They Lied to Me

I guess I knew it at the time, but I tend to take things at face value. It never made sense how I was first told I was transferring to the Carswell Camp, then told nothing ever had been processed, then told I would be transferred again, and then told I was denied the transfer to the camp due to my enbrel medication. At some point, the frustration just gets to be too much, and you just stop asking questions like, "why?" When you do ask, they don't usually give you a real answer.

It was in a letter I received from someone who went to the camp that I learned there are people there on my same medication and on my same dosage. Not only that, they are going to start my friend on Humira (same type of injection as mine) and she gets to stay at the Carswell Camp. In other words, there is ABSOLUTELY NO REASON, I could not have transferred to the camp.

I was lied to, but so are so many others. People are so lazy there and they are constantly making up new policies. Catch the wrong person on the wrong day, and you are put on the back burner, while others with similar situations get listened to. Problem is, you never know who is the wrong person on any given day.

It has taken Nurse nearly a full year to get her transfer to Victorville, even though she was supposed to go before the 2013 holidays. Freckles had to watch all her RDAP buddies leave, while she had to wait an extra month with no real explanation. People's surgeries are promised to them, but years later they are still being told it will happen. Bandana has been waiting for necessary shoulder surgery for over four years. Taz has to wait five years for dentures because the marshals lost hers when she was transferred to Carswell. Five years without most of her teeth. Really?

For me, I accepted that I would not leave FMC Carswell for the camp. I figured there must have been some reason I wasn't meant to transfer. With my shorter sentence, I was okay staying put with most of my friends.

What I do know, now, though is that the Caswell Camp is way better than the medical center. I've learned that the food is better, visitation is better, jobs are better, the dog program is great, you can enjoy the lake view, the rec is pretty awesome, and they have high quality hobby craft classes. Also, the staff is way more laid back and inmates feel like people, only the puppies are treated like animals (and even they get respect).

I suppose if I knew then what I know now, I would have fought the denial. I can't say it would have done me any good. The medical team refused my transfer without ever meeting me. I guess I was just someone who's paperwork found the wrong person on the wrong day - result "transfer to camp denied."

Courage to Change the Things I Can

For weeks, when anyone asks me how I'm doing, I say good. When I talk about my life, I can't help but smile and share that I am happy. My guests this last weekend commented that I said I was happy no less than four times the first day. I don't mean to repeat myself, but I am just so grateful for my life.

Today was a day that allowed me to know that I truly do deserve to be happy. Sure, people will say that we all deserve happiness, but sometimes our lives are filled with just too much fear, or pain, or loss, for us to find our own happiness. In the past, I did not believe I deserved happiness. I once told someone who was mean to me, "thank you for treating me the way I deserve to be treated." When we hate ourselves, we believe we deserve the worst of life.

There are others who also will believe we deserve only bad. I'll never forget being in the courtroom at my sentencing. The judge was saying that she didn't believe I should stay in school. She said, "I think you need to rethink your future." The prosecution side of the courtroom could not agree more with her. In their eyes, I did not deserve to have a rewarding career. Regardless of the restitution I still have to pay, they just wanted to see me suffering. I hurt their/my community with my embezzlement, I should suffer eternally.

Although my school advisor thought it wrong that the judge said such a thing, the 180 she did later made the judge's prediction much more likely to happen. Was I not to continue toward my phd? Is this one of those situations I needed to merely accept, and move on?

It's like the serenity prayer: god, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change...

Was this one of those things? Did I just need to accept that pursuing my doctorate was something I could no longer do? 

As you all know, I felt in my gut that I still have a right to pursue my education and I didn't want anyone else saying I could not do it because of my past.

Therefore, I felt that the situation with my university fell in the second line of the serenity prayer: the courage to change the things I can. I believed with my whole heart and soul that I deserved to be in school and that this was something I could still pursue. 

Was I just kidding myself, though? I mean, I'm less than two months out of prison. Nothing happens fast and maybe I needed to have the wisdom of that acceptance. 

I'm so glad I believed in myself and my future. Today I received a letter admitting me to the criminal justice program at my university. My application was deemed complete just two days ago, so I was not expecting to hear from them so soon. Although I am admitted to the master's program, they put in their admission three doctoral level courses I should take this semester. The courses will transfer into my doctoral program when they are able to admit me for next fall. I will not have to lose a year of time toward my doctorate! I will have the opportunity to do meaningful research and policy work to help build a justice system that is more just and to help change the system of incarceration. Instead of complaining, I am being given the opportunity to make a difference.

Based on my admission, my job can officially rehire me as their graduate research assistant. In mid-August, I will move from volunteer to employee. I will be able to take back my car from my parents and pay my half of the rent and utilities. I will be able to start real payments toward my restitution.

They said it would be impossible, especially at this late date, to get readmitted. But, I had courage. I chose to try to change the things I could. I was honest and humble. I take nothing for granted. Now, I can officially say, I am back in grad school and I WILL walk across that stage one day and receive my doctoral degree! 

If I can make things happen for me, anyone can. You just need to be your best person. Don't think of your past as a detriment. It's an asset. Those that are willing to listen, will see past your crime and see the person you really are. Being happy helps too. 

So, be warned. I am a very happy person. The happiness I already felt has quadrupled exponentially. I got back into school even after everything that happened. Dragonfly Hazel soars!!!!

Barely Scraping By

I guess the most difficult thing of being home right now are my finances. My friends generously provided for me while I was away and I even came home to some funds in my account. However, once released from prison the real expenses once again start - rent, utilities, gasoline, food, clothing, etc. Without a job or income, money can run through your account fast.

I am lucky, though, Sporty is helping me while I get my feet back on the ground. I am helping pay rent and utilities, but not to the halfway point that I will be responsible for starting next month. I will either be back in school and earning income at my graduate assistantship or I will be out there, somewhere, working. One way or another, I will be responsible for my personal expenses.

Prison does very little to help you figure out how to afford the costs of living right when you are released. For those that spend months at a halfway house, they do that with you. For those of us who are not halfway house eligible, or who go straight home, there are no services/programs to help us figure out what we do while we are out searching for a job. Yes, we must live off the kindness of others, but some people don't have that available, or don't have people able to give anything (so many people struggle just to get from paycheck to paycheck).

There are some bad rumors that go around the prison yard. Some people actually believe they are given funds to help them get back on their feet. Some are given a couple hundred dollars as gratuity, but most are eligible for nothing or very little. Unless you are old enough to get social security, there is no welfare system out there for you unless you have children and are raising them. Food stamps can help, but they don't cover your rent, your bus tokens, or your over-the-counter medication needs. Medicaid certainly helps, but you can't live in a health care center - you need to be able to provide for yourself.

I'm not at all saying that people SHOULD be given money when they are released from prison. However, I know several people who re-committed a crime because only in prison did they have a bed to sleep on and food available to them. In the outside world, they found themselves homeless due to not being able to find a job right away. I wonder if it would be possible to have a "prison to work" program... It would be a program that helps people start at a minimum wage to do jobs that different communities need. It wouldn't be perfect, but it would certainly help. In today's economy, though, I know that it's nearly impossible for anyone to find work, much less a felon. We need jobs programs for everyone, not just ex-convicts.

I'm very fortunate to know that I have a large safety net. No matter how difficult finances can get for me, I will always have a roof over my head, food in my tummy, and a good possibility of finding a job. I'm not afraid of what prospects I have because I am capable of working in many environments. For others, I fear, there are not a  lot of great prospects out there, especially in a struggling economy. So, how are we to help them stay out of prison? It's a question I sit and ponder.

Stand Up, Sit Down

Last night, I had the opportunity to run diversity activities with the high school youth at my job. They are staying on campus this week and they requested me to do activities similar to what I'd done last year with them. I had a lot of fun, as did the youth. There were moments of laughter, silence, deep thought, and hugs. There's one specific activity I facilitated that always appears to have a deep impact - sometimes I run it as "cross the room" and sometimes "stand up, sit down," but either activity is very similar. Last night, the students participated in stand up, sit down.

In this activity, I first set the guidelines, which include what is shared in the room stays in the room, respect for each other, absolute silence, no forcing anyone to stand, no laughing at anyone, and only reveal that which you choose to reveal. No one is forced to reveal anything about themselves that they are not comfortable with. Once the guidelines are set, and I can see all the youth agree to them by nodding their heads, I start reading a listing of comments. After each comment, the youth decide if it applies to them and they stand up if it does, or stay seated if it does not. I always start with simple ones, like "stand up if you wear glasses or contacts." Those that do stand up. I wait a couple seconds so everyone can see who is standing and who is not. They are all in a circle of chairs, so everyone can see one another. After a few seconds, I say, "you can be seated." So, as I read the 40+ statements, the students are essentially doing a lot of sitting crunches. Up, down, up, down, up, down... but in reality, no one stands for everything I say. Here's an example of some of the statements I read after the "stand up if...":

• in the past year, you have been in a relationship that hurt
• you are a person of color
• you have felt embarrassed about the economic class of your family
• you come from a family of four or more children (85% stood)
• you are an only child (1 person stood)
• you are being raised by someone other than your parents
• you have low self-esteem
• you feel lonely
• you feel physically unattractive
• you are good at sports
• you, a member of your family, or a close friend is gay, lesbian, or bisexual
• you have been teased about your accent or voice
• you have ever felt alone, unwelcome, or afraid
• you have a learning or physical disability
• you have experienced alcoholism in your family
• you have experienced drug addiction in your family
• you have experienced suicidal thoughts at some point in your life

There were many more statements. Every statement I made was followed by several students standing. There they were, among their peers, sharing intimate details about their life. I used to be a bit cautious about how "deep" I allowed the statements to go when I was working with youth. For years, I led this activity as "cross the room" at the summer camp I help organize. What I learned year after year was that the youth loved participating in this activity. They liked revealing things about their lives and seeing that they were not alone in anything. Nearly every serious question results in multiple youth sharing that issue. It helps them. Year after year, the youth would ask me to add more and more statements. By my last year running this activity with the youth, I had a list of more than 100 statements. The youth never seemed to tire of the activity.

After the exercise, the youth are broken into age groups and have a discussion about the activity. They share insights and emotions. The activity can be draining, but the youth always say they would like to do participate in it again.

I've learned through the years of running this activity with youth, that youth want to share things about their lives. The problem they find, though, is that there are few listeners or people they trust to just talk with. An activity like this allows them to reveal what they want in a safe environment. Something that may have been a secret is now out and they don't have to harbor their feelings about it. As a person in recovery, I now understand how important it is to give people those safe spaces to share. I'm always surprised by how much youth want to talk about their lives if they are asked the right questions.

I carry this over to adults as well. I've actually run activities like this with adults and, in fact, I modified it from an adult activity I once participated in. However, adults don't necessarily find themselves in the types of environments where activities like this can occur.  Therefore, as caring adults, we need to ask these questions of our friends. We need to ask and listen. Perhaps some people are too closed off to share, but others will enjoy the opportunity to open up and reveal things they thought no one else would care to hear about. Sometimes, you may just learn something fascinating about someone that you thought you knew so much about. It's important that we all share things about our lives. It helps people reflect on their life experiences when sharing them. It also helps friendships become stronger. I challenge all of you to take the time to ask questions and share with a friend. It may help them and you at the same time!

The Future of Hope

Well, it's official, Hope is totaled. Hope my scooter, that is. They considered many options to keep her around, but they were not good ones and it's likely best to donate her parts to other scooters that will survive. I'm an organ donor, so Hope will be as well.

I'm already researching new scooters, but they don't make Hope anymore, so I need to go from scratch. I don't think I'll get another pink scooter. Best to get a scooter I don't sit and compare to my old one. It's a new start in yet another part of my life.

Tomorrow, I should hear from the department of criminal justice that they are considering my complete application. Due to timing, I will know if I'm admitted in a matter of weeks. The waiting game is never easy. I still work on patience a lot.

I've officially run out of enbrel. My rheumatologist's office is trying to order me some through my new insurance. I pray it goes through quickly and I can take my next injection on time. I had to chase my enbrel at Carswell, why shouldn't I have to from home.  

I wish I could have kept the "Hope" logo from my scooter. Every time I face these unknowns, I could run my hand over it. It's just symbolic, but it keeps me positive. Hope is a positive word. 

Maybe I should claim that body part of my now former scooter. It's not a part that other ailing scooters would be seeking. Writing this helped me realize that I'll try and do just that. Maybe I can attach it to whichever scooter I select in the near future!

Was Prison What You Expected?

I get the question often, how did my prison experience match up with my preconceived thoughts of what the experience would be like? My answer: entirely different and worse.

My fears had me believing I'd be in a traditional cell with bars for a door and a toilet in the corner. That would have been horribly hard. So, I guess I'd say the prison environment was far better than my psyche had me prepared for. It was the emotional, mental, and physical toll that I hadn't imagined would be as difficult. It was the sights of seeing people suffering, the red tape no one could get through, the rudeness, the fights, the feeling of being treated like an animal - those are the things that made my experience worse than I expected.

The bonding I experienced with other inmates was nearly almost always started by the sharing of empathy about the outrageous ways we were treated and/or ignored. Perhaps it was a conversation about waiting for a full day to see a doctor, and never getting seen. Or, maybe, it was the fact that someone's roommate was threatening them. Maybe it was the experience of getting in trouble for something no one told you was wrong because only this C.O. has that rule. Maybe we bond over the fact that we have no table or chairs to sit in because they don't have enough for us all, or that someone stole something important to you. We sometimes first connected in a long email or chow line resulting in a half hour long conversation before finally getting access. Or for those in the pill line, a two hour conversation. We all bonded over our mutual unacceptable realities and our powerlessness to do anything about it. After all, we were the ones in khaki.

I guess in reality, I didn't have a clue of what to really expect at FMC Carswell. It's unique from all the other prisons. So many of us should have been in minimum security, but we were punished for having health concerns. Before I went, I had read about hospital style rooms. Those do exist, but only for the sickest. Our housing was like any cell block on most prison television shows - large, two floors, open atrium, loud, dirty, and overcrowded.

All that research I'd done prior to my self-surrender, and I didn't have that image in my head. I didn't have the image of how the CO's would treat us. I didn't have a real image of commissary, chow, or count time. I guess the truth is, until you experience it, there is no way to know what it will be like. The best preparation we can do is accept the unacceptable, be flexible, release control, and ensure we have safe and healthy outlets for the inevitable stress.

I guess I write this because if you are going to self-surrender, you need to get out of your head everything you think prison will be. Just prepare mentally and emotionally that you are walking into an unknown and you will learn to adapt to it. You will also bond with others facing similar circumstances and together you will support each other through the experience. It will be okay.