My Friends Inside

There are rules. Serious rules. While on supervision, I cannot knowingly have contact with another felon. That means that I am not to write or contact any of the people I consider a friend who is still incarcerated, or who has a previous conviction (unless I get permission from my PO). Other than those GA folks I received approval for, it will be very difficult staying in touch with those I met on the inside.

I hate the idea that if I want to send a card or something to Freckles, Lola, or Taz, it is a violation of my supervision. Serious violations or repeat violations could land me right back in Carswell. Being as the authorities know of this blog (and may not be happy with all it's content) and know I'm the one maintaining it, I could be an easy target to punish. That, is definitely not something I want to have happen. I never want to be incarcerated again!

So, I have to trust that my friends know I'm thinking of them. Once in a while, I hear of updates, and I'll share some of those with you. For some of my former comrades, it could be years until we speak again. They are never far from my thoughts, however.

Lola LOVES Carswell Camp. Even the food is better on that side of the fence. They have a lot of freedom and the scenery and wildlife is wonderful to watch. Squirrels will literally come to your room's window and look at you until you exit your room with food. That's well trained wildlife! Plus, with Lola in the puppy program, she gets to spend her days with a happy puppy to hug and care for. How wonderful!

Freckles has had to go through a couple tough weeks at the end of her time at Carswell. The accusations that led to her termination from education went viral there, and she is the focus of a lot of gossip. Her birthday is this week, and I just pray our friends do right by her! She has three weeks to go - so ridiculous since she was supposed to get out of there two weeks ago.

Taz is working on a 2255 of her sentence. The 2255 is a basic appeal saying that your lawyer, the judge, or the sentence decision was a mistake. Many inmates file them, few make it to real consideration. Taz had a deal that turned out to be a lie and she never knew that they would pursue federal time for her. She has proof of conversations with promises that prosecutors would keep the case from going federal. She signed and then the federal charges came immediately after. So uncool!

By now, Nurse should have been transferred to Victorville. I pray they give her the protein supplements she never received at Carswell. I'm happy she can see her grand daughter again - that little girl is her pride and joy!

Mama's paperwork has gone through for a transfer closer to home. After losing nearly 150 pounds in less than a year, Mama is off 90% of her medication and all the docs cleared her for transfer. I pray that comes soon - as her sons are finally home with her parents and her family is so happy to be back together again, except for Mama.

I wish I were allowed to communicate with these and other friends. I truly care about their well-being. I guess I'll just keep them in my thoughts and look forward to the day that we can speak again. We've been through our worst together, I look forward to being able to share our best!

The Big Event

I used to be an event coordinator. There was a time when I would have 2-4 events nearly every weekend. Most for nonprofits and fundraisers. In my role as a graduate student now, I am rarely in an event coordinator role.

When I offered to volunteer this summer at my former job, I found myself being put in the role of event coordinator for an Academic Showcase highlighting the work the high school youth do during their summer. In just three weeks, we had to put together the plan for an event with 150 guests. Since I was there last year, I had a feel for what the event would be like. 

Tonight was the event, and it went off without a hitch. In fact, that colleague that decided to donate money on my behalf, gave a second check tonight - doubling the stipend I am now earning this summer. I guess I'm not a volunteer anymore. The donor, also, made a promise to donate the same amount next summer, so they can have me there. I guess I have a summer job next year (often grad assistants are only Aug-May since summer funding is hard to come by). I should receive my full stipend in 2-3 weeks.

Also, another coworker handed me some cash today saying it's to get me through the weekend. She won't let me refuse. This is her third time handing me some spending money. She's the one who told me to accept and not refuse - just say "thank you."

I can't imagine many ex-prisoners being handed money. I have never complained to anyone at work about being a volunteer, I took pride in just the ability to help out an organization I care about. I need to take what is happening and when I can afford it, pay it forward to someone in need. I never knew such kindness from people was possible.

I suppose my lesson from all of this is that we never know what our decisions will lead to. I had no thoughts about volunteering at my old job until I was on the phone with my boss and she informed me that one of the key employees (there are only 4 - small office) had a stroke. I immediately said, "well, then I'm going to come in and volunteer so I can help alleviate all the work" falling on my boss. She had to get permission for me to do so, and I had to pass that background check I mentioned in the past. I certainly had no thoughts that I would be paid, nor that I would become coordinator of tonight's important event.

It really is possible to move our lives forward swiftly after prison. There are no shortcuts and no guarantees. We can't have any expectations. We just need to be kind, humble, and willing to work hard. Now that my legal issues are in my past, I have only good to look forward to and tonight was a whole lot of good!

The Tough Decision

My insurance company paid me enough to replace my scooter with a new one. I started looking at all those available - 50cc maximum- so I can park at the bike racks on campus - and short enough that my 5' tall body can sit and my toes can reach pavement at stops.

There are three models - Yamaha Vino, Honda Metropolitan, and Genuine Buddy. The Buddy won out for several reasons and I was excited at the prospect of purchasing my replacement scooter this Saturday. It's been difficult without any vehicle of my own and it would be well ridden.

The other day, though, I was thinking about the insurance funds and just couldn't shake the feeling that I should not be spending that money on something right now. I still have a month until I receive a full paycheck, rent is due, I'll need to purchase text books, and I can really use some clothes that fit. So, I made the decision to put off purchasing my replacement scooter at the moment. I will revisit it in a month when my finances will likely be in a more comfortable place.

When the time is right, the Buddy will still be there.

One of the most important things we must learn during recovery for a financial related addiction is how to appropriately budget. In my gambling days, I would not have thought about the expenses to come or the importance of a little buffer. The same amount of money I received for a new scooter could be gambled away in a matter of hours. I didn't own a scooter, then. I couldn't spend money on anything but bare essentials, gambling, and vacations that included gambling.

Today, I have a choice. There would be nothing wrong with a decision to replace my scooter now. After all, the funds were given to me for that specific purpose. It just felt more "right" though to put that 'want' on hold and stay concentrated on needs until I know I can afford more.

Incredible Generosity

It's hard to accept other people's generosity sometimes. I love giving gifts, but sometimes it is really difficult on the receiving side. Over the past year, I've had to learn to just say, "thank you," and accept the gifts of friendship, money, books, cards and more from my friends and family.

This week, though, I've been overwhelmed by the generosity of a practical stranger. She works with the summer program at the job I've been volunteering at. She called me and told me that she will be making a donation to the organization so they can pay me for the work I've been doing over the past several weeks. She says she is impressed by my work and wants to give me the funds. Whoa.

Without being too specific, she is donating several hundred dollars, which in turn will be given to me as "project pay." The Director of the organization had to talk with her bosses to make it all work out appropriately. I did tell the generous soul that I could not accept such a gift, but she just poo pooed my statement and told me it was not a choice. So, I'm left simply saying, "thank you," and I'll add this to my missions of paying it forward one day. The funds will help me pay bills until I'm officially hired in mid-August. You hear about angels in this world, but I would have never guessed this woman was one of them. She most certainly is!

As a gambler, the idea of money being handed to me, that was unexpected, would have caused me to believe it was my lucky day and I would have likely lost every penny of it in a matter of hours at a casino. Even if it happened to be a winning day, I would lose even more than I won the day after. It was always a vicious cycle. Money would come into my hands and just as quickly go out.

Now, in recovery, I understand the real value of money. I keep a budget, try to pay more than minimum due on credit cards, and maintain a savings. I have not been able to do much financially since I have not had an official job. Now, though, I know that not only will I have the funds to pay my bills, I will have a slight buffer in case of emergency. I am able to hold onto money now.

I'm still in disbelief that this woman who barely knows me has decided to help me out. I guess it's yet another example of the idea that if you keep doing the right next thing, good things happen. There's a lot of bad in this world and if you focus on the bad, you will just wallow in it. If, instead, you focus on the good, you will be able to experience the beauty of the human heart. I am incredibly grateful to have experienced such beauty this week.

The Public Defender Debate

In my friends update recently, I asked you if you had any questions for me. One reader asked me about my lawyer experience. Specifically, her questions were:

Could you comment/write about the quality of your representation? Did you have a federal public defender? Private attorney? How much did it cost you (if I may ask). Are you satisfied? What recommendations do you have for a rising 2L in terms of connecting with clients, making your life better, etc?

I will attempt to answer this question best I can, as I sit across from T.S. at a Panera trying to not distract her as she studies for her Chemistry course. We have already wasted two hours as we looked at possible replacement scooters for me to purchase, she bought some great artwork online from a friend, we worked on her 2014-15 college schedule, and just generally enjoyed one another's company. We are going to have to be better at this "studying together" thing if we are to do it when Fall semester starts up. Okay, it's weird for a "semi" parent to study with her teenage "semi" daughter, but as you all know, I'm weird. Amazingly, T.S. is an amazing young woman who doesn't mind being around the adults in her family (as long as she is not hanging with friends). Whoa, off topic, sorry.

I remember that in one of my first posts, I mentioned that I had a public defender. I'm going to start with that decision. When I received a notice that charges may be filed against me, I started the process to obtain a public defender immediately. I did not wait for the charges to actually make it to court, I wanted to be prepared. I did not spend much time considering a non-public attorney, as I had very little funds (grad student and former gambler after all). If you are considering hiring an attorney for your defense, unless s/he is your best friend's sibling or something like that, you are looking at a large retainer - no less than $10,000 to retain the services, sometimes more in the ballpark of $25,000. I am so grateful that public defenders exist, because no one should go to court without one. There's a lot of game play that occurs in the courtroom and you need someone savvy enough to understand what's happening and object when necessary.

My only thought about hiring a for-profit attorney was that if I could hire a real savvy one, perhaps they could have kept me out of prison. We all know the O.J. Simpson story. Unfortunately, I am not aware of any best friend's siblings who are savvy attorneys who would have taken on my case for practically no funds. Nor, could anyone no matter how much you pay the attorney, make any guarantees that you will not have the book thrown at you or that you will be found innocent. It's just not something any attorney has within their power.

The other thing I know is that good people become public defenders. It is not a fall back career for lawyers, many great, smart people go to law school to become public defenders. They believe 120% in the belief that everyone deserves to have legal counsel and many believe that they will do something good for their clients. They can be just as idealistic as anyone. Not only that, they choose a career that pays them less than half what they would make if they chose private practice. During my law school days, I was always so impressed with my peers that wanted to work as public defenders.

The bad thing is, though, that you do not get to select your public defender. Depending on the defender, they can be any type of personality and some are just plain burnt out by the system. I don't regret my decision to go with a public defender, though. I could not afford more, and she was a skilled attorney. My assigned attorney had more than 30 years of criminal law experience and over 20 as a public defender. She always returned my calls, answered my emails, and listened to me. I cannot say that she was particularly savvy, however, nor did she take the time to truly understand my addiction/reasons for my criminal behavior. She was very matter of fact, and encouraged me to take a plea from the get-go. I was not planning on going to trial, so it was alright. Something many don't know is that even when you accept a plea, in the federal system they cannot promise you what your sentence will be. The judge decides that. The plea may include what the recommendations will be, but ultimately your sentence is decided by the judge.

My attorney was pretty certain that I would get supervision only, or spend at most 1-3 months in prison. She had no idea that due to my medical issues, I would have to be at a secured federal medical center. Nor, did the judge for that matter. My attorney's jaw dropped to the floor when I was given my 1 year and 1 day sentence. While my sentence could have been much longer, she had not prepared me for a sentence with a real amount of prison time. I told her from the beginning that I could be kicked out of school if I were to go to prison, she kept telling me to not worry about it. Even my pre-sentence report stated that a prison sentence may exceed the necessary punishment for me, due to my nearly 5 years of recovery and growth at the time. I'm not sure any attorney could have predicted how the judge would have decided my sentence. So, I guess I'm glad I didn't allow my family to go into great debt trying to hire an attorney for me. My public defender was fine. At times, she was good. I won't say she was great, but she may have been earlier in her career. I think she's been dealing with the feds too long and knows the limits - so she won't be savvy and push, she gets the job done. Period.

It's important to know how to find a public defender. If you receive any indication that you are going to be charged with a crime, you can contact the public defender's office in the federal district your case is/will be filed in. For example, if you lived in Texas and were going to be charged in Fort Worth, you would call the public defender office in the Northern District of Texas. They will likely ask if you know of any indictment or have received any documents indicating that you will be indicted imminently. They will then send you a questionnaire to qualify you for a public defender. You cannot have significant assets or funds. If you can pay for an attorney, than a public defender is not going to be assigned to you. Once you are assigned a public defender, they will likely get in touch with the prosecutor's office and find out the status on everything.

NEVER TALK TO THE PROSECUTOR'S OFFICE OR FBI WITHOUT YOUR ATTORNEY!!

Anything you say can be warped into an admission. If a prosecutor, state's attorney, private investigator, or the fbi contact you and want to "just talk" or send you a letter, or have any communication at all with you, you should not say anything. Immediately tell them that you will speak to them once you have an attorney. You have the right to that attorney and they cannot communicate with you without your attorney present. But, YOU must request the attorney or say you have one. They will not stop communicating with you unless you say you want an attorney present.

Well, that's a lot of information to digest and I'm not even sure I answered the questions adequately. I do want to answer the final question, though... what do I suggest for a student seeking to become a public defender. Here are some suggestions that come to my mind:

• Every client is not just like the last client. 
• Every person is unique and while some may lie, not all will. 
• While some clients may be guilty, once in a while someone may be innocent. 
• While the system is stacked up against the client, it is your duty to represent them to the best of your ability. 
• Stay aware of the changing law and recent appeals, use them to help your clients.
• Allow your client to tell you their story, if they want to share it. Most people have a reason behind their actions, it may not matter in the law, but it matters to them.
• Don't make any promises.
• Work within the system to make it more just. Be willing to challenge the status quo.
• If you have a client that is going to prison, be available to them just as a check-in before they go. Check in with them once while they are inside. You may not be able to do anything more for them, but it matters to know you were seen as a person and that your public defender still knows your name.
• Prepare for all scenarios to happen in court. Don't let your client see your jaw drop to the floor. Object if something is not right.
• If your client insists they are innocent, try to figure out if someone else is guilty.
• Don't just tell your client to plea if they are innocent, it may result in more prison time to go to trial, but this is their right to freedom they give away if they plea out.
• Be personable.

Well, I'm sure there's more I can say, but know that it's a very important right in the U.S. to have a public defender available to those who need them. It's a noble occupation to select and one that will certainly keep you on your toes. Balance your life between work and home - getting burnt out is never going to help anyone!

For most of us, there is no debate between having a public defender and hiring a private attorney. Money speaks volumes. Lots of money may help get guilty people off and having little money means we are much more likely to go to prison. It's a broken system. However, public defenders are just one piece of the puzzle and are very important to ensure some justice can exist.

A Friend

Something that rarely happens to me occurred yesterday. I was out and about running errands and I ran into someone from my old school program. We were literally standing next to one another, so when we realized who the voice next to us was, we immediately hugged. She was several years ahead of me and working on her dissertation when I self-surrendered, so I had no idea what she did or didn't know about my situation. We were friendly before, and I just didn't see her being too judgmental. In fact, remember that I deleted nearly half my Facebook contacts a couple months ago? Well, she friended me back a month or so ago, so I figured she was okay with me. Turns out, she'd known about why I was gone, but she hadn't known about my being kicked out of the program. I suppose many of the students are not aware of what occurred after I left for Texas.

Anyway, she had read on Facebook that I was accepted into the criminal justice program, so she congratulated me. She then asked me a bunch of questions around what happened to my being in my old program. I told her that it wasn't my choice for leaving and she asked more questions about that. It wasn't a long conversation, we were in a store staring at a shelf of shoes after all, but she was curious and I would be too, so I answered best I could. As we left the store, neither of us buying any shoes, I told Sporty that I really like the person and I was glad to have seen her. 

Unexpectedly, today, I received a message from the friend. She apologized for "ambushing" me with questions. I didn't really feel ambushed, but she said that it must be a difficult issue and she shouldn't have asked so many questions. What a kind thing to do! Most people would ask personal questions and never think twice about it. At some point, this friend of mine thought over our conversation and felt strong enough to reach out to me. I really respect that! I've always had a lot of respect for her, but it's always when things are difficult that we know who our real friends are - or at least the people we want to be friends with...

I've had several relationships adjusted to be closer or further based on this past year. What has been most surprising to me is that the people I now consider to be my closest friends are not the ones I would have necessarily named a year ago. There are some incredible ones who I will always be close with, but others have not been the kind of friends I deserve.

Although, I sometimes know that I am not always a good friend to others. Over the past several years, I've been on the receiving side the majority of the time... Health issues and legal issues weigh heavy on friendships! I still feel as if I'm not always pulling my weight in my relationships.

While I was incarcerated, mail was my favorite thing. However, about half way into my time, I stopped corresponding back much. I became much more dependent on this blog as my writings to the outside world. Honestly, I stopped writing when things got to be the worst in there, someone I cared about went to the SHU and I started receiving threats. Even my job became at risk. Also, I realized I was being kicked out of school. There was nothing good to write about and no one wants to write one depressing letter after another, nor lie and say they are great when they are not. I really owe an apology to all those that were so good to me while I was at FMC Carswell, and I wasn't a good friend back.

I wish I could say that I'm doing better now, but I'm actually not. I started sending thank you cards to folks when I got home, but I haven't finished them yet. I was trying to call and catch up with people, but I barely talk to anyone outside my closest circle. 

I'm finding myself needing a lot more quiet time now, than I did before I was at Carswell. I spend hours doing almost nothing, not even watching tv. I meditate, relax, work out, and play mindless games on my phone. Instead of waiting for the bus this afternoon, I randomly decided to walk a couple miles - something I never would have done in the past - especially with the heat. Even at my volunteer work, I spend less time chatting with coworkers and more time focused on what I'm doing in my office.

I should be calling my friends when I get home, but I don't. I sit on the couch and relax. I take in the quiet. I take Superdog on a walk. Maybe I'm too independent with my time now. I need to make a much better effort at being a friend, though. So many people have given me the incredible gift of friendship. I need to pay those gifts forward. I don't know exactly what the effect of incarceration is that has made me be more distant from those I care about, but I am going to make a conscious effort to be a better friend. I need to learn from the act of kindness from the friend I bumped into yesterday and apologize to all my friends out there. Know I care about and love you. I'm here and it's time I become the giver for a while!

Slab of Concrete

Sporty, T.S. and I live in a townhome that is very affordable and offers us ample room for all our things. It's fairly quiet and close enough to a couple shops and restaurants that we don't have to jump in a car when we need something small.

The drawback, though, is that it is a typical 1970's townhome with no upgrades. Imagine brown paneling  kitchen cabinets, incredibly squeaky floors, and very old appliances. We also often find that things are not holding up very well anymore. There's a portion of our floor that seems to be coming up, a large chunk of concrete missing from our stairs at the front stoop, and chips in both our bathroom sink counters. 

It is what it is, though. I don't mind the slight imperfections. I'm so grateful to have a home - with heat and air conditioning, my own room, my Superdog, and a washer, dryer, and dish washer. I don't need even all of this, I've heard of ex-offenders sleeping on the floor at someone's home, or even homeless, so you will never read a complaint from me.

I do worry about safety though. This morning, I opened the front door to let Superdog do her business, and the concrete slab that is part of our doorway literally fell right off.

It made a huge crashing sound as it fell. Superdog took little notice, but I was about to step there and I definitely took notice. The slab is too heavy for me to move, so it sits there on our front stoop, waiting to be tripped over, carried off, or just avoided. I wonder how long it will take this complex to fix it. 

I suppose these are the problems of the real world. They are so small compared to the realities of life in prison. There, a slab of concrete on the ground is a potential weapon. The doorway wouldn't be fixed for quite a while, but some make-shift thing would be set up for wheelchairs and walkers, or we would just have to avoid the door until it was fixed. Gossip about how the slab of concrete broke would find it's way around the entire compound until the most elaborate set of lies about someone doing something they shouldn't becomes the story everyone believes. Life is so simple on the outside - the slab of concrete fell off the doorway. Period.

The good news is that we will be moving into a rental home in about six months. A friend is moving and we will be renting her three bedroom home. It's not new construction, I'm sure we will do some fixing up at times, but it has the cutest porch and swing. It has a fenced in yard for Superdog. It has plenty of space to park my new scooter, when I choose it, and the storage in the basement is awesome. We plan to live there until I graduate... In other words, quite a few years! While I am in no position to purchase a home, this will be the best next thing.

Also, it doesn't have brown paneled cabinets, old appliances, or very squeaky floors - just a squeak now and then. It will be made into a real home. Even better, there's no cement slabs on the doorways to fall off. Something to look forward to.

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.

Letters of Recommendation

In order to be admitted to the criminal justice program at my University, I needed to include three letters of recommendation. For some reason, two of the letters were shared with me when sent to the department. Most professors do not share their letters, but these did and it was a blessing to read their words.

I know that I have a couple degrees, but I never felt worthy of them. I never believed myself smart enough - always comparing myself to the smartest people in the room and falling short. I always felt like an impostor. The "fake" me was earning these rewards, the "real" me did not deserve any of them. Even when I walked across the stage to gain my diploma from law school, already hired at a firm, it didn't feel like I'd earned that right.

My mind was sick. I didn't believe in myself. I saw all accolades as lies. Everything good that happened to/for me was by chance. I hated myself and knew deep down that everyone hated me too. The emotional illness feeding my addiction was all-consuming.

When I applied the last round to my doctoral programs, I cast a wide net. I did not know how programs would rate my past experience, as I was not always working directly in the education sphere. I was surprised to be accepted to my top choice and several other top schools. On paper, I look good.

So, what happens when you go from what's on paper to who I am in person? In my younger years, I was able to sell myself, but I did not believe a word I said. Even though on paper it was the truth, I felt disconnected from it. Undeserving. Although I'd been in recovery several years before my last round of applications, some of that still lasted... Was I deserving this opportunity in this program?

It was not until I finished my first year in the doctoral program, that I fully realized I was capable and that I did not have to be the smartest person in the room to succeed. We all have our own gifts and we each bring something different to the classroom, to our research, and to discourse. If we all interpreted everything the same, then no change would ever occur. No scholarship would need to be published. By the time I was in my second year, I felt secure, intelligent enough, and capable. I'd earned my right to be a doctoral student.

Now, here I am (re)applying to graduate programs. I have no fears of my worthiness. I earned enough high marks in my doctoral program to equal any top applicant. It's not intelligence that makes the difference between who succeeds and who fails, it is motivation, passion, and of course hard work. Looking back at my lifetime of success, now, I'm able to see those same qualities throughout. My success was not as an impostor, it was from hard, motivated work. 

When reading the letters of recommendation this week, I can officially accept that they are writing about the "real" me. I'm a whole person, with successes and failures, but even with my worst failures that led to unimaginable consequences, my successes still win out. I learn from my failures and try to do the right thing. No person is perfect, even if I held myself to that unattainable goal for most my life.

I will share with you one line from one of the letters. It said that I was probably "the top undergraduate that [she] had in [her] 30+ years of teaching." I have no idea if it is true, but it does not matter, because she believes it to be true and my being her student led to us both growing as people. I did not do my undergrad at some top university that earns accolades. It was a state school, and not the flagship state school. I never knew if I would have been accepted to a top school, I never applied. I left high school early, needing to leave my home life, and went to the furthest college I could and still be an in-state student. I do not regret that decision, as it allowed me the opportunity to learn from and work with the professor who wrote that line in one of my recommendation letters. Everything happens as it should.

I will sit down this weekend and write thank you letters to my three recommenders. Whether or not I am admitted, I know they put thought and effort into their pieces of the admission puzzle. I know I've earned their praise, even if it is sometimes hard to accept. I am smart and capable and I will add something unique to any program and classroom. I now know and accept that fact.

Supervision

It has been over a week since I met with my PO and I haven't heard from him, he has not stopped by, and I don't (yet) feel any strings pulling me (imagine a puppet). With the restraints of the past year, I feared supervision still resulting in the feeling of being contained. Instead, I feel remarkably free.

My only limit that I really feel so far, is the inability to travel out of state. Truth is, though, finances won't allow me to travel anyway. Without my scooter, I don't even have a current method of transportation. I'm taking public buses to/from campus everyday for my no-pay job. Luckily, I have a lot of quarters. So, my travel consists of where the local buses can take me and I'm comfortable with that fact.

Actually, there is one drawback. The 2pm bus I take home from campus everyday is the last trip before leaving work for the bus driver, so, he drives like a maniac! He swerves, he hits curbs, he drives in the middle of the street... I actually got motion sickness the other day and had to wear those motion sickness arm bands on his bus trip the next day. Luckily, today was his day off, so my ride went smooth and the geeky arm bands stayed in my satchel.

The bus stop is a couple minute walk from my home. Last year, when I was so sick, I wouldn't have been able to walk it. Now, I enjoy every bit of the walk - especially with the nice weather (although I understand the weather down at Carswell is so hot that they are closing the compound... It's never good to keep the inmates all cooped up for too long...). 

I imagine sometime soon, I will see my PO at work or home, or perhaps he will call. I'll be able to tell him about my application into the university, loving being back at my job, and that my goal is to be officially hired and start earning wages on August 15th. 

In the meantime, life is about trying to not spend money (never easy), keep my health up, stay grateful, and keep moving forward while I never forget the people I care about. I won't throw people away that matter. As long as I know I'm doing the next right thing!

I'm going to get to some of those questions a few of you wrote to me after the friend update very soon. I want to spend some time on them. I was also asked to be a guest blogger on someone else's prison related blog. I've never done that before, so I'm trying to work on the right topic. I never run out of things to write, but as all this blog's readers can attest to, some blog posts are better than others!!

I am not going to tell my PO at the present time about the fact that I'm starting to write a book - well, actually working on three books. One has been within me for many, many years, but I didn't know how to end it until now. Another has grown out of my recent experiences. The third is the book I wish I had to prepare myself for self-surrender. I have a lot of dreams and goals in my life, and now I'm embarking on one I've had for more than 20 years - to write a book that sells! I believe I have it in me.

Anyway, this post has certainly swayed around topics quite a bit, but the most important item I'm sharing is that being on "paper," "street time," "probation," "supervision," (whatever you choose to call it), isn't so bad. You no longer have someone pulling all your strings and controlling all your movements. You have choices and as long as you choose healthy, legal things, you will do just fine!

Keep your fingers crossed that the bus driver has tomorrow (oops, after midnight... today) off as well!!!

Opening the Door

Many of us have a lot held in. We have things we don't tell everyone, just our closest friends and family. It's normal to use discretion when we talk with colleagues- they don't need to know everything about us.

It is pretty great, though, when someone opens the door to a conversation you never thought you'd had. Yesterday, I realized that I did just that for a work colleague. She is very work oriented and while I know some basic things about her life and grand kids, I don't know all that much about her personal life.

While driving and walking to a meeting, yesterday, we started talking about nutrition and food. I was telling her about how food crazy I've been since coming back. That's when she revealed that when she picked her nephew up from prison, he was craving certain foods. She and I then talked a bit about her nephew and I could sense she was happy to be talking about him without any judgement coming her way. She has loved one or more people who have had an experience similar to mine and that was all that mattered.

In the past week of work (for no pay), I'm feeling great being in my old office and doing work that matters. From the very beginning, when I was first hired, we all felt that this was a perfect fit for me and the organization. Being back, I sense that everyone still feels that way.

In a couple weeks, I'll know my status for reentry into my university and whether I can accept the graduate research assistantship so I can continue working there. There's a part of me that knows this is all going to work out! Even if it didn't, though, it's good to know that I'll have this office of wonderful colleagues that I feel safe being open with, and they feel safe being open with me.

Hyper Sensitivity

Tonight someone asked me about the day I left Carswell. They wanted to hear how I felt, not just what I did. It's always so much easier to just go through the motions of the day, rather than how it all felt. At first, I said, "anxious," but that's not really the right thing. The closest I could get was, "hyper sensitive."

On the day you walk out of prison and into the rest of the world, everything is suddenly new once again. You get so used to the limitations and realities of life incarcerated, that you don't realize how insane everything is. There are bright colors everywhere. Signs advertising everything. Music. People on cell phone walking and not paying attention. People annoyed being in a short line. Space that has no specific purpose. Artwork. All kind of haircuts. Children. Laughter. Polite security people. Routines. Smiles. People who say, "excuse me," and, "thank you." Rude folks that bump into you. Smells ruminating from restaurants. The smell of McDonald's fries. People running places. Laptops. Pay phones. Calling cards. Cash. Empty chairs. Strangers. All kinds of shoes. Moving sidewalks. 

There's so much and it's all at the same time. Nothing happens fast at Carswell, but everything happens fast in the real world. Strangers talk to you. People sitting next to you are interested in what you are reading. You appear to be the only person without a cell phone, and everyone else's face is buried in theirs. I noticed it all. I tried to capture moments in my writing. There is so much we take for granted on the outside. I don't want to take anything or anyone for granted.

I'll keep thinking about the best words to describe that day, but for now hyper sensitive works for me. I noticed the little things that we usually stop noticing. After prison, tattoos are normal and dressing up is not. Pen and paper is normal and texting is not. A cafeteria is normal and a restaurant is not. A see through bag is normal and luggage is not. Grey and khaki are normal, red and black are not.

I'm home long enough now that I'm starting to get used to everything once again. T.S. did not want me to bring my cell phone with me to watch softball tonight, since I'm constantly using it. I left the phone at home. I'm back to posting nearly everyday on Facebook. I'm driving and not always paying attention to the constant advertisements in my face. I'm back to enjoying working with data and evaluation tools (total geek). 

I'm still quite aware, though. I walk a lot more, even if I don't have to. I try to make sure I thank people properly for everything. I'm more sensitive to the costs of things. I try to avoid khaki. I care about how I look a lot more. I tell those I care about that I love them every time I say goodbye. I still read my Peace a Day at a Time book every night before bed. I care less about what people think of me and have a lot more gusto to go after my goals. I say prayers for my friends still locked up and hope they will get opportunities to experience the hyper sensitivity soon as well.

At no point did I feel excited or particularly happy on the day I left Carswell. The minute Red was put in a cell, I felt the crushing reality of still being in BOP custody. Anything could happen to any of us at any time. I was at peace, though. I knew that I was walking out of the fences and cinder block walls for good. I was one step closer to freedom!

Healthy Goals

I think it's really important that we not only set goals around work when we are released, but we also set goals that will keep us healthy in mind and spirit. For me, that means trying to remain active and continue to lose weight. Even maintaining my weight loss would be a plus.

While I was in prison, it appears activity trackers became very popular. I was curious and put out on Facebook which ones were recommended. I keep a wish list for holidays, etc., and I was putting the recommendation on there. One of my incredibly generous friends had a different idea and yesterday I received a fitbit flex in the mail. Wow!

Now I can track my activities, steps, calories, sleep, and more! How wonderful!

So, here's the irony of it all... I am free, but I choose to have a device that tracks me and everything I do. I've never been handcuffed, yet I choose to wear a tightish "cuff" around my wrist. While I am no longer counted in my bed three times a night by security, now every time I roll over is being counted. I went from having to be monitored to choosing to be monitored. Ah, what is this world coming to?

I have to say, though, I already love my new fitbit flex. Yesterday, it motivated me to add in one more exercise video to my evening and I went for a short walk. I learned that I rolled over in my sleep 19 times (not to good at resting) and it offered me a silent way of waking by vibrating my wrist. I'm already excited to see how many steps a full day includes and if it will warn me that I've been too lazy when I spend my day at a computer. 

I know there are all kinds of ways to keep healthy. I'm not doing it all perfectly. However, something tells me that this little monitoring device might help me reach my goals and have fun doing so.

Friend Updates

I thought you may want some updates on some of my FMC Carswell friends. I'll start with Freckles. If you remember, Freckles was to finish RDAP and move to a halfway house by July 8th. She did graduate last week - yay!!!!! However, she finally received her HWH date and she isn't leaving until mid August. Another casualty of paperwork not being processed on time. She's keeping positive as always, but it's been a tough couple weeks. Like with what happened with me, somehow Freckle's name was put in the middle of some untrue gossip and it led to her dismissal from the department of education. She's an amazing tutor and it's sad that people can make stuff up and get people in trouble based solely on gossip. It gives her time to relax her last month there, so I guess not all is lost - and I know she will continue to tutor folks for free if they need it.

South, yes, I know, you haven't heard about South in a long time. Well, she's doing alright. Somehow, when she left Carswell, she learned that she had an additional six months home confinement. It is crazy that this was not known prior to her incarceration. She never should have been in prison, and now she continues to be under BOP custody. It ends in August. She's doing well, though. She is much healthier now that she has all her medications and can see her doctors.

Lola is doing well at the Carswell Camp. Her husband also made it through his heart surgery alright and is going back to work this week. Lola does not have as good a job at the camp, than she did at the FCI, but it's much more relaxed and she seems good.

Taz is seeking pen pals. She still has a couple years to go and she likes writing with folks. I imagine it would be hard doing time with no outside support or funds. She is also facing some unknown health issues and they say she needs immediate treatment, but have not yet told her for what...

Red is at home, working, and being a mom to her three kids. It took her about a month to find a job, but she was persistent and she did it! She plans to start classes at the state college and has many dreams and goals. I have no doubt she will reach them!

Mama is still trying to get transferred closer to home. The paperwork has been filed, so now it's a waiting game. Her parents are still fighting for custody of Mama's sons, whose father refused to return after a scheduled visitation many months ago. The judge seems to be on Mama's side and even the father seems to realize that raising two boys under 7 years old is a lot of work. Since he took the boys, Mama has not spoken with them once and she prays to hear their little voices again soon!

Danbury is not listed in the state incarceration database where she was fairly sure she would be after her release. I pray that means that she is home, close to her kids and her mom, and moving forward with her life. Somehow I believe our paths will cross at some point in the future.

It's important to never forget that there are decent people who are incarcerated. Most did commit a crime, but many are punished far beyond what would be reasonable - especially the women who find themselves at FMC Carswell. I'll do my best to make updates when I can.

I've written a lot over the last year, and once in a while I receive emails from folks asking me questions. I was thinking, I need to put it out to everyone. Do you have any questions you want me to answer or issues you want me to write about? You can leave a comment/ question anonymously (or not) at the end of this post. Also, if you have any particular favorite posts from this blog, I'd love to know which you have enjoyed or found insightful. Let's make this post a bit more interactive and I look forward to answering your questions and getting your ideas and favorites!

School Update

Last week, I had the opportunity to meet with a professor of criminal justice at my school. We talked about the possibility of my joining the department this fall. On Thursday, I received an email inviting me to apply, even though the official deadline was at the beginning of the year. He'd already talked with other faculty, and they will consider my late application due to extenuating circumstances.

However, initially, if admitted, I would not be a doctoral student, but a master's student in criminal justice. They only accept five doctoral students per year, and their incoming cohort was selected in December. The professor I met with came up with the idea of my applying to the master's program, taking doctoral level courses for this year, and applying into the doctoral program this fall, for fall 2015. Meanwhile, my first year courses would transfer into the doctoral program, so I won't be another year behind. I can also transfer in my credits from many of my education courses as electives.

I know what many may be thinking, why am I considering this switch from education to criminal justice? No answer is easy, but let me start with my past. When I attended law school, I knew I'd never want to practice criminal law - the system is just too flawed. Innocent people are locked up, guilty people go free, racial disparities are huge, and money buys freedom. I could never see myself advocating to find a loophole allowing a rapist to go free or prosecuting a person who I know will spend more time in prison just because of the color of his skin. Instead, I focused more on civil areas of law - employment and family law. 

I did assist a criminal law professor on an interesting research project. We looked at racial disparities for sentencing on similar amounts of crack cocaine. The findings were very telling of the racism within the judicial system. I also did a bit of criminal law research when I was working with an appellate level judge. Other than my own case, the only criminal law cases I ever stepped in a courtroom for was a teen's petty theft (friend's son) and a few traffic violations. 

In the early 2000's, I taught for six years at a college part-time. I mostly taught courses related to business law or for paralegals. However, I was asked to teach a couple criminal justice courses (intro to criminal justice and criminal law). While I never wanted to practice criminal law, I really enjoyed teaching it to college students considering a career in law enforcement. Maybe I could help them understand the ethics behind the choices they will make on the job.

Fast forward to my life over the past year, and I witnessed first hand how flawed our justice system continues to be. From the fact that people are threatened to take plea deals for far more than anything they actually did, to the treatment of inmates in prison, I knew that my future would somehow include connecting my passion for education and the need to advocate change within the criminal justice system. There needs to be more alternatives to imprisonment, and more programs to help people become healthy in mind, body, and spirit while paying the consequences of their prior actions. I want to be a part of the solution... I've always believed that you should never complain unless you are willing to try and change the situation. For me, I want to ensure that people, especially women, have a more humane experience through our criminal justice system. I, also, believe that education, as a preventive medium, as well as a way to combat recidivism is a way to bring my varied interests together.

So, over the next week, I will complete the application process. I struggled to identify my three references, but even though I am not asking anyone from my former department, I was able to ask three wonderful professionals, including two faculty I've worked with, who are more than happy to give me positive and supportive letters, despite their knowledge of my past. 

No matter how many may try to shame you, there are good people in this world that can see you for the person you are. Just keep doing the next right thing. Never give up on your dreams. You have to maintain hope.

I don't know if I will ultimately be accepted into my university's criminal justice program, but applying and putting my best self forward is the only way to find out. I know the Director of the department liked me (in fact, he wants to hire me on the side to tutor his son in algebra based on my sharing what my job was in prison!). No matter what, though, I found another open door (so far many more open doors than closed doors), and being open-minded, honest, and willing are taking me one step closer to getting back in school.

Independence Day

Officially, this is my 319th day from my self-surrender. The holiday and one day credit from the day of my arraignment, allowed my release day to be two days ago. It's officially Independence Day.

I thought I'd be more excited to celebrate this year, since I am no longer in BOP custody. Instead, I am thinking of my friends, locked behind the Carswell fence, and far from freedom. It always pissed me off a bit, at 8am every morning, hearing the Star-Spangled Banner playing out of the base speakers. Is this really the land of the free? I truly believe some people should be in prison, but I sit here and think about a friend, already inside for eight years, away from her three sons, for a conspiracy drug charge. She wasn't the ring leader, but mandatory minimums resulted in her kids growing up without a mother. I'm not an advocate for the legalization of drugs, I'm actually quite conservative when it comes  to issues around drugs, but I don't like how we criminalize it either. 

The drug industry exists for several reasons- one is addiction, and we shouldn't be criminalizing addiction. The other is because the demand in the U.S. outweighs the supply available. Drugs make money and we live in a capitalistic society. In some communities, the drug trade is the only answer out of poverty. It's a very sad reality, but true. My PO made it clear that I was a rare client - someone without a history of significant drug use.

I took a short break between writing the above and now writing... We drove to a parking lot in our town, parked, and we look up and there's fireworks going off in every direction I look, including straight up. This is a strange city for 4th of July. Instead of one big fireworks show, there are about 4-5 going off in every direction. It's like chaos in the sky. Plus, it's a state that allows people to do their own fireworks, so there are people setting off their own fireworks, too. We were driving down a main thoroughfare and a group set off a huge firework right in the middle of the center lane (three lane one-way road leading directly to downtown). Ummm, really???

As a kid, I was the child, under a bunch of blankets, crying at the noise set off by fireworks. I still don't enjoy the noise, but now it's like any other annoyingly loud noise. I do enjoy the beauty, though. I really love fireworks displays set off to music - those take my breath away. There's nothing like that here.

One cool thing I see in the sky, are these Chinese type lanterns with candles flying up into the clouds. I think they are selling them across the street. 

Okay, you can't really tell what that is, but it's a lantern flying up in the sky. I am imagining it to be a wish lantern and if it is, I hope thier wish comes true!

Once the official show started tonight, it was full of color. It reminds me of the night that Lola and I watched random fireworks above the FMC Carswell rec center. I think they are allowing the women to stay out an extra hour tonight and watch the fireworks set off by the military base. I know that just when the fireworks are getting good, it will be inmate recall and a big sigh will communally connect everyone for just a moment.

Here are some pics from tonight's fireworks:

Now, at 11pm, I am out at Denny's with Sporty, T.S., and T.S.' younger sister Hype (9 yrs old), and Hype's niece Minnie (2 1/2 yrs old). T.S. and Hype share a father and Hype's other sister is the mother of Minnie. Okay, no reason to go into their full family dynamics. What matters is that we don't define family entirely by blood, but by love. Anyway, we are at Denny's and they have a $2 menu, which is right up my alley. 

$2 pancakes at Denny's

I really didn't want to be eating after 8pm when I got home, but that hasn't worked so well. I'll have to work on it.

So, it wasn't a bad Independence Day. The fact that I'm out past eleven is what independence allows. In the end I had a good day. I'm thinking of my friends who are not so free, and also grateful that being incarcerated is behind me.

Happy Independence Day to all celebrating!

First Meeting with P.O.

I need to start by apologizing for not posting yesterday. By evening, I was really not feeling well and fell asleep in my clothes until morning (although I was woken a few times). I'm much better today, plus I was given the opportunity to start volunteering at my old job on campus, so today was a great day!!!

My first meeting with my PO went for 2 1/2 hours. He promised it would be the longest meeting we ever have. Here's pretty much what the meeting entailed...

The PO's office is in the downtown region of the smallish city I live in at a federal building. I walk in and I'm literally the only person in the entire entryway, except for three security officers. I'm immediately asked if I have any electronic devices - ummm, yeah, my cell phone. I'm told I cannot bring my phone into the building and I must go and put it in my car - along with any weapons I may be carrying. I say something like, "I almost took the bus here, it's a good thing I drove," which is followed up by them with, "yeah, it is..." So, if I took the bus, I wouldn't even be allowed to check the phone with security, I just would not be allowed in - period.

So, I go back to the expensive garage I had to park in, leave behind my phone (I don't have weapons...) and walk back in. This time, I go through the metal detector, which shows two 'hot spots' on my body - left hip and upper back. So, the only female guard wands me - it goes off on my zipper, my bra straps, and my bra closure. I think they have it all set a little too sensitive. After being pat down (I'm used to this), I am told to go up to the second floor and keep turning left.

I am the only one going up a grand staircase and on the second floor, the only person I see is another guard. This place is eerily quiet. If you wanted a good place for a haunted house, I think I found it. So, in the silent corridors, I turn left, left, and left and find myself at the federal probation office. It says, "come on in."

So, in my head, I had a picture of what a PO office would be like. Folding chairs set up in rows. Screaming children. Scary men with hating eyes. Okay, the DMV, only more chaotic and scarier. Instead, I walk in and it's empty. It is a small waiting room, with six cushiony chairs, a lamp, some brochures, and bullet-proof glass separating the waiting room from the administrative desk next to the door that leads to all the professional offices. With the box of tissue next to the table lamp, it looked exactly like a therapists waiting room. Once again, it was eerily quiet. The admin person was away from her desk, so I just sat down and comfortably waited in silence. I whispered the serenity prayer to myself.

My PO came out to introduce himself about ten minutes later. He has one of those names that is spelled a way that you think it's a common name, but in fact it's pronounced entirely different and you'd better not goof it up. He handed me an 80 question survey to assess my drug/alcohol abuse, mental state, and  thoughts about my acceptance of my crime. It's the kind of psychological survey that asks each question in three different ways to ensure honesty. I finished it in under five minutes.

The admin person showed up, opened the door, and asked if I was who I am. I guess they weren't expecting anyone else. This place was soooo empty - I mean, don't they have people that need to check-in? She explained she had been entering my information all morning into the computer - procrastination??

My PO brought me to his office. I discovered he has a law degree and he told me he's been working on all sides of the criminal process for a long time. He seems to like being a PO. He kind of made it clear that my educational/ professional background and my type of crime was not typical of the people he supervises on release. He said a lot of, "I guess I don't need to do [blah, blah, blah] with you..." It didn't stop him, though from being very tough on my restrictions on supervision.

Important to note, however, is that it is entirely possible to be released from supervision early. How does one do that? Follow ALL the rules, don't make them nervous about any behavior/ decisions, and always check in when you are supposed to. I have a goal of being off supervision by June 30, 2015. 

I had to do a drug urine test. A female PO watched me through one-way glass while I made a mess trying to catch enough liquid. I hate doing urine tests. I was embarrassed about the mess, and tried cleaning up the drips best I could. She said to not worry, they clean it up every night. Whew. 

My PO and I went through a lot of paperwork. There were forms I had to sign - like the fact that I'm prohibited from owning a gun or explosive device. I had no idea that some fireworks count as explosive devices under that rule and not only can't I do them, but no one around me can either. My PO said that a sparkler is the most advanced firework he would recommend.

It took a while going through all my rules and restrictions. He gave me a map of my state and showed me what constitutes my district. That is where I can freely travel. However, he is allowing me to the eastern side of the state for day-trips or quick outings. He may permit me to stay overnight on the eastern side for a GA conference coming up in August.

I am not allowed to travel anywhere else for 60 days. After that, I have to submit a travel authorization form at least 10 days prior to any trip I want to take. At least I no longer have to call in before/after every time I leave my house!!

I have to check-in once a month through a computer site. There's a report I will need to fill out each time. No matter what your crime was, the reporting is the same for everyone. The only other times I have to check in are when I'm needing to travel, I've had any police interaction, I'm called and told to come in, or my PO randomly stops by my home or work.

My PO is in support of my trying to get back in school. He knows that a job awaits me when I'm readmitted. So, for the next several weeks, my energy should go to that, and not finding an outside job. If I learn that I will not be back in school this August, I need to find a job and let the job on campus go. He gave me a bunch of job search forms to use as I apply for anything.

I have a form that needs to be signed at each GA meeting I attend. He needs proof that I'm as involved in GA as I claim. No problem. I told him about how Sporty and I started a new meeting for Friday nights. He said he may have some people to send to it (so much for not being around other felons -ha). As for that rule, I immediately got permission for Survivor and Hansome to be allowed contact with me, even though they have past felonies. When I explained how involved with GA these two are, he said he'd rather see me hanging with them, than people doing drugs who aren't felons. I hadn't realized that was the either/or scenario I must choose between.

My judge is also REQUIRING me to be in mental health treatment. My PO doesn't know why that is part of the judgment. So, he's sending me for an assessment at a catholic charities mental health center. I inquired on if it's a religious type of counseling, since I'm Jewish. He said that it's not religious, they are just the charity running it. I have to call for my intake within one week.

So, other general conditions of supervision include that I cannot commit another offense, I must allow them to collect my DNA anytime, I must support my dependents and meet family responsibilities, I must maintain a job unless given permission for school or other reasons, I have to give two weeks notice before moving or changing employment, no alcohol (it actually says no excessive use, but my PO wants me to refrain... fine with me!), I cannot be anywhere illegal activity is going on, I cannot be a special informant, and I must inform my employer about relevant information surrounding my felony (since I have a money crime, if I want to work at a bank, they must be notified... if I want to work at a bakery as a baker, they don't because it doesn't connect to the job duties...).

My judge added nine special conditions to my supervision, which my PO said is quite a lot and we agreed that she must've really disliked me. My PO will have access to all my bank accounts, tax records, and anything else financially-related I have. I cannot purchase or sell any assets without permission. I informed my PO about Hope and the fact that I may need to purchase a replacement scooter- he was okay with that. While it says that I cannot use any credit, get new credit, or loans, my PO thought it okay to reasonably use my existing credit and he'd okay necessary student loans. I am not allowed to gamble, nor frequent any place where gambling is occurring. I'm required to participate in a credit counseling program - although, my gambling debts are no more and within GA we believe in paying off our debts - not doing bankruptcy or working with a scamming debt consolidator. My PO agreed that the condition is a little out there and is checking with his supervisor on what we should do. So far, I like the reasonableness of my PO!

The big condition, of course, is my restitution. He started the conversation by saying he's seen people's restitution much, much higher than mine. Me, too - I know people who have millions due. While mine is not nearly like those, it's still a lot to come up with. The judge set my amount due at 10% or more of my income - no matter what my income is. So, if with my grad assistantship I am receiving $1200/mth - I would have to pay $120/mth. With a low income, 10% is a lot! Now, when I'm earning $3,000/mth in the future, and I owe $300/mth, at least I can live on $2700 minus taxes. My hope is to pay off my restitution faster than the 10% per month as I am able, so I can rid myself of the monthly payments.

So, that's what happened yesterday. Other than a contraband cell phone, urine dripped on the floor, setting off a metal detector, and a very expensive parking garage space, my 2 1/2 hours went pretty well. I hope my PO is able to see my seriousness in taking on these responsibilities, my acceptance of the situation, and my growth that helps me ensure that I am always trying to do the next right thing. I have no idea if my first PO meeting was typical, but it was okay. Okay, these days, is good!

The federal building was just as quiet as I made myself downstairs and back outside. Is it really possible that I was the only client visiting the entire building of offices yesterday afternoon? With budget shortfalls, maybe they are all on furlough...