like a chicken with my head cut off.  I was acting like "typical Maria" taking on way too many things each day just to make sure the transition for the women and the move out process for Hour Children and the prison was a smooth one.  During this time, I became a stranger to anything except for my task at-hand.  Then on a random Wednesday evening about two weeks ago, I was invited to a life skills graduation inside the County Jail in Newark, NJ.

To be honest when I first got the invitation, I was ready to respond back with my regrets.  I was already spending two nights that week working late at my other jobs and I really didn't want to part with a third.  The time of the event also wasn't faring well for me.  It was set to be from 6-9 pm and when you get up at 5 am to go to work the thought of losing a couple extra hours sleep isn't a huge sales point.  I also thought about the traffic.  I would be working all day and then driving almost 80 miles or so from work to go to this event.  There were so many cons so I decided to draft an e-mail to the organizer saying thanks, but no thanks.

As I started on the e-mail, I wrote several versions of reasons why I couldn't go.  However, they all seemed to be shallow.  "Sorry I can't go because I have to work." -Well so does everyone else who was invited.  "Sorry, but the drive will be too much." - Too much for someone who is going to be able to catch up on sleep and time in a couple of weeks?

As I re-read the e-mail text, I was striking out even more.  The whole point of the life skills class was for women to come together and work on themselves.  The class wasn't mandatory and the women who came mostly gave up privileges and their own free time to be part of it.  For 8 weeks, the women wrote essays and poems, watched and analysed films, and became part of a therapeutic group that looked into the root causes of why they ended up in lifestyle that lead them to jail.  For most of the women, this was the first time they had seen through any type of positive commitment in their lives.  Now I couldn't give up a few hours of my free time to be a part of their accomplishments?

I erased all the previous drafts of my e-mails and wrote a few lines, "It would be my pleasure to be part of this experience."  With that, I committed.

As I suddenly approached all the traffic that was flowing in my direction, I started to tense up and I really wanted to just turn around and go home.  However, I kept on going and managed to make it by nothing short of a miracle with even a few minutes to spare.

As we processed into the jail, I have the feeling I always do going inside.  My heart races and for a minute, as the gates close behind me, I feel trapped.  I understand freedom as I've known it just a few seconds ago is no more.  For the next block of time (possibly more depending on if anything out-of-the-ordinary happens), I am committing myself to playing by a new set of rules, where every move is watched and at any time, things can "go sideways," which is a term commonly used inside when things get ugly.  At this point, I take a deep breath and say a small prayer and adjust to my new surroundings.  During this time, a weird burst of energy surges through my body and I know that I'm ready.

As we walked into the room, there were women of all different shapes and sizes.  Some tattooed, some pierced, but all looked hardened from the lifestyle they were accustomed to on the outside.  Just as I was sizing them up, I could feel their stares coming down on me too.  I know that this will seem strange, but for me, being inside of a female jail is much scary than being inside of a max men's prison.  Reason being that in a jail people are transient and they are awaiting trial, many are trying to prove themselves and establish hierarchies.  No one knows each other that well and therefore, the culture is very unsettled and being unsettled in a facility is never a good thing.  Then to throw on top of this being a woman visitor inside of a women's facility that's another dynamic and this causes the women inside to throw up additional guards.

However, with women once you can break down the barriers and find some commonalities, the dynamics change drastically.  As part of the ceremony, this was an exercise that we all did.  As the outsiders explained who they were and why they chose to be a part of this celebration, you could see the women's faces start to soften.  Then after we had some conversation and a meal together, the women got to share a piece of themselves- a final paper that they wrote about their lives.  As each women shared, they became more and more vulnerable.  They talked about their addictions, but they focused mostly on what led them to this life.  Tearfully each woman recanted horrible stories of childhood abuse, murders of their family members and being raised on the streets.  In respect and confidence for these women, I am choosing not to share the specifics here.  However, I do want to share one story of a woman who was just sentenced and will be leaving the jail to serve a 10-life sentence for a murder that her boyfriend committed while she sat outside in the car high on meth with no recollection of anything that happened that night.

She is a young mother and is now in recovery and she is using her writing to help get her through.  She talked about two African proverbs that have helped shape her and turn her life around.  The first is, "Never test the water with both feet."  The second, "Don't look where you've fallen, but where you've tripped."  She crafted a well written piece about how these two proverbs were the way that she lived her life prior to her being inside. She was always trying the next best thing and cycling through people and things to find some sort of meaning in her life.  When she wasn't able to, she would use the drugs to coat her pain and now that she is not able to do this, she is forced to look inside and find out all the lose ends that have been ignored.

As she read her piece, it brought a tear to my eye as I could understand where she was going.  Although I couldn't relate to the addict piece, I could relate to the proverbs.  I saw myself inside of both of them.  I have a gusto for life and sometimes this leads me to trip and jump into waters too shallow for me.  I was doing this right now even before my current job had ended, I was trying to make way to jump into something else.

As I drove back that night, I reflected on what she said and I have since decided to tread a little more carefully.  Although I have no idea what the next step will be, I am at peace in committing myself a bit more to the process to find the right thing, not the right now thing.