Baring My Soul

I stood in front of my colleagues and a professor I highly respect and told them my story - most importantly, that I spent last year at a federal prison and I am a felon. You could hear a pin drop. I explained my crime, my addiction, my recovery, my being kicked out of school, my fight back in, and why I am now in CJ. Just yesterday, a classmate was talking about throwing the book at white collar offenders, today they wrote me that I helped remind them that everyone makes mistakes. We all have pasts.

As I walked out of class, a colleague said I was her hero. Hardly. I have not done anything heroic. So many before and after me have done the same. Perhaps I am their first example of a felon who turns their life around or an addict who doesn't relapse. I don't know. I don't see myself as a hero. Heroes are people who run in burning buildings and save people. I wish I had the power to save people from walking a path similar to mine.

I shared that I kept a blog and that this blog helped me survive the experience. My prof asked what I will do with the blog - this "ethnography." It's the first time I've heard it called an ethnography- a writing in research terms based on themes. I said I did not know, but I've been thinking about it since. Have I been writing the data for my thesis all along?

I was worried about how my story came across last night, so I sent my professor an email follow up to make sure it was okay what I shared and to thank him for the additional time. He wrote me that it was, "motivational." While I have a hard time with "hero," I will accept "motivational." I do hope that my story motivates others to overcome obstacles and past mistakes. We can do anything we set our minds to, if we want it enough and believe in ourselves.

I have to admit, as a total extrovert, I was shaking last night. Telling my story and not knowing the reaction was difficult. I said to everyone that they are welcome to judge me, it matters not. I also told them that they can look me up - the media and feds have about 10% of the facts correct. They are also welcome to ask me any question, anytime. I'm more than happy to answer anything. 

Life is so much better without secrets!

Is Addiction a Mitigating Factor?

In class tonight, we are talking about the idea of "mens rea" - the intent of committing crime and the types of things that would mitigate against mens rea. We have a group of high school students in our class tonight and they are very engaged in the discussion and I am keeping my mouth quiet, listening... One classmate of mine questions can a rehabilitative model work on white collar crimes... my professor says, "I have no idea..." there is NO research on the topic. None. No one has looked into any of these issues. The truth is that no one will fund this research. Most white collar crime becomes federal (only 10% of all crime). Then the white collar portion of that is like 4% of that... so like .4% of all crime... Why is there no research, because researchers can only research what they can get funded - unless they are doing their dissertations or still in school. Well, that's me. Maybe I need to do a lot of this stuff over the next several years. There is certainly a need to find the answers!!!

The trouble is separating people who commit white collar crimes due to addiction and desperation from those like Madoff or the Enron scandal. There is greed that leads to huge crime. My crime looks like one of greed, but I was honestly, truly, believing I was helping my organization. Irrational thinking guiding my behavior. A person who donated time and money and who only openly intended good. Addiction brought me to irrational behavior and thinking. With a JD and my history, the judge and everyone believed I "should have known better." Addiction takes away the ability to know anything. Once gambling entered my thoughts, every possible means to the next pull of a handle or the next deal of cards was all that mattered. Period. I thank god every day for my nearly 6 1/2 years clean of gambling one day at a time.

Today, every decision I make is made with a rational brain. I look back at my 14 1/2 years of gambling, and I know how the progression of my addiction carried me to the place where I was no longer the person I was, but rather a person defined and controlled by addiction. I had two lives - a public fake life and a private dark life - and I hated both of them. I hated myself. Relief came in the form of hiding myself in smoky, small, disgusting casinos, where I would hide from anyone I knew and would sell myself and everything I believed in for the next bet. There is nothing that I could imagine that would make me want to go back there ever again. It's a life I hated and I love my life today. I love recovery. I love what I've discovered about myself. I love the fact that I now choose to share my secrets - regardless of consequences.

In fact, in less than 30 minutes, I will share with my class, my story. They will learn about my addiction, my crime, and my being a felon. It fits with tonight's readings and I told my professor that I want to talk and to give me some time to answer questions. It is time. The high school students are gone. It is time for intimacy and to reveal it because there is no reason to hide it any longer. I fear not the backlash, as I am here for a reason. Many students here have parents, relatives, and other experiences with the criminal justice system - that's why they chose this major. I may be the only felon. Especially the only federal felon. Once they get passed their shock, we will all learn together. It will be good. Break is just about over. Time to learn and think and prepare...

A Whole Week

I can't believe I allowed almost a full week to pass without my writing. I was up until after midnight every night making the most beautiful montage of my grandmother. The funeral was Monday and we drove back home yesterday. It was very hard emotionally. Yet, the real emotions were between my mother and her siblings who were on edge with one another the entire time. It broke my heart that I really didn't see them being able to support one another at all this weekend. Well, my aunt and uncle supported one another, but they were pitted against my mom, who was putting all of us up in her two bedroom condo, which also served as the location of the shiva, and everyone was on top of one another. The tension was heavy and I was extremely grateful for my montage project that allowed me to put earplugs in and escape from it all. In fact, everyone supported my project fully and the end result was well worth it. The montage included footage of video from my grandmothers 1945 wedding and honeymoon, family picnics through the years, and a lifetime of photos. She was beautiful, stylish, and oh so loved and the montage showed it all. Married at 18 and spending 52 years with my grandfather before his death almost 20 years ago, and then succumbing to Alzheimers in the last decade, my grandma had strength, wisdom, and a sense of ingenuity that could not be matched by many. It was a privilege to be her granddaughter. I may not have always matched her expectations, but I knew she loved me and I have so many warm memories of her throughout my childhood and beyond.

We all have those mistakes in our lives we wish to erase. I choose to try to integrate them all into who I am and the lessons I've learned. For my grandma, though, after my grandfather passed, we thought it was a fairy tale... a man she dated from high school came back into the picture and kinda swept her off her feet. He wanted to marry her, move her to Florida, promised her travel, fun, and that she would no longer have to work. Well, she did not work anymore, but they barely traveled and he enjoyed living on my grandmother's money, and he did not inform my family that my grandma was starting to show signs of memory issues. I guess he was enjoying his new life with her too much. Six years ago, when he had to come back up north for surgery, my grandma lived with my mom briefly, we all realized how bad she had gotten, started to process their divorce, realized what the guy had done to her financially, and we have never seen or heard from him or his family again. Although her last name was changed to his, she is buried with my grandfather's last name - the name of her true love and name of more than 52 years. As her memory was leaving her, she would talk all the time of my grandfather. She never remembered that she ever had a short second marriage. I'm so grateful that she didn't remember that mistake in her life.

Today, I was supposed to take a midterm exam. This was an impossible task. I simply could not be prepared for such an exam. I had no time to do anything for myself over the last week. My professors are super understanding and the one giving my midterm extended the exam until Monday morning for me. That will give me this weekend to prepare. Perfect. In the meantime, I have several papers also to be working on and a lot of reading to catch up on. I hate missing classes, it always just gets me behind on my work and means a lot more time to make sure I am prepared for the next class. This weekend will be very busy. Tomorrow, I have to concentrate on getting a lot of work caught up at work. Today, though, was low key. I had to take care of myself, make sure my body got the rest it needed, and relieve the stress of the week. Living with chronic illness demands that sometimes I have days like today so that I can have weeks like the one I just had. Tomorrow, I move forward, carrying the knowledge that my four birth grandparents are now all looking down on me and smiling with the knowledge that I am not being defined by my mistakes, but by how I am moving forward despite them all.