The Positive Energy of Others

Yesterday, a friend from where I used to live came to visit. She arrived in town just prior to the Friday night GA meeting. That's okay, though, because that's how we met - sitting across the table at a GA meeting. It was her that I always looked to when people said to find people within the rooms who represent what you want your recovery to look like. She was happy, attractive, married, intelligent, kind, forgiving, and just emitted off this positive energy that made her someone approachable to all. I was so devastated at the time - but down the road, I wanted my life to look like hers.

We quickly became friends and along the way she assisted me with some of my step work as well as always just been a good person that always brought a smile to my face. Even though longish periods of time may pass when we do not talk, we are always there for each other, like extended family who genuinely care. 

Sporty and she feel very much the same way. So we were immensely pleased that she chose to come out and visit for a night. It started with the meeting, then Thai food, then sitting on the couch for hours catching up, then laughing at YouTube videos, then sleep. This morning we walked to a cafe and sat over beverages and a light snack and talked for a couple more hours until she had to goon the many hour trip back home.

I told her that the 20 or so hours she was here will leave behind an energy that will carry with me for quite a while. She still is that person. Life is not perfect for her. It never has been as it is not for any of us. She is just one of those positive spirits in this world that just feels great to be around. Today, I may not be everything she was or is when I sit at a GA table, but I know that I am one of those positive voices. I learned a lot of it from her. It was a wonderful visit and a quick one and I'm so very happy she came!

"I Want to Investigate Money Crimes"

It was a really, really long day. I'm not complaining. I wouldn't change a thing. I'm happy and have so much to be grateful for. In fact, I actually received actual money today - the excess of a small grant - awarded to me by my school. Problem is, and isn't there always one, I have not heard back from my P.O. (he doesn't call, he doesn't write - imagine whiney mother referring to child) and do not know the protocol on my financial aid. I do not want to put funds toward bills or rent if I have a legal responsibility in a different direction. I do not think it's technically "income," but I know that I needed his permission to begin with and I don't want to make incorrect assumptions... We knows what they say about people who ASSuME things... Ass out of U and Me... In this case just me and the possibility of getting a violation. I'll try calling my PO again tomorrow.

I imagine my finances are being scrutinized much stronger than someone with say a drug crime. For them, it's their blood and urine that's scrutinized. Speaking of scrutinized finances, I found myself engaged in a funny conversation today. I was talking with a fellow student who is freshly out of undergrad and excited to be considering a career in intelligence. I asked where his interests lie and he said that he's specifically interested in money based crimes - white collar offenses. I wonder if my cheeks turned bright red at that moment. If they did, he didn't show it. He then talked about how DEA also sounds exciting. Oy veh. He's a nice guy. I'm sure there may be a time where telling my story could be appropriate, I don't know. 

I kind of want to do a "I can shatter all your stereotypes" workshop for all these folks. I keep hearing things like - Feds don't matter - only 10% of cases go there. Women don't matter because they commit far less crime, and far less violent crime. Discretion is bad in the criminal process (yet discretion allowed me substantial downward departure and I never went through a true arrest). Etc. and... It's only been a week so far!!!!

Best advice I've learned so far - honesty and being humble are your best ways to avoid a ticket or arrest from a police officer. Lies/tears/making up a story is the fastest way to find your way in real trouble. When I told that officer a couple weeks ago that I'm on federal supervision and all about my car just getting back to me, etc., he knew that I was being honest (people don't make up prison!) and it turns out, that helped me avoid a ticket!

In time, I'd like to try and reach out to others who sought degrees in criminal justice grad programs after imprisonment and see how they took to certain concepts. There's got to be a bunch of us out there!

When it All Fits Together

Today was a really long day. Superdog had me awake before 8am and I was trying to sleep in because I knew my day was going to do late. No luck. Since I was up anyway, I should thank Superdog, because I got in a great morning workout. Then I spent several hours reading article for classes and ensuring I would be ready for whatever was to come my way.

I had to once again stop at HR on my way onto campus. This time, they needed my I-9 form (the official federal employment homeland security form) filled out. Guess they forgot about that yesterday. They asked me to bring in my license and either my ss card or my passport - uh oh...

My passport was turned in one week prior to my sentencing (after I was allowed to travel to South Africa). My ss card and birth certificate were NEVER returned to me (after all the work Survivor, my mom, and Sporty did to get them to me in Carswell). They never made it off my counselor's desk after I saw the envelope there weeks before my leaving. As I exited the facility I asked for the documents, but it was either the docs or my freedom. I chose freedom. All that work to get the documents and I didn't need them because I happened to have a valid drivers license on file. The things no one tells you. So, my ss card and official birth certificate probably remain in a pile on that same desk. I wonder whose folder they will accidentally be put in. Perhaps someone who really is 5'2" and African American...

Anyway, luckily, before turning in my passport, I took pictures of every page that had info, visas, or stamps. I'm nostalgic like that. So, I asked if I could just bring in a photocopy of my passport.  Printed the picture of my info page and met the requirements even though I lacked the documents in hand. I have no idea what I would've done to get a document quickly in order for my hire to finally go through. Always more hoops!!

My first class today was on research methods. I feel like I've now done my schooling backwards. I was conducting research and now I'm in basic level methods courses because I'm starting at the masters level, but I'm sure I'll learn a lot and gain some new foundational understanding within the field of criminal justice. Next semester is the statistics side of all this and I'm geeked to be working in numbers and data again.

Three hours later, one class ended and I was walking into my next class on feminist criminology. I already know I'm going to really enjoy this class. Since I'm really interested in issues around women and incarceration/women and crime, etc - this class will help me with usable theory. Truth is that there's no getting around the fact that makes happen to commit more crimes and more violent crimes than women. However, there's very little research available on the experiences of women involved in the system. I have so many questions floating in my head for potential topics. For this class, my professor expects me to write my thesis proposal by December... And use it to show that I'm ready for the phd program as I apply in January for next year.

It felt great in today's courses. I felt right at home and among colleagues - especially in the feminist criminology course which is all phd students except for myself. I was allowed to engage in discourse that reminded me why I love academia and want to be a researcher and a professor. I asked appropriate questions and participated in group discussion. I felt connected and for a couple moments, I forgot that I was just in prison and that I had been kicked out of this university less than a year ago. I just felt a part of- not different.

It's really starting to click and I'm feeling good about this direction. I wish I could share all this with my friends back at Carswell. I miss so many of them and hate that communication is prohibited. They need to know that life really is possible after release... Tell your loved ones, okay? Please tell them.

6,000 Steps in an Hour

I'm still wearing my fitbit flex. I do not always get to 10,000 steps, but I try. Today, though, was a running errands around campus day, which meant a lot of steps! I must admit, I also walked to the wrong building entirely on the wrong side of the quite large campus as well. Oops. 

I successfully turned in paperwork to payroll, human resources, and the parking office. This means I will receive a direct deposit of my payroll. Human resources can run yet ANOTHER background check on me since I'm moving into a graduate assistant role (not just volunteering). I successfully purchased a graduate assistant parking permit for campus. I also checked out two more books for my classes at the business library.

I think the human resources experience was the most interesting. Instead of just dropping off my authorization for my background check, I asked if I could speak with the woman conducting the check. Instead of my going to her, she came up to the desk, so my conversation was public and two other ladies could hear everything. Taking the "I have nothing to be ashamed of" approach, I said that I have a felony and asked how the procedure would go. She explained it and was very kind. I said something like, "honesty is always the best policy," and all three of them agreed, nodding and sming at me. I may be a felon, but one look at me, and I'm so non- threatening. It left me thinking about felon stereotypes and the felon identity. Am I an "acceptable" felon when some others are not - simply because I don't fit into stereotypes? Does that help me move forward quicker. Do I have privilege of some sort over other felons? 

Is it gender? Race? My baby face? 

If someone asked you to close your eyes and imagine a felon, who would you describe? Does OITNB change people's perceptions of felons?

I've become very curious. Perhaps a research topic is there for me to flush out out...

Tomorrow, instead of walking so much, I have six hours of classes. Something tells me that I may think back to my long walks of today and continue to think about felon identity. Both classes require research papers. I think all that walking today helped me clear my mind enough to be ready for a possible paper topic.

Labor Day

So how does a graduate student spend Labor Day? At the library of course! The campus library was open for five hours today, which allowed me enough time to get lost among the stacks and find just two of the books I need for the semester. I ordered a couple from other libraries and will have to either rent or buy the rest. The textbook industry is big bussiness... Over $100 per book and a new edition every other year!

T.S. had to watch a 1940's film noire classic from the video collection at the library, so I had the rare privilege of being able to be there with her without being an adult "embarrassment" to a teenage undergrad. Ha. It actually turned out to be a nice afternoon. Pb&j sandwiches and all.

I start "officially" working this week. In a couple weeks, a real paycheck will be deposited into my account. 10% of my gross pay will start being paid toward my restitution. I will finally be on my path toward getting off supervised release. I feel as if I've been in a waiting pattern for the last three months, just holding onto HOPE and being allowed to circle the skies praying not to run out of fuel or crash. Now, I've finally landed and I'm able to start the real journey of life after prison.

I don't mind that I spent Labor Day working on school, because I was working and I'm so grateful to have all that I do right now!

Family Picnic

Tomorrow is the annual picnic for my mothers side of the family. Growing up, it meant horseshoes, softball, volleyball, grilled hotdogs and burgers, tons of side dishes and people that I had no idea who they were or how they were related. I was pretty much the baby of the family for a very long time, so everyone knew me, loved to squeeze my cheeks (ouch!), and generally were kind for a few words before continuing their adult conversation with others. It didn't matter, though, I always loved the family picnic.

When I moved back to where I grew up, after spending over a decade away falling into all the devastation of addiction and chaos, I took on an important role. My grandma had always been a main organizer of the family picnic, (along with my aunt) but my gandma's recent onset of Alzheimer's had started to make things like organizing large events difficult and my aunt was having a difficult go with things at the time, so, as I was trying to rebuild my life while living in my parents' second bedroom, I also planned the annual Labor Day weekend family picnic. Luckily, Sporty assisted by finding some great kid activities - like a bouncy house (lots of kids now that the next generation has come along) and sports equipment. It was a success, and for the next several years, I continued to organize our family picnic.

Of course, I had to release the reigns once I left to go to school, although, I did visit and attend the picnic. Last year, I'm not sure if there was a picnic. I never really heard about one. I was in Texas, so if there was one, I didn't respond to the email invitation.

A couple weeks ago, I received an email inviting me over to a cousin's house for a more casual setting for the family picnic. It had always been at a wooded area - often on a lot of land or a forest preserve- so not sure how being in the backyard of a home in a neighborhood will go, but I'm just grateful that someone new took on the leadership and is continuing this long family tradition. My mother attended family picnics when she was a little girl. This goes way, way back.

Initially, I'd hoped to ask to go home for this weekend, and possibly attend the family picnic. Federal supervision requires a minimum of two weeks written request and I had to wait 60 days until I could request (September 1 is my 60 days... Tomorrow!) So, for two reasons, I could not request this weekend. It makes me sad that my grandma's Alzheimer's is too far advanced now for her to go to any social functions outside her assisted living community. At least my parents will be there - our side of the family will represent.

I'm not sure I would've found my niche at the family picnic. I often find that I just have so little in common with many members of my family. I suppose recent experiences may make me a bit more interesting to talk with - especially with the popularity of OITNB - but it's the one subject my mom and step-dad would get incredibly angry seeing me talking about - prison! My switch to crim justice might bring on good conversation, but once again, it could lead back to that topic my folks scowl at me for (not that I care really if they scowl at me... But just saying). So, then I just listen to everyone talk about their lives. Their houses, kids, art, cars, careers, vacations, etc and then I wonder, "I'm related to all these folks how?" 

Well, at least they don't squeeze my cheeks anymore, that has fallen on the now much younger kids. While horseshoes may not be part of every family picnic anymore, it may not be such a bad thing. One year, when I was about 9 years old, my horseshoe hit my sister's ankle and put her on crutches. She was not very happy with me.

Plus, these days, I define my family much broader than I did when I was young. I do not solely define family by blood... but I still include them as well...