The Solo Thanksgiving

At first, we were going to have a nice small Thanksgiving holiday. Then, a friend was going to come in and visit and it was going to be a bit more cheerful. Then, things once again changed and I am here by myself for the holiday. It's not the first time I've been alone for Thanksgiving and it is certainly not the loneliest. In fact, I am perfectly happy spending this holiday solo. I have a couple papers to be working on and can really use the down time for myself. I certainly do not require a turkey dinner to make myself feel special. I know I am loved and I did receive invitations for holiday feasts - only they were back home - out of state - and being under supervision, I am unable to just go. A couple days for me and Superdog to just spend together. Perfectly fine for me!

When I was in my gambling days, I spent plenty of Thanksgivings alone. Some, I would go to the movies. Perhaps I'd see 1, 2, even 3 movies. I'd feel sorry for myself that I had no family nearby and no one to spend the holiday with. I was either in school far away from home, all my close friends had left to spend the holiday with their families, or I was in a period of isolation from others. I'd inevitably be trying to get to a casino - depending on where I lived - a short 10 minute drive or an hour drive or a three hour drive from where I lived. Once at the casino, I no longer thought about Thanksgiving, I was lost in my dream world of diamonds, spades, hearts, and clubs, ringing bells, nameless faces, twirling die, and where money had no real value... my life had no value... the holiday had no value... my friends had no value... nothing had any value. Year after year after year of turkey days finding myself lost with nothing really to be grateful for because I didn't even understand what gratitude really meant.

As I embark on this year's Thanksgiving, I have a list much longer than I could ever write of things I am grateful for. Depending on whether I count from when I was released from Carswell or released from Home Confinement, I have officially been out for 5 months from coming home on home confinement and 6 months from Carswell. My life is good and full of wonderful people and possibilities. I have great friends, loving family, a Superdog, a job that means something to me, a new career outlook, this blog, GA and continued recovery, a livable budget, health insurance, opportunities, a reasonable PO, mentorship, spirituality, my Carswell connections, the ability to pay my restitution and pay as much forward as I can, personal growth, a home, a car, memories, and so, so, so much more... I don't need a day of Thanksgiving to remind to be grateful or Thankful. Everytime I make a choice/decision differently than I would have during my addiction years, I thank my Sponsor, counselor, and every friend who helped me through my early years - because I am able to make healthier decisions today - I am a better person today. I am not a perfect person - far from it - but a better person.

Anyway, so I spend tomorrow alone and I work on a paper and there's no better way for someone who was in prison a year ago to spend Thanksgiving this year! It's doing what I want to do and what I need to do. I have four papers to write - one is due Friday (small paper), two next week, and one the following. So, I have a lot of work to do. I'm perfectly happy and will enjoy the holiday - much moreso than last year and way more than all my years at movie theaters and casinos. I'm totally at peace.

Finding New Allies

The beauty of living life in honesty, is the ability to build connections with people who I'd fear doing so if I was trying to hide my past. Yesterday in my doctoral seminar, a new professor to my department was presenting on his journey through his education and how he successfully found a position in a top CJ program at a tier 1 university. It was an interesting conversation, but my ears especially perked up when he talked about his doctoral research and dissertation topic --- why employers choose to not prosecute employees who steal from their businesses. He is interested in white collar crime - from the business/employer point of view.

After the seminar, I approached him and said, very matter of factly, "I am one of those employees who worked for one of those employers you researched and I would love your input into my thesis..." I went on to tell him about how I am transitioning my blog entries from my time incarcerated into an autoethnography and he immediately drew a smile. He thought it would make a great thesis and also agreed that it has a high potential to be used in classrooms and elsewhere - because gaining this research is so difficult generally.

I asked if he would be open to talking with me about helping me present my past in such a way that I am able to be respectful to those who are the victims of my crime. I never want anyone to think that I do not think about the community (my community) and all my former friends and colleagues that were affected by my actions, even as I have done so much work on myself and try everything I can to help others. If I am going to be writing something public, then I want to make sure I am being contentious of how I am coming across to those who are likely to continue to harbor a lot of anger toward my crime.

After hearing this professor speak, I knew that he was the person who would be able to challenge me in just the right ways to make sure I have that point of view - the point of view of the victims - taken into account. It is the least I can do. While this research is about the experience of being incarcerated, I am going to have to introduce what brought me there and I there are just a ton of ways one can do that.

The professor already recommended a book of a man who struggled with a similar issue while incarcerated --- how does he balance the man he's become with the man he was... I look forward to reading the book. I actually picked up two books at the library today. One is called, "Out on the Run," and is a  book that is making a big splash for an ethnography written by a woman who lived among the people she was researching for six years while doing her dissertation research. I want to read it to see how her voice and thoughts are written throughout the book. The other book is called, "Doing Life," and is a woman's kinda autoethnography (it is edited by someone else) of doing time in prison. It did not receive good reviews, generally, and one thing I read in the reviews is that people should not care at all about the author, because she killed her husband. I want to read it, though, because it is the closest book to what I am going to be writing and I want to see what is written well and not so well in it.

However, I really want to learn from the latter book about how the woman presents herself. Going back to why I want to talk to my new ally in my CJ department, I do not want people looking at anything I write and saying that what I have written lacks value because of my past. I want to offer valuable research and I do not want personal differences to become what my writing becomes known for - that is not why I am spending years in school. So, it looks like I will be spending my winter break reading quite a few books.

In the meantime, I am just glad that my department continues to offer me incredible colleagues to work with who are able to offer me so many diverse perspectives. If I had to start all over again, I am glad it's a very different experience than the first time. The first experience was great and this is great too - just different and I will learn so much. The best thing about living a day at a time is that every day can bring us new opportunities as long as we are open to them!

Risking Rejection

When your in grad school, a ton of opportunities come through your email on a regular basis. Some are sent college wide, some to just the students in specific disciplines, and others are more specifically sent to students. Those are the ones that interest me the most, they are the opportunities that the sender specifically thought I might be a good fit for based on something I've done in the past, an interest I have, or something similar. Such was the case this week when I received an email inviting me to apply for consideration for a fellowship that will start this spring.

The fellowship covers some of the areas of research and interests I was studying prior to my incarceration, however, it is a subject that is not limited to education and applies just the same to any discipline in higher education - such as my current one - criminal justice. Therefore, even though my major has changed, I am still interested in the issues and could still be considered for the fellowship. The invite simply said that it was being sent to those of us involved with the project in some way over the past year or so. As we know, I was not part of the project at that time, I was prior, so I'm not sure how or when my name was added, but I received the invitation. Also, the professional colleague who is responsible for the fellowship is kinda connected to my former department in several ways, so I did not know if they would be open to an application from me. That's always my fear - the judgement - even though I can do nothing of other people's judgement of me. If I decide they will judge me poorly and let it affect me, then I decide to limit my own opportunities. That is not anyone's fault but my own. So, I will not let such fears hold me back. I wrote up my application. Stared at it for several minutes to make sure I had the courage to press 'send.' Then off it went to the servers in the sky.

An hour later, I received an email reply. It felt warm and friendly thanking me for applying. It actually said that they were "glad" I applied. Whew. I know many will apply. I will not kid myself that I will be selected automatically. I am just glad that I did not allow all that negative talk in my head and those fears stop me from taking this chance. The fact that I've feared that this formerly wonderful collegial relationship was forever tarnished is not (based on the warm response) helps me already feel as if I have been rewarded for applying. Sometimes, we need to put our best selves forward and take a risk. We may not get what we want, but we may actually get something even better - one less fear holding us back!

A Carswell Shower

I'm not sure what occurs that makes it happen, but every so often, I am right back there at Carswell and it's as if Scotty has beamed me suddenly. It happened during my shower. It should have been a quick in/out shower, but instead I was in One South during the holidays of 2013, The Grinch who Stole Christmas was our Theme. My roommate hadn't been busted for drugs yet. South and Lola were my constant companions. We were all so lonely for our families and friends. Thanksgiving without our loved ones was the pain we tried to hide.

South is home and I pray is happy and once again surrounded by family. Lola is still at prison camp, but at least she's not behind the fences. Taz has a couple holiday seasons to go. I hope this is Mama's last, maybe Glitter's too. Nurse is closer to home, in California at a camp (or at least I think she is). I am not sure if Cali was close behind her or is still waiting. Chi will be at the camp for several years yet. I wonder what the holidays are like at the camps. Red is home with her babies. Freckles is at the halfway house, but will be on home confinement before the end of the year. I'm so glad she gets to spend her holidays with her husband. 

For those still behind the fence, their creative minds are running rampant right now trying to come up with a great unit theme. The bragging rights for being the best decorated unit is huge! The creative talent is unbelievable. I was explaining to our niece this weekend that I think so many of the women get mixed up with drugs and illegal activity because they are brilliant creative artists, but cannot learn traditionally in school and fall through the cracks. To survive, some end up on the streets and make choices that result in illegal activities. Their art, though, is incredible. I saw people create things in five minutes with subpar supplies that top art students couldn't do in weeks. Its not just one person, either, so many of them!

Not sure why all these things came to my mind in what was to be a quick shower, but I immediately knew that I need to make sure that my friends know that someone cares about them during the holidays. I may not be allowed to write or email, but they are allowed to receive books from Amazon. Perhaps a shipment of books will be finding their ways into the hands of some of the people I care about over the next couple months. They may never know they are from me, but they will know that they are not alone for the holidays!

A Simple Weekend

We had visitors for the last several days. Sporty's parents came in and we've been enjoying their company and keeping very busy. Six of us have been snuggled throughout our home, and it feels like a real home. I totally enjoy days filled with short road trips, sightseeing, a little shopping, listening to family stories, spending time with the young adults, and being a host. 

Sporty's father was recently diagnosed with the beginning stages of Alzheimer's. These are the times we need to cherish and he's still has quite the memory. Sporty's mom is full of energy. She's a lot of fun and just loves hanging out on facebook and being around family. If she could, I think she'd stay through the end of the week. They leave in the morning, though.

Today, I spent much of the day with T.S. and her first cousin Bracelets. They are just three months apart in age and have always been like sisters. Bracelets goes to school a couple hours away and joined us for the weekend since her grandparents were here. Today, the three of us went to the library together and, using the pomodoro technique, worked on our separate papers for school. We successfully studied for about 3 hours and avoided distraction using the technique. Success - and I taught them a new way to study. I have a lot more to do on my paper, but I'm much further than I was prior to today!

Tonight, I saw a decent movie, Whiplash, with T.S. and Bracelets. They are young adults, so it's very nice that they want me to tag along with them. Family really is awesome - even when they aren't the ones that are blood related.

Oy, I'm soooo tired and I have to be up at 6am to attend a conference for work. So, I'll just be grateful for a very nice weekend.

Distraction Overload

I want to quickly update that someone must be mysteriously following this blog, because hours after posting my troubles, a phone call came and Enbrel found its way to my front door today in its cooler like packaging along with paperwork that shows a six month approval. No more month to month approval - it'll be automatically delivered through April. It's almost as if I still have those same miracle workers looking after me from the outside like they were when I was locked up and fought for my Enbrel approval in prison. It'll take a bit for my body to catch up, but I just hope for less days like Monday when I fell up the stairs...

Funny, I wanted to write tonight about distraction and as I was writing the paragraph above I received a text from T.S. simply with, "??" She'd asked me about thirty minutes earlier if I could help her find a source on a writing topic she has. I said, "yes," finished whatever I was doing, and then started writing this. I'd once again gotten distracted from what I intended to do. It's a miracle I remembered to come back to this blog...

In fact, I'd say that, lately, not more than ten minutes into any homework, assignment, project, work obligation, TV show, conversation, song, movie, anything,... My mind is somewhere else. It's horrible. It's rude. It's doing me a disservice. I'm in one class thinking about two others. I'm at work thinking about holiday gifts. I'm in my car putting seven different reminders in my phone. I'm paying bills and the next thing you know, I'm uploading pictures of my niece to my mom and sister.

I'm thinking that my head is especially like this right now because the semester end is near, I'm working on four different research projects, and so I'm juggling a lot of information in my head. I once compared my constant thoughts to someone flipping the channels on a remote control. Right now, I think my head is more like a broken search button on a radio that searches, stops, catches about ten seconds, just starts to like a song, then suddenly starts searching again...

I need to start setting mini goals, using pomodoro, and cutting myself off of the Internet when studying and in class except when necessary. I guess I just put all that out to the world, so I need to start trying. I'll start Monday. 😊

Mandatory Counseling

When the Judge sets your sentence, there are usually several additional provisions given that only pertain to your post prison sentence and are part of your supervision. For me, my Judge put mandatory counseling on my paperwork. This was put there because the Prosecutor requested it and the Judge pretty much went 100% with the Prosecutor's recommendations in my case.

My PO put me in for counseling at the one place they send all their supervisees --- the local catholic charities nonprofit organization --- perfect place to send a nice Jewish girl. That's okay - a good organization is a good organization. Anyway, it took until today for me to have my intake (four month wait), and I made my way there to fill out all the release papers and spend an hour with the assigned counselor, who was quite nice.

I opened up immediately. I have nothing to hide. I nicely shared my story and my recovery. I shared my experiences of prison, life in Carswell, continued support through GA, and life in school, etc. As we started to get toward the end of my session, the counselor said that she could not come up with any goals for my counseling. In the end, she said, "I really do not see a reason for you to be in counseling at this time." I had to agree, but I said I would continue if it is court ordered.

The counselor said she would call my PO and tell him that she did not see a reason for counseling. She said that she would also write something up for my PO about why she felt I did not need to continue counseling. So much of what I needed counseling for I did prior to my federal charges. The Prosecutor put in my paperwork that he thought I needed the counseling because back in 2008, when my life was in total chaos, I was suicidal and broken. Six years later, I am strong and aware of my addiction, and the "whys." I like myself today. I am as far from suicidal as I ever have been in my life. That doesn't even come close... I am just not suicidal at all. I am strong. I am okay with judgement. I am okay with the fact that I am far from perfect. I love many. I am loved. Life is good. Life is not perfect. I am okay no matter what. In the past, none of that was true.

I believe in counseling. Had I not had five years of regular, intensive counseling, in addition to my GA recovery, I would not be able to be the person I am today. I am SO grateful to the program that gave me nearly free counseling and the woman who was a superb counselor and who really, really got me and challenged me in just the right ways. I felt safe and there's no way I held back. I grew and I finally understood that I was not "broken." I forgave many. I forgave myself. I let go. I came to acceptance.

It's just that today I don't need that kind of counseling - not that I won't in the future. Everyone goes through ups and downs. I shared exactly where my life is today, and the counselor just saw a fairly well-balanced person. I certainly still have my good and bad days. I certainly still have anxieties. Overall, though, I am okay. She sensed that. I did not ask to be taken out of counseling. I'm okay having someone sit and listen to me. I love to talk... I was happy, though, to hear her say that there was not a necessity that she could see for me to keep coming. It means that I must be continuing to do something right on my journey of recovery and hope. It's always good to have these check-ins.

Ultimately, my PO and the new local Judge will decide if I have to go to counseling or if I can stop. If they want me to keep going, I will set aside an hour every other Wednesday and be there for the exchange of ideas. I can always learn something and, if anything, I can tell that the counselor was willing to learn more about gambling addiction from me. That happens a lot - we end up teaching about our addiction when we are the successful people to actually be in recovery from it. Whatever happens is fine. Once again, we never know why we are where we are - maybe someone will see this counselor that needs GA and she will remember me and the meeting we started and she will send them our way... maybe that is why I needed to be there today or two weeks from today, or even longer. Maybe, I will learn something I need in my life. Whatever happens is fine. All I have is time to find out.

The Enbrel Crisis

Call your congressmen and women, the President, the local media, anyone who will listen... We are in a crisis... There must be a shortage of Enbrel in the world! No, I'm just joking... There's no shortage that I know of, just incompetence- I think.

Enbrel is an essential part of my medication regiment. How it works and why, I couldn't tell you, just that it helps me have far less pain, stiffness, and fatigue. I inject myself twice per week with the medication that includes some DNA from mice (I believe) and it makes all the difference in the world. 

We already know that Autumn isn't the best time of the year for me, too, so when it was time for my delivery this month (delivered each month on ice from a specialty pharmacy after an approved renewal through my insurance), I never received the phone call to schedule delivery. I called the pharmacy several times, and they said my doctors office never completed the authorization. I'd call my doctor's office and they'd listen to me, call me back later that day and tell me everything is approved and delivery will be scheduled later that day. Then the same cycle starts all over again. It's been 2 1/2 weeks of the same story. Since I receive my medication 2x/week, and this cycle started before my final treatment I still had, I'm now 1 1/2 weeks or 3 treatments off now. 

I'm a mess. I hate to admit that. My stiffness is 3x worse than before throughout my body. I can't reach down and touch my toes, which I proudly could do before. I get winded walking up stairs. I have pain in places I'd forgotten could be painful. I'm sure my inflammatory markers have skyrocketed.

I'll call everyone again tomorrow. I'll explain once again that I still do not have my medication. At $3,000 or so per month, and the need to come from a specialty pharmacy there's no way to just get some... I happen to have an appointment with my doc this week and I know that it will all be sorted out perfectly by then. At most, I'll go without four treatments and then I'll be back on track. 

At Carswell, it took a month to get approved for my Enbrel and that's because I had outsiders advocating with the right people. I went without Enbrel for 9 treatments. At that point, I was barely walking, breathing was heavy, and I slept all day. I hate that I have a chronic health issue that is so controlled by medication, but at least it is controlled to the point that I can control it and my health doesn't control me. I will be back on Enbrel soon. It's a first world problem that I'm having to wait as long as I'm having to, but I can wait. So, call off the emergency search party for Enbrel, I'm sure there will be some on its way to me soon.

Restorative Justice

Is there a real alternative to the criminal justice system? Is there a way to make victims whole, make offenders responsible, and create communities of care? The answer may be restorative justice? I say "may be" because it really depends on how well the program is run, the protections, the process, the goals, and the ways it is implemented.

A good restorative justice program can result in less offenders in prison, victims of nonviolent crimes getting made whole quicker, and levels of pain, guilt and shame reduced for all. Not everyone agrees with this type of program, though. It's a voluntary program. It's usually used with juveniles. The idea is that all the victims and the offender come together with a facilitator and everyone gets to speak in a very systematic question and answer way. It's about release of pain, forgiveness, hearing everyones voice, apologies, understanding why's, agreeing on punishments, etc. It's a little feely type of justice, but it does work in some contexts.

In my class tonight, one of my classmates mentioned that he thought it would be good to have victims get a chance to try a process after prison to tell the offender how much harm they caused. This is the opposite of restorative justice and I just couldn't keep my mouth shut. I said that so many of us carry way too much shame and guilt into prison and we work so hard to be able to move forward in our lives after doing our time. At our sentencing, we hear everyone's story of how much harm we did. Why would it do any good to put us in front of another firing squad after releasing us from prison. Well, that silenced my class...

I guess being out about my experiences allows me to be a little more emotional in class now too... for better or worse.

In much better news, I officially have my thesis topic and I'm writing on it ... well, kinda. My thesis Chair (he agreed to Chair today) loved my idea of turning my blogs from the time I was in Carswell into an autoethnography. So, between now and end of summer, I will be tearing apart all those writings and writing about 1-2 themes based in criminal justice. The goal will be to provide usable information that can be used to study female and federal prison issues. I'm excited that my experiences may be used in classrooms in the future!

A Felons Right to Vote

A lot of people are usually surprised to learn that congress left it up to the states to decide whether a person with a prior felony has a right to vote - in state and federal elections. Seems odd, felons in one state are allowed to vote for the U.S. President, but felons in another state are not. This year, of course, is not about who will run the country, so much, as who will run the state, local judiciaries, seats in the U.S. house and senate are up for grabs, but as an "off" year, less people will vote than during a "presidential" year.

It's sad, really. Around my campus, the 'get out the vote' campaign was just not that large compared to two years ago when everyone was talking about the election. I hate to admit that I don't even think T.S. is registered to vote (if you are T.S., I'm sorry to say I don't know that you are)... it would have been her first election. People are just not that excited to vote. No one has them talking that much in our state - although they should - our current governor should be ousted - but most people don't even know the person's name running against him. It's so sad!

Like so many others, I HATE all the political ads. I fast forward them, turn a blind eye to them, just generally get so sick of them. But, I still do my homework. I bring up voting guides on my computer and read non-partisan guides to the polls - what do the candidates write to the questions asked? I must admit, I vote a democrat ticket. I will not vote for a republican, because I am not a one-issue voter - and I cannot vote for someone who will go the party line on so many issues that I am against. However, some things - like referendums, judicial candidates, etc are nonpartisan, so I have to read the voter guides to see what the real arguments are and see who is endorsing each side. That gives me a much better understanding of the issue. Sometimes things are written in such a way that we vote the exact opposite of what we mean to vote on an issue. I don't want to accidentally do that. Every vote counts!!

So, why am I doing this? Because I gratefully happen to live in a state that allows felons to vote. It's one of the first things I looked up when I realized I would have a felony to my name. There are so many people in this world who have no rights to say who leads their country's, who reigns over them, who declares the laws of their land, who sits on their judicial benches, etc. We have a right that we take for granted. It wasn't so long ago that women did not have that right. African Americans did not have that right. The disenfranchised in this country have fought so hard for the right to vote. We cannot take it for granted. I am a felon and I have a right to vote and I will vote in every election - big or small because I can!!! My vote matters. My experiences help me be a more knowledgable voter. I'm grateful to have this right!

Whether you have always had the right or not --- go out and vote today!!!!

Oldies but Goodies

Today was a good day. I spent time with friends I've barely seen since being home from Carswell. They are the few non-school friends I've had here and are truly wonderful people. Once we sit to start talking, it's like no time has passed and we can just talk for hours. I love those kinds of friends.

The amazing thing is, though, that none of us live very far away from one another. Yet, months, literally have passed since our last time together. These are two different friends that I met with separately and the truth is, I only blame myself for the failure to ensure that we are getting together. 

After all my friends did for me while I was away, all the gratitude I have for each and every one of them, how is it possible that I fail to see some of them when they live so close? How do I fail to contact those that live further away? I haven't failed keeping in touch with my mother or father, so why do I fail so many of my incredibly friends who never fail me??

By the way, my father is still hanging on there. He's in his third round of chemo & radiation. His brain tumor is still there, but has not grown. A new cancer growth is now in the bone in his hip. That's the third location. I finally have permission to travel to see him in late December. Docs are planning on doing another PET scan right around then.

Back to my failure with my friends. For the most part, I must admit that I do not hear complaints from my friends. They know that school, work, studying, etc keep me very busy. It is very true. I think it's something deeper though.

There's a part of me that knows that I'm not capable of being as good a friend as so many are to me. They have such incredible patience and compassion. I get so lost in thought and sometimes miss a whole conversation because my ADD put me completely somewhere else. I know I do what I can for my friends, but I am always amazed at the incredible kindness of those around me. It's like I'm a not as smart Sheldon, and I'm surrounded by all the Big Banf Theory friends who make my life so wonderful. At least that's how I feel sometimes :-).

I certainly am grateful to have some of the best people possible in this world to call friends. They are interesting, generous, intelligent, kind, sincere, foodies, adventurers, family-orientated, diverse, humorous, passionate, capable, creative, fun, lovely people. I've known some for over twenty years, many for over six, and a few for just a few... And some brand new folks too. Doesn't matter, I know good, when I see good.

Whether we see each other often, every couple months, every few years, or just over facebook, it's okay by me. I know that the next time we pull up a chair next to one another, it will be like no time has passed and our friendship is just as fresh. I may not be deserving of the wonderful that is you, but I am certainly not going to easily let you go!

The "F" Word

It's so freeing being able to talk openly with everyone about being a felon. Last night in class, a student made a comment that felons can never get jobs and I went, "hey," and everyone laughed. Just little things like that make life so much better and at the same time, I actually get to catch people when they are using stereotypes and generalizations that are not true.

Now, I will actually agree that most felons have a very hard time gaining decent employment after gaining the big "F" (felon) added to their application. My suggestion is to always try to find ways to use your past as an asset. Also, education should be an option because there are jobs on campus and that could help boost your resume too. If you have a "I can't" attitude, then you won't. If you have an "I can" attitude" then with your hard work, you WILL! 

I think I do still catch people off-guard now when I just "bring it up" in conversation. They may be talking about what the cost of communication from prison to home is and I'll say - well, I generally spent $70 per month on phone calls and email was five cents per minute... Or we will talk about the lack of benefits for felons coming home and I will mention how Obamacare in extended medicaid states ensures that all ex-offenders get medicaid immediately upon release. That's how I continued my care after FMC Carswell.

It's just so freeing to not just think the thoughts, but to share them. I'm their living, breathing example. I'm N=1 in research terms. In the US 2 million people are currently incarcerated and millions more are on parole or supervision and many millions more are ex-felons. Once again, I'm not special nor unique. In my classrooms right now, though, and for me, my experiences are unique and I'm so happy being able to bring insight, and even some laughter at times, into the classroom.

Back to the halfway house?

In class tonight, we discussed a newly published book entitled, "A Halfway House for Women." It was an ethnographic study of a state run halfway house in the northeast and I must say, barely anything about it was like the halfway house experience I had. Then again, from what I've heard, most people's halfway house experiences are nothing like the halfway house experience I had. As I wrote about at the time, I was in a state-run program that was an alternative to jail for most of the people there - they had to do daily programming and most were there for drug/alcohol related offenses. Only four or five of us were there for federal crimes during the short stay I had.

Unlike where I was, there are halfway houses that are entirely federal. Most of those are either all male, or mixed gender. There are very few that are for women only. The mixed gender ones often keep the men and women entirely separate, but some only have a handful of women and mostly serve men. Gender responsive programming is nonexistent in those places. There are also halfway houses that are all female. Some are really small and are like real "houses" and are less transient and women live there for longer periods of time. One women I know lived in a halfway house for 1 1/2 years. Some are very institutional and have 120 beds that look just like they never left prison, except they are wearing their own clothes and once in a while they get to leave.

An interesting conversation tonight was around "smoking." Smoke breaks - specifically in some state run facilities - are quite interesting. Like the place I went to, the book we read, had women going on smoke breaks getting to go outside, where the few women who did not smoke did not get to venture outside at all. The ability to get fresh air, even if it was filled with second hand smoke, is a privilege afforded to only those who have a very unhealthy habit (no offense to my readers who smoke). There should be opportunities for non-smokers to enjoy fresh air without smoke. In fact, there should be more opportunities to be outside without smoking than with smoking. Shouldn't healthy actions be rewarded? Ah, but if the action is not funded by some government or other agency, the halfway house has no reason to consider the rule.

I sometimes hate that I've become so cynical in the last year and a half. I was trying to think of the themes that may run through this blog and so many of them are about how broken the system is. I mean we all know, I guess, that bureaucracy is always going to be troubled, but from the day I entered Carswell to the day I left, my experiences were riddled with cumbersome hurdles that simply made no sense, sights and sounds that no one should ever witness, norms and mores that are quite the opposite of normal, and a true breakdown of my own character. It wasn't until tonight that I was thinking about my second day at Carswell when I proclaimed to my overbearing bunkie, "I am here for my own time, not anybody elses." I was so proud of myself for speaking up for myself. I was so amazed at the voice I found inside myself - that I wasn't passive and that I had not backed down when I was in fact scared.

What I discovered today, looking back, though, is that the system totally broke me, though. Through my many months at FMC Carswell, I did so many things I never thought I would ever do! Things I couldn't even write about on here - because I knew and I was told straight out - that many CO's and some of the Education Staff were reading this blog. I had to be careful what I wrote, yet write the truth at the same time. I couldn't write that I was in fact making bracelets and anklets and selling them on the black market. I couldn't write about the day we saw Lola at the camp and Freckles and I waved like crazy to her hundreds of feet away as she waved like crazy back ---- praying that no one would catch us. I never wrote about who was buying commissary for who or who I ever bought commissary for or why. I didn't write about who was doing my ironing and how I could never do my ironing because there were four irons for 300 women and if you didn't pay someone to do your ironing you didn't get your stuff ironed - even though such things were technically against the rules. I didn't write about the few times I helped out someone with something legal, even though I really did it on the down low --- as down low as I could and how guilty I felt when I couldn't help others. The reality of the SHU and the threats of officers always hanging over me. This blog kept me a known inmate. I had to be careful - especially after the threats in January. I couldn't write the details of those threats and how I called home in tears and scared everyone back at home and told them to take down this blog because I was afraid of what was going to happen to me because I was hearing it from staff and inmates - even people I had never met. It was my birthday weekend. I couldn't write about things that were happening in my rooms - things my roommates were doing. I couldn't write about all the illegal activities I was witnessing. I saw more drug activity than I have ever seen in my lifetime - dealing, snorting, swallowing, begging, hiding, etc. I witnessed many bottles of hooch being made and I have to admit - I took a tiny sip of one once (horrible curiosity) and it was THE most disgusting thing I've ever sipped in my life!!! It tasted like alcohol pads! The makers of such hooch drank the entire cooler of it down in under an hour. I never tried any drugs that were not prescribed to me. I witnessed people stealing from people, from guards, from officers, from education, from medical, from everywhere. I saw more sex in more outrageous places than you could imagine. People get really creative! I never had sex in prison. I saw more officers turn a blind eye to illegal activity, non-illegal but against the rules activity, and the like than when they'd actually stop such activity. It depended on who, what, and where - it also depended on whether there was a security camera, and if another officer was a witness. I watched people intentionally put themselves in the SHU to be locked up with their with girlfriends. I watched people intentionally get other people in trouble and send them off to the SHU.

There was so much WRONG that I could not write about - because if I did, I could get people in trouble and then I'd be a snitch and a snitch gets in the MOST trouble - not just from other inmates - but CO's HATE snitches. CO's do not want someone making them busy - they are busy enough as it is. If you put a note under the door of a CO's office telling them about some illegal activity, chances are, it will go into the garbage. It may be read, or not, but you will never know. They keep a log - a detailed log - of all the goings ons in the unit - I'm sure their gossip of all of us is quite good. I wonder if this blog was logged at times or bookmarked on their computer, who knows. What I do know, is that I wrote the truth in my blog, but I was not able to write the whole truth. I'm sorry for that. Protection of self and others won out. At the same time, everything you do read is the truth and my feelings were certainly the truth. Sometimes I would write entire paragraphs and then have to delete them because I'd realize that I may be "revealing" too much about something or someone. It sucks to have to monitor one's own blog - one's own experiences.

I hope this blog has been helpful anyway, because what has always made it to the posts of this blog are the realities of the friendships, the communities, the resources, and the lives that made being at Carswell bearable from day to day. So many people are still there and I think about them every day. If I did not have the fear of a violation of my supervision, I would be writing a person every day, yet that fear still exists over my head. I do not want to go back. I do no good for anyone if I am back in prison. I am not allowed to have contact with anyone there. I tried at first, I must admit, but it got messy and it just wasn't something that could be sustained and I don't live in secrets and lies. So, I must follow these rules. They suck and I love my friends, but I do more good for them trying to make a difference and staying out of prison - at least I hope I do. I just pray they know that I have not forgotten them. I promised them I'd write - I did initially - but not for a long time now. It sucks. They probably think I don't care or I've forgotten them. I haven't I think about them everyday --- Lola, Chi, Taz, Nurse, Cali, Glitter, Longwinded, and so many others.... and then there were the ones that are out that I am not allowed to communicate with - Red, My Bunky, South, Danbury, etc. How are they doing? Are they making it okay? I just hate these rules!!

I was not the best follower of rules in prison, although I think I followed the rules more than almost anyone else I knew there. There's just no way to really survive prison without finding ways to show some resistance. I was kidding myself that second day there - I needed to be there for others because I needed them to be there for me! However, being on Supervision is a whole new game. I cannot show resistance. I am not living under the same rules. It's just me and my P.O. now and I don't have a community of norms that build ways to resist all the rules. The rules protect me from going back to prison and I don't want to be back there again.

The cycle of prison to halfway house to home confinement will end here. It's better now to just be reading about the experiences of others and able to compare such experiences to my own and others I know. As for the book I read for class tonight, I honestly do not recommend it. It will scare you more than needed for the halfway house experience. It is even scarier than the one I went to. For most women, their halfway house experience is boring, filled with unnecessary programming, and just more bureaucracy until they can go home. Best thing to do is to find a job, find a place to live if you don't have one yet, and move through the levels of programming at the halfway house quickly. Do what they tell you to do so that soon, you can start doing what you want to do --- hopefully in a healthier/smarter way than before you first got locked up.

Be the Captain of your own Ship

In my preparing for success in the PhD program course today, a professor spoke of how to be successful throughout grad school and rule number one was to be in control of your own destiny. No one is going to hand you anything. You have to go after what you want. Start immediately.

I suppose that's been what I've been doing since my release, and perhaps prior. It does not just apply to grad school, it applies to life. We can't just sit back and wait for life to happen to us, it's our job to make it happen for ourselves.

Sure, there's the rare instance where someone does nothing and great things just come to them, but much more often, people work hard, show motivation, and have initiative, and that's what makes things happen.

Today at my job, I watched five youth get pulled out of their tutoring session to meet with the director. They were super nervous - all high school sophomores. I knew why, but they didn't. I watched their faces as my boss started to talk, their nervousness turning to smiles. They've been selected to be put forward for potential scholarships through our university. It's only offered to sophomores involved in pre-college programs who have earned high enough GPA's in high school so far. These five youth earned their nominations and they may receive their first college scholarships before even taking their ACT's! Hard work and initiative!

I heard a story today from a friend who had to give up custody of his sons, even though he knew he was the best patent for them. The court was biased against him/men. He continued to pay for the boys well-being and was a good man to his ex-wife and sons. Two years later, his ex-wife gave him full custody. He believes this happened because he was doing everything right by everyone. Hard to do, but his ex-wife noticed and decided he would be the better parent.

Getting back in my school was all about motivation and initiative. I guess I would add the willingness to take risks and accept failure and rejection and move beyond it quickly is a plus. 

The other thing is that it is never too late to start. I've started from scratch twice in the last seven years. My friend started from scratch twice as well. We often start over after divorce, loss of job, etc. For us felons, our release is a new start. Remember that you are the captain of your own ship. If you want a new job, go after it. If you want to meet that new cute neighbor, introduce yourself. If you want to go back to school, apply. If you want to reconcile with someone, make the first call. If you want to change your life, change it. No one will do these things for you. Believe in yourself!

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.

And she passed...

I was the last one who spoke to her. I had called her and told her I loved her and to sleep peacefully. She didn't make it through her first night. I'm glad my grandma suffered little if any pain. I learned of her passing during my staff meeting this morning and I stepped out to call my parents and start to figure out arrangements.

I still could not reach my PO. At least this time, his voicemail was not full, so I was able to get his emergency cell number, but he didn't answer that. No one answered the general office line either. I was asked to pick up my aunt and uncle on the way home, so getting in touch with my PO became that much more urgent. Funeral will be Monday, but I need the weekend to put together a beautiful long montage (and find/scan the pictures), and my aunt/uncle need to be in town to be with family (as I do as well).

The montage will give me a nice purpose and gift to my mom, aunt, and uncle. I happen to have vhs tapes of my grandmas wedding (not sure what kind of camera my great grandpa used 68 years ago to film it), honeymoon, some of the childhoods of my mom, aunt, and uncle, old family picnics, and more. I'm currently digitizing them to my computer so I can take clips of my grandma from them to include with pictures in the montage. Some of the videos I don't think anyone even knows about and I don't even know how I got them! I'm going to separately surprise my mom, aunt, and uncle with a copy of the full videos of the childhood one because I know they don't know it exists!

Anyway, none of this matters if I couldn't get permission to go, so I got resourceful and called the regional office. I explained the situation and they gave me the office assistant's direct line here where I go. Voicemail. So, I tried my officer's office one more time. 

He answered!!! I apologized for stalking him and he said he was going to get back to me... About my vacation requests... He hadn't even listened to any of my messages yet!! I explained that I was calling because my grandmother passed away and I needed permission to pick up my aunt/uncle and leave the state for four nights... La la la...

He heard me out. He told me that I can let me mom know not to stress because he will grant me the trip but I needed to go into the office this afternoon. No problem. I went into the office at 2pm. I didn't leave til 3:15. We talked the entire time.

I had to do a vacation request for the trip and I will need to bring back a program from the funeral - I guess people lie about such things. He also granted me permission to attend my friends' wedding reception in November and when I explained the invite was done by evite, he logged into my evite to see it before he granted the permission. 

He was much more reluctant to grant permission for the trip to see my father in December due to the length of trip, modes of transportation, and short time I've been on supervision. I had to promise to stop at another parole office while there and attend at least one GA meeting at each city we vist (we would do that anyway!). Hoops, but that's okay! Permission granted.

She was not only a great grandma though - she was one heck of a great person!!!

When I Feel Limited

Tonight, I officially feel like I'm in custody again. I received one of those calls you never want to receive. My grandma is ill. She has Alzheimer's and we've slowly watched her deterioration over the last 6+ years. For some families, it can be 20+ years. I guess we can be seen as lucky in that regard, although we certainly do not feel lucky. The person my grandma once was is no longer there. She kinda looks like the same person, but she recognizes no one and remembers nothing. She doesn't even remember what foods she enjoys. When I saw her last week, she was still laughing and talking, but she was forgetting how to walk. I told her I love her and she told me she loved me, but I knew that she didn't know who I was. She was always a great actress. I do love her, though.

My grandma was officially put on hospice tonight. It won't be long. My mother told me to come in as soon as I can. I will. If I can. I've left two messages about unrelated things for my P.O. in the last week. I haven't heard back. I dropped off two documents for my P.O. yesterday, he wasn't in. I tried calling my P.O. tonight when I got the news, his voicemail is full and I couldn't leave a message. I couldn't even hear his message where he leaves the "emergency" number, because it is full. Tomorrow, I will have to search for another number to the local office somewhere on the web. I hope it's not too hidden. It seems my P.O. may be on vacation or something.

I can't go to my grandma if I don't get permission. Also, there's always the possibility that since she's likely to pass quickly, my P.O. may limit how long I can go and I will only be able to go in for the funeral. Since we are Jewish, there's the sitting shiva piece... our funerals don't last just one day... I wonder if my P.O. has ever had a Jew on his caseload... something tells me that given where we are located and the low percentage of Jewish people in federal custody, it's not very likely. We shall see what is and what is not permitted. I know my P.O. does not distrust me and I know he has a heart, but he follows protocol. I have no idea of the protocol if he's not in town or off.

I want to be there specifically to relieve some of the tension from my mom and step-dad. I don't want my grandma at the hospital alone and confused as she is going through this. My parents have a lot to do and they also have to work as they will only get some time off for the funeral. I have the weekend off, they do not. I can study there. This is what we do for family and it's one of the reasons I chose to go to school within a couple hours drive of where my family lives.

Wouldn't you know it, though, that this all happened on the day that Sporty and I started our elimination diet. All day we've been eating nothing but limited fruits, limited vegetables, some tuna for lunch, etc. No caffeine, no beef/no chicken/no pork, no beans, no gluten, no grains for me, no nightshade veggies, no to so many foods... and now, instead of completing my two weeks of this elimination diet and then slowly reintroducing foods, I'm going to be traveling and back with my family which means - we need to put this elimination diet on hold. Our headaches and other effects of getting through day 1 will have to happen all over again in a couple weeks when we start all over again. In honor of my grandma, though, I'll keep with her tradition. She always said to avoid "white foods." Those were her words on how she always stayed so thin. She said, "I never put anything white in my mouth." Ha, she cracks me up. I look forward to seeing her soon and telling her one more time, "I love you!"

My Secret Wish

I haven't mentioned this here before. The timing never seemed quite right. I mean, how does one admit that despite all their troubles in the world, they still hope to be called, "mommy," some day? Back on Mother's Day, I wrote about three amazing children I co-parented for a couple years prior to my gambling recovery and who were never mine legally. Walking away from them broke my heart into a million pieces. T.S. has been a wonderful light as a "step" daughter through the past six years. 

I've always wanted to adopt, though, especially out of foster care. I've always wanted to make a forever family with a child who never knew what a parent's love could really be like. Due to my need to have a hysterectomy at 35, I can't have my own, and honestly there are so many kids being raised in foster homes, so that's the direction I want to go.

The big question is, though, am I allowed to adopt? I don't mean just now, during supervision, but even after, as a felon? My crime had nothing to do with children, but an extensive background check is done. I've read the laws and I can only see that they do the background check, not the exact offenses that would disqualify me. In some states, it seems any felony would disqualify an offender. 

I think it's crazy, because if I happened to have a uterus, and I got pregnant, I'd be allowed to raise my child. However, since I can only adopt, I may not be allowed to.  Obviously, I agree that some crimes should keep people from adopting - as we need to protect the children. Any crimes against children or sex crimes of any type at the very least - perhaps also any domestic violence... 

I'm a firm believer in second chances, though. In this case, we aren't only talking about a second chance for me, but also for a child who may be able to have a forever family with me. I've been permitted to work at an organization that helps at risk youth, I have a history of working with youth, I pray that in the future I will also finally have a home full of my own youth!

Car Dealers

Yesterday, I had the privilege of taking a new friend who recently moved here from Africa, used car shopping. He's perfectly capable of buying a car on his own. He's well-spoken, intelligent, in his 40's, and certainly commands more initial don't screw with me power than I would in the situation. As we all know, women are not usually respected by most car salesmen... They talk directly to the males!

As my friend is new to the country, though, and really did not want to be taken advantage of, he was smart to ask someone to come along with him and I was better at negotiating on his behalf than I ever thought I would be. It actually can be fun helping someone else choose a car! Used car salesmen, on the other hand, are not all that much fun.

With Sporty along, who truly was the the expert among us, we looked at several lots and many, many vehicles. My friend was very quiet, asking questions where appropriate and really allowing me to take the lead on negotiations. We found some decent cars, even were given some decent offers within the price range, but it wasn't until we found a Honda van that my friend seemed close to ready to really want to talk numbers. Before we could, though, he needed to show the van to his wife.

Here's where this story gets interesting for me. Honda let us just take the van to where my friend lives to show it to his wife and kids. You know how the dealer usually joins you for a test drive? Not at this place. We did the test drive without the dealer too. At one point I said, "we're going to take the van to Disney World," and the dealer said, "see you in a couple months."

Okay, we didn't go to Disney. We took a test drive. Later, we brought it to where he lives so his wife could see it and get her own test drive. She liked it. Other than a copy of my friends I.D., Honda had no other information on us, not even our phone numbers. Never in all my life have I been given the keys to a car and just told to return it later.

I suppose we look innocent enough and the van isn't a new car. Here's the thing though, I'm a felon on supervision. I can't believe there's a Honda dealership that wouldn't even require someone to leave something behind if they are taking a car without a salesman with them. They were right that they could trust us, I may be a felon, but I have no intention of ever commuting another crime again in my life. I do not think like a criminal or want things the way a criminal does - I prefer to earn them.

We returned the van and my friend will work on his financing tomorrow. It's a good investment for him and his family. It felt good to spend the day helping him and, as Sporty put it to me, I'd hope someone would do something similar for me if I needed that kind of help in another country. 

One more positive came out of it, the guy at Honda offered me a job. Actually I'm sure he was joking, but he said it numerous times. He also said that I am a very talented negotiator. Yeah, I was pretty hardcore in negotiating - even if I am a female!!

A Kindred Spirit

My new CJ friend sent me a PDF of a book chapter that she thought I may like. She said my story reminded me of the author of on of the non-fiction stories. His name is Charles M Terry and he spent his young years addicted to drugs and in/out of state prisons. When he was a bit older, he caught a longer sentence in Oregon and finally got himself clean and found an outlet in education.

After release from prison, he started at community college and eventually went all the way to his doctoral degree in the social sciences. For a while he worked at University of Michigan - Flint campus, later, University of California - Irvine. I could find one book written by him and a journal article, but nothing recent. I can find no mention of him in the last six years.

Early on in this blog, I had found an article about a professor in Texas who also obtained his PHD after prison. I've actually reached out to him and told him that his story provided me hope. Perhaps one day I can ask him how he gets around certain restrictions on research we have due to being felons. The things no one else would ever have to consider who has perfectly clean background checks.

We need to fill the walls of prison education rooms with stories of men like these two guys. Not that every person needs to get their PhD, but that prison and naysayers didn't stop them. Perhaps some day I could do a study of academics with criminal pasts and find some basic ideals - mentoring, hope, determination, ... Who knows what the big characteristics may be. I'd love to hear more stories. Their stories give me even more hope!!!

As for my sentencing guidelines presentation, well, to be honest, we rocked the house! It went really well and I was so proud of the group I worked with, our hard work, our growth of knowledge, and our ability to actually impress our professor. So glad that's now behind me, but I do have lots of thoughts about sentencing guidelines if anyone is ever in the mood for a soap box speech --- what???? No takers???? Okay, goodnight then.

Whoa... What Happened?

Wow, almost a week since I've written and it was not intentional. I'm trying to think to my life pre-incarceration and I can honestly say that I may be in the same town and at the same University, but my day to day reality is so different. 

I know that I wrote before about time management, but it's more than that, this shift in curriculum focus is a huge change in how my courses are structured, work loads, types of assignments, and time commitments. Although my job is the same, we are all helping pull the ranks for a fellow colleague who is still recovering from a stroke earlier this year. It feels great to be busy and needed, but I'm finding little time for taking care of myself and ensuring balance.

As the weeks have now passed into nearly half the first semester behind me, I'm finding my niche in the criminal justice department. I really respect my cohort of fellow students and enjoy the discourse a lot. It's quite different from the conversations I was having around education, and I do hope to find my way to bring all my knowledge and interests together, but I'm feeling completely engaged in the discipline of criminal justice and motivated for a future where my work may be able to influence policy change and add to the dearth of knowledge surrounding women and crime. 

In some ways my life feels so normal now, that I nearly forget that I am still not free. I cannot consider opportunities for the summer that would take me out of state for an extended period or the country at all. I cannot do some types of qualitative research studies, at least for now, because I am not allowed to knowingly interact with another felon. I cannot attend a large conference in Canada, ever, unless I am given special permission from the Canadian government after I am off supervision. 

Aside from the professional limitations, there remain the personal ones. A friend is holding a wedding reception next month and I need permission to leave the state to drive there to attend. My dad is going through his third round of chemo and radiation, as his cancer has now spread to his hip, and I need to get permission to fly to the southwest United States to see him in December. I was not able to drive four hours to watch my 96 year old grandfather throw a pitch to his favorite major league sports team on his birthday (70 other family members were there). I always need enough advance notice to get permission. It's not a big deal, but how many more years does he have?

Supervision isn't bad, though. At least so far, I've had it really easy. Other than day one, I haven't had to pee in any cups, provide any other bodily samples, done any squats and coughs, worn any uniforms, been denied anything unreasonably, had any surprise visits, been harshly questioned about my choices since release, or disrespected. What a difference from life in the BOP! 

I'm still told to walk in front of my PO, in case I have bad intentions (I don't); to stand against the wall as he makes copies (like a good soldier); and I am never treated like a peer. In his office I sit far from his desk with the back of the chair against the back wall. I address him with proper manner. I am not given authority to email my PO, only leave messages on his cell. And although each day for three months has been good, I know that things can change in a heartbeat and it is entirely outside my control. That is the reality of not truly being free and being under federal supervision.

In other news, I chose to tell a fellow CJ student about my past. She and I are on two group projects together and are forming a friendship. As I've written before, I hate talking around subjects or feeling as if I have some big secret life - that's the old me. Anyway, she took it really well, once the shock left her face and her jaw lifted from the table after I started with, "I have something to tell you. I am a felon."

I knew she'd be cool and she even looked at some of my pics of me with folks back at Carswell. People are always surprised that we take pictures. Those $1 photos that take us months to receive with fancy backdrops and we can't touch one another but can pose "appropriately" pictures... As we always said in there, "you just can't make this shit up!"

My friend agreed that I should wait til later in the semester and tell my story to my prosem theory CJ class when I do a more detailed intro of myself that we all have to do during the semester. I wish I could video everyone's jaws dropping as her's did. A bunch of people studying criminal justice with all these preconceived ideas of what and who a felon is... She is me.

I'm letting you down...

It's 4am am I just got home from my school library... It's been that insane for days!!! I'm so sorry I haven't written. I will soon... Much to share... Miss writing here and to all of you out there!

Home Sweet Almost Home

It used to be that when I visited my hometown, I automatically felt like that was home. Now, it's the people that make it home much more so than the places. Spending the night with my folks consisted of small conversation and watching an episode of NCIS New Orleans off their DVR. They weren't on their devices playing Words with Friends, I guess that's an improvement!

Getting my life back on track so fast has been good. I was able to take on all my financial responsibilities and have asked them for nothing. I don't need their advice and when I do tell them about what's happening, they just ask, "are you still working out?" When I tell them about being in a flare up, they look genuinely concerned, but know they are powerless as they watch me pop my pills throughout the day.

We are such different people and my recent experiences are helping me to not have any expectations but to just accept them for who they are. I know they love me in the way they know how. I am loved unconditionally by many and they are as much my family as the one that raised and judges me.

Last night I attended one of my favorite GA meetings. It's a meeting Sporty and I started in my hometown about five years ago. It's a really strong meeting now and there were a lot of familiar faces and many new faces. After I spoke, some people shared that they'd heard about my story in the rooms or that they were at my five year pinning last summer or that they too had the possibility of facing prison. So many of us connected by our pasts and now our recovery. I am so blessed to have found this program and that my story can help others. Everyone's story has that capability, I am not special or unique, I am merely an example of someone who continues to seek hope in the face of adversity. Recovery has given me that tool.

That is why it's okay that life with my family does not need to be perfect. Life is not perfect. My hope is not to change my parents because that is out of my control. My hope is to continue to build my family of choice to be the people that make home feel like home and feeling loved feel like love. I love my family and I know they never doubt that. I love all the people I consider family - even some new ones that I met behind the fences. My hometown may no longer be home, it's truly where my family is that I am at home.

Officially a Flare

I heard from my docs today. I'm officially in a flare - a fancy way of saying that my chronic health condition is acting up. Well, we king of knew that, right? I was already feeling yucky before the flu shot, so perhaps the flu shot was the last straw. The good news is that my doc put me on a high dose of prednisone yesterday and I'm already starting to feel better. I got a good night's sleep and I can function today. Prednisone is like a devil in a white dress... it makes you feel great, but it's really an evil medication. I was once on it for nearly six months. I'm hoping to be off it after just a week and not have to taper the dosage or anything. It's a good goal and my docs are on board with it. I can live and work through mild pain and inflammation, just not the extreme that I was suffering. Too long on prednisone and I'll get "moon face" again - definitely not something I want ever again --- a round face that literally is shaped and bloated like the moon!

Tonight is my last class before a weekend reprieve. Sporty, T.S., and I are headed to our hometown for the weekend. I will celebrate Yom Kippur with my family, attend a G.A. meeting, spend time with Sporty's family, and hopefully see a bunch of my friends as well. It'll be a quick couple days, but it's the first time I am leaving my state while on supervision. It's that reality that I am not quite free to live my life, but I am so grateful that I was given the permission to travel home without any suspicion. I wish I was feeling better, but it doesn't have to be perfect, what matters is that I am going. I'm worried more about the several hour drive, than being there, but we have several stops to make along the way, so I'll get out and stretch, so that will help.

My weekend is not exactly a break, however, as I have two papers and a major presentation due next week. I will be trying to find time for reading, writing, and preparing. Once I am back at school, I will have two days of late group meetings to make up for the inability to meet over the weekend - Monday and Tuesday meetings going to 10pm - because my professors like to put us in group projects. I love collaborative projects, but finding times for everyone to work together can be difficult. I'm all for great technology - like google docs and others online that allow us to edit same documents in real time - but people like to meet, and they seem to see me as their lead. They are all just out of undergrad and not as familiar with the writing protocols or technology. I'm trying to pass the agency on to them, but they look to me to delegate. It's okay, they are incredibly intelligent capable people!!!

For me, I am getting to be creative in my work in several ways. In one presentation, I am using Prezi, which I enjoy so much more than PowerPoint. It makes it so much more fun in preparing for presentations. I am creating graphs/charts with lots of data (which I enjoy). I'm also getting to use my legal brain now and then, which can be fun. I'm really enjoying school.

So, being in a flare sucks. It's hard to sit for a long time in the uncomfortable seats usually available. It's also hard to stand sometimes. It's hard to type sometimes. It's hard to lie down at times. Well, sometimes anything can be difficult. Yeah, flares suck. But, I am not letting it slow me down, because I not only need to do my work, but I like doing my work. Isn't that what we all want?!?!?

An Offender in the Classroom

There is an offender in the classroom. Everyone sits around the table, talking about what causes crime, why people commit crimes, how to best understand the dilemma of criminal justice and we talk about person "x" - those people, those juveniles, those 'others' who have gone through or who will go through our systems of justice. I'm likely not the only one. Sure, some others have gone to court for traffic violations. Perhaps, there are some who faced the realities of our criminal justice system when they were young, or by watching family members stand before the court and/or hugged them goodbye as their family member left them for prison. There are a million reasons these incredibly smart colleagues of mine chose to seek graduate study in criminal justice.

I see everything I learn from the lens of an offender. I see it from the lens as a recovering addict. I see it from the lens of someone who still knows so many people who are away and who talks with other women facing the reality in the future. I'm not just a researcher, I am one of us, one of them... My professor said to a fellow student tonight about conducting research, "the women are all on probation or parole and you are not," and I am sitting in my chair thinking, "well, for me, I am!" I am on supervision. I am who we study. I am also the researcher. I can separate my role of researcher from the research I am conducting, but it does not change my identity. I am a felon who is on supervision.

When my colleagues learn about my history, which will occur at some point (I am not living the double life anymore), I often wonder what kind of reaction I will receive. Will they look back on their discussions and think about the assumptions they made over the prior weeks? Will they feel less comfortable with me because of my background? Will I become an n=1? (One of my professors referred to me last week as an N=1). N=1 means refers to sample size and we as researcher always try for as large a sample size as possible. A sample size of 1 is not at all generalizable - it's one person's story and cannot be explained for anyone else in society. It's once you study a large group of people that you can see patterns and start to understand behaviors...

Anyway, as a convict in a criminal justice program, I am essentially an N=1 when it comes to white collar crime, federal prison experience, experience with federal prisons and chronic illness, federal supervision, felons and graduate school, yadda yadda yadda... in fact, it would be difficult to find too many other "N's" that would be in similar situations as me. Sure, we can study women with white collar crimes, but it would be much lower for those with chronic illnesses as well... in fact the "N" would make the study non-generalizable because you want studies with thousands of similarly situated people if you can... that leaves us with more qualitative research methods, which I enjoy anyway. Plus, my own background can come "into" qualitative research methods moreso than quantitative research methods - I can reveal my background - which is important because I need to reveal it so my research is not criticized for lack of disclosure.

I suppose, this all comes down to the reality that as an offender in the classroom, and as an offender who is a researcher in criminal justice, there is a constant reality of knowing who I am matters when in comes to the work I do and how I interpret what I am reading and doing. I will need to look if there is anything out there about offenders as grad students... if not....hmmmm

I'm so happy to be a grad student. I am learning so much. I have so much to give as well. I belong here still. So, glad I took the risks to get myself back in. Fear would only have stopped me from trying. Maybe my N=1 will help others and one day there will be 2, then 5, and maybe someday there will be 100, and perhaps a real study could be done about us - maybe one day my story won't matter because it will already exist. Something to ponder.

Pain in the Neck

As someone with a chronic illness with medications that result in my becoming immunocompromised, I'm always told how important it is for me to receive the flu shot. Last year, I didn't receive it, because Carswell could not answer the simple question on if it was a live vaccine or not (immunocompromised people cannot take live vaccines). So, they did not give it to me. I got through the season unscathed, amazingly, and now it it once again that time to make the decision, to vaccine or not to vaccine.

Honestly, it's a no brainer for me. If I'm allowed the vaccine, I'm all for it. My doc on Friday learned that I'm able to definitely take the injection, but not the nasal or other forms and so I received my flu vaccine in the early afternoon Friday.

Friday evening, the pain began. It started in my neck, then down spine into shoulder blades and across top of left shoulder. Movement could cause the pain to go as high as a 7.5 out of 10, and I know my pain. 

I've been really working on not complaining and working through pain, but when I could barely move my head Saturday, I knew something was up. It was even worse sunday. I kept trying to figure out if this was part of this "flare" that my doc was telling me about, but it didn't seem to fit anything from my past.

I happened to have a doc appt set up for this morning to get referrals scheduled (thank god) so I asked the doc to look it over. The tightness and pain was incredibly evident and he wanted to give me something strong for the pain, but all narcotics do are make me sick and I'm not able to take Aleve/Ibuprofen type meds. So, muscle relaxers were all he could do. He wanted me to sleep for three days, but I have way too much work, so the only drowsy pill is for nighttime, but today, the daytime pill did nil... Ugh.

Anyway, this is what's wrong with me (this time): since I am immunocompromised, my body reacted to the flu vaccine and thinks it has the flu. Soy neck, muscles, shoulders, are all in flu symptoms, even though I DO NOT HAVE THE FLU! Okay, even to me that sounds weird! I have no other flu symptoms at all, but my muscles are totally in spasms and tight and in protection mode - especially on the side the shot was given. It's rare, but with me, what else is new??

My doc made it clear that I am to still get the flu shot annually, but we will want to make sure I can take a couple days off after and have scripts ready beforehand in the future... 

I can see my request for time off now: "Dear future employers, please give me the next week off so I can recover from the flu shot to avoid the flu so I don't miss a week of work... Thanks!"

Such is life!

Be well and get your vaccine! Trust me, this is not likely to happen to you! 

Sentencing Guidelines

I'm on a group project looking at sentencing guidelines from a historical perspective, pros and cons, etc. - mostly from state perspectives, but I get to throw in some federal stuff. We present in a week and a half.

It's a great group. Very hard working and oh so young!! They are all just a few years older than T.S. I forget how old I must seem to them. They all look to me as thier leader and I try to look to them, but they are less than a month into graduate school and still scared. A feeling I do not share.

Anyway, I think our presentation is looking fabulous! Honestly, I'm learning a lot about how sentencing guidelines came to be. They started to stop the disparities that were occurring in sentencing based on race and gender, but the problem was that (and continues to be) that people are individuals. Ever since thier initial passage 20 years ago, they have gone through amendment after amendment as commissions and legislatures grapple with how mandatory or discretionary the guidelines should be.

Federally, we see the guidelines moving away from mandatory. In over 50% of cases, judges sentence below the guidelines. Drug related mandatory guidelines are reducing this November.  Sentencing guidelines results in overcrowded prisons and the inability for alternative programs to prisons being considered.

Problem is, there are still disparities in sentencing. In the end, I will need to answer, did sentencing guidelines fix the problems of race and gender disparities. The answer is no. People of color are still receiving longer sentences for similar crimes and women receive shorter sentences than men. If it didn't fix the problem, then we need to really consider a better way to fix the problem - perhaps mandatory maximums! Now, that's a concept!!!!

Sit the Season Out

Did I somehow become an athlete? At my follow up with my doctor today, I was told, "well, you're pretty much going to have to sit the season of fall out." She's concerned because my inflammatory markers are continuing to rise. We now have two years of medical records and see the patterns. Fall is my not so good season.

I'm going to stay as active as possible, but the doc wants me to stay to 10 minute spurts of exercise. I'd signed up for a "couch to 5k" walking group for women, and she approved it, as long as I stay walking and don't push myself. If my Achilles goes tight, I'm to stop. As much as I know my docs are right, I didn't like the news.

There was some good news, though. As fall is my bad season, it appears that come early Speing, I should be able to fully jam again. My doc told me to just be ready to be active as soon as my body can handle it and my body will adjust quickly. We will keep testing my blood and as soon as my inflammatory markers are on the decrease again, Jillian Michaels and I will be best buddies again!! In the meantime, my increased fatigue and lack of time management can somewhat be explained by my body's decreased capacity right now.

I won't really be sitting the season out. I won't even be on the sidelines. I may be one of the slowest people on the field, but I'm going to be fully geared up and out and about doing my best. As long as I can get out of bed. As long as I can walk. As long as I can breath on my own. I will not sit life out. I did that for far too long with my addiction and then when I was put behind the fence. I choose to keep moving.

Can I Just Stay Quiet?

Sometimes sitting in class can get interesting for me. Today in my class, we are finally moving beyond policing and starting the conversation about courts. This, I know a lot about. I know the legal side from my J.D. and the defendant side from last year. Can I separate my personal experience from the class discussions? So far, not so well...

Tonight, as the class talked about bail, judge's discretion around setting bail, and then issues around plea-bargaining (an issue that I'm even more passionate about), I couldn't help but through my skepticism about the justice system out. At one point I said:

"It doesn't matter who you are... if you are not extremely wealthy or famous, then it matters not if you have a public defender or a private attorney... you are just going to plea out and end up on prison anyway..."

Oy, I can't believe I said that. The first thing my professor said to me was, "what reading are you basing that on? What empirical evidence?" I wanted to say, "my nine months in Carswell."

Then, interestingly, one of our readings for class was about the 'decision to prosecute,' that took place in the same county of where my crime occurred. I was not prosecuted by the state, so I was one of the cases they did not move forward, so in reading the article, I was interested in trying to figure out why my case was never prosecuted by the state... why did it go federal? I will never know, but it made me curious, especially because this article was specifically written from the same county as my case (albeit well before my case was ever presented to them).

I also continually get a run-around when I mention "federal" issues - I am always reminded - 90% of cases are handled in the states... I keep mentioning that I'm interested in the federal system. Always the minority, ha!

There's such a huge part of me that wants to tell my class my story --- they need to hear the story of someone who went through all these steps and what happened and what it was like... what 'negotiating' a plea really looks like. How I was allowed to go to South Africa still. How I was never really arrested, etc.

Just thoughts...

It's Rosh Hashanah

Somehow I failed to take the day off to go to synagogue or anything like that, but tonight there will be Apple dipped in honey! I have a staff meeting in 40 minutes, so I best get moving this morning...

Time Management

I am officially having difficulty. How did I do it all before? Not only it all, more?? Before I went away, I was doing a lot more than I am doing now... I had the same number of classes, I had the same job, I had the same chronic illness that can slow me down at times, but I maintained a fellowship, I spent more time with friends, I watched far more television, and somehow I seemed to get it all done with a decent night's sleep.

Last night, I was up until 2 a.m. finishing a short paper for a class. I absolutely know what I'm doing. I am not feeling as if I am struggling in school or with the materials (as I did when I first came back to school and needed to learn what APA citation looked like and basic going back to school issues). Now, though, I feel as if I have not figured out my time management, yet. I'm nearly a month into school, so I better get my act together. What I hate most, is that I am finding myself settling down to write here, and falling asleep before I can even get a sentence written. Now, that is a problem. So, I am going to try and write earlier in the day.

I am continuing to find that my interest in the women's pathways to crime framework is where I want to focus my research. So far, most things I read seem to say that white collar female offenders are not influenced by similar motivations as other offenders that fall under the pathways framework (earlier victimization/trauma). However, based on so many stories I heard, I think, perhaps, the wrong questions may have been asked. I think there is a similar pathway to crime for financial related crimes and I'm excited that I already know where my research may be headed (two years into my former PhD program and I was never too specific).

In fact, I think I now have two professors for my "thesis" committee, as I walked into a second professors office during her office hours this week. She at first was a little standoffish, and by the end of our conversation, she was offering me a chair in her office and saying that "if" I am in as an official PhD student, she would like to work with me as a student. Sweet! She actually did a really interesting dissertation topic (just a couple years ago) that falls close to my interests! I still need to select my thesis chair, but not yet...

I have two group projects and am trying to shuffle our meeting times. I love collaborative projects, but they often take more time to complete than working independently. I feel as if I have great groups, though. They are all new graduate students and in that scared deer in headlights mode, so they are working very hard. They do look to me for guidance, as I know the ins and outs of my University and the how to's better, but ultimately, we are all working well as teams. As a master's level vs a PhD level student, there is much more "busy" work, and a lot less theoretical work, discussion, and reading. I am not upset that the professors did not want me in their PhD courses, they did not yet admit me into the PhD program, and I am learning a lot about the building blocks of what I need to know. I just keep getting ahead of myself and trying to take things to the next level and then remembering that I am not there yet. Maybe, if I could just be where I am, I could slow down enough to get everything done...

In the end, I know that everything will be okay. In fact, I know that everything doesn't even need to work out the way I am planning on it to. There are so many ways my life may go at this point and my life is sooooo good. I don't gamble. I'm not locked up. I am mailing off a check to pay a bit of my restitution. I'm visiting my home town in a couple weeks.

So, I guess it's okay that I don't have everything all together. I have people to respond to. I have to get my room fully organized (still). I need to figure out the best studying place in my home (still). I apologize to all of you for not being the daily writer I've become, though, and I will do my best to be better, because I still have much to share and I hope you still choose to want to be a part of this exchange. It's a day at a time, and so for today, I wrote this. See, I'm already doing better with my time management!