From Dragonfly: Another Week

It's Friday night and I am in the email room for the first time today. I am just moving a little slow today and couldn't get in here earlier. I put in a good day's work. For the past two days, I have been helping in a different classroom since one of the usual tutors is out having surgery. It wasn't much of a choice, but it was a good class to work with. I've now watched how three different classes get students ready for their GED and each time I learn different techniques and meet different students who give me hope. Whatever I find myself doing when I am out of here, I hope I am teaching. I just love the moment when a student "gets" it!

The weekend will bring a couple of days without waking from an alarm (although I wake before 6am on my own), down time to crochet and read, and too much time dealing with unit drama. My need for something different, to see beyond the fences of this prison, is growing. Star pointed out to me the street lights that we can see at a distance from a specific point on the campus. Freckles found a spot where we can see neon purple from a hotel somewhere in the distance. These spots remind me that there is life beyond the limits of this place. Hearing a plane above head or, even, seeing our staff walking through the front building, is evidence of life - real life. I know I've been here for such a short period of time, but it's already hard to imagine being in darkness or having a cuddle or driving a car. My rides on Hope are a distance memory - my life is engulfed entirely in survival. I cannot imagine why this is the punishment for people who are non-violent. The more you are in prison, the more likely you are to become hardened and a real criminal!

Even the staff have bought in to this place. Today, two teachers commented that my uniform is not ironed. I explained the difficulty of laundry and utilizing an iron - everything is a fight and I stay away from fights... best I can. Just his last week at laundry I was called a "f***ing cracker" by a woman who was upset that I wouldn't take my clothes out of the washer until my dryer was ready (5 minutes). I would have had to stand there will my entire wet load of clothes in my arms or put them on a dirty surface --- neither option works. Once the dryer was available, my clothes went in, just like anyone else would do. The irons are practically "owned" by the women who do people's laundry for commissary items. There are women here who do five loads of other people's every day! Try getting around them to get one of the three irons in a unit of 256 women!!!

I informed the staff members that the only way I could get my clothes ironed is if I pay someone - which I do not have the funds for. One teacher piped in that I should charge for tutoring in my unit. I informed them that 1) I am not hustling something that is a good deed; and 2) hustling is not allowed here. They called me back over and said, "I didn't tell you to do that..." fearing the wrong person would know that they said that. That's how things go here - if you want to follow the rules and not lose good time, you are in the minority. I'm often told, "you are in prison now... act like a prisoner!" But, I don't want to fit in here, I want to go home --- that is all I want!!!!!

Okay, heading out to 30 degree weather. It almost feels like home. Here, people are not used to this kind of weather, but those of us from the Midwest feel right at home. I'm just wearing a heavy sweatshirt... it doesn't feel that bad. Off to crochet or read or both... I'm sure I will be sitting with my peers, talking about families, stresses, and inmate.com news. It's what we do every night!